“Yeah. Me and some others.”
“Others?” There was danger in that word. If there were others, she’d be outnumbered, and Todd wouldn’t know where to find her if she didn’t come home. But there were others, and it was as magnetic as it was repulsive. She shook her head forcefully. “I can’t do it. I can’t pick up some strange man at the dump. What if you decide to kill me?”
“I mean, I’m sorry we didn’t meet for coffee or something first, but it is what it is. I need a lift, and you need stitches.”
“But other people?”
“It’s not a bad crowd. No one will hurt you.”
The look of sincerity on his face was so foreign it made her uncomfortable. “How many others?”
“Near five hundred now, I think.”
Emily fell back out of her squat and landed hard on her butt. “Jesus.”
He drew his eyebrows close. “How long have you been on your own?”
“What? I’m not on my own.” The words rushed out of her. “I’m married, and my husband would kill me.”
“Well it’s not a date. It’s a car ride. You don’t think he’d do the same thing?”
“He’s kind of an asshole, but this time he’d be right. It isn’t safe. Five hundred people? Really?”
“I just saw that dog of yours almost take a head off. No one is going to hurt you.”
She looked up. Red was staring down into the hole expectantly. “He’s a good boy. I picked him up here at the dump a few days ago. He was eating,” Emily frowned, “things that weren’t nice.”
“Then you’ve already picked up a stranger at the dump, and that worked out okay.” He looked up at the dog, who even she had to admit was a little terrifying with flesh and gore smeared on his face.
“I guess so.” The cut on her leg throbbed and burned. “We should get out of this hole.”
Adam nodded, and careful to avoid putting weight on his left foot, he let her help him up. They spent a few minutes looking around in the garbage for his gun, but with no luck and both of them in pain, they didn’t put much effort into it.
“It’s a shame,” he said wiping his hands on his pants. “I really liked that gun.”
“I’m deeply sorry for your loss.”
Climbing up the garbage slope was slow and difficult with only two uninjured legs between them. They slipped down again once, but on the second try, after taking the path a few inches at a time, they managed to climb up to where Red was waiting on them. Red circled Adam with a leery series of snorts and sniffs, but Adam passed examination. Red seemed to think he was safe enough. Red followed them to the car, weaving behind them, keeping a lookout, and occasionally darting forward to study them both with concern.
By the time Emily got back to the car and was able to put some pressure on her cut, she was beginning to think that it might not be so bad to see a professional. After all, she was always telling Mr. Johnson not to be so stubborn about the cut on his hand, and she’d hardly be setting a good example if she let her leg fall off from some gross garbage dump infection.
She wiped her leg with a questionable towel she'd found in the back seat, then covered the passenger seat with an emergency blanket. “No offense.” She said to him as she shooed him slightly out of the way. “But you really stink.”
“I’m so gross, I disgust myself.” He climbed in on top of the emergency blanket, and she opened the back door for Red to jump in. He seemed slightly perturbed that Adam got the front but finally settled down and stretched himself out across the back seat.
She was already feeling like she’d made a mistake helping Adam, if for no other reason than the awkwardness. She tried to make conversation, even though it might have been the smarter thing to just ask for directions and let the silence alone. “Why the power plant?”
He shrugged and looked out the window. “It's far enough out of town not to get much traffic. It’s got a lot of walls with no windows. It’s got power.”
“That’s smart, I guess.”
“It wasn’t my idea. The others found me and let me in. When everything happened, a few of the power plant employees who didn’t have kids or families nearby stayed to try and keep the place on as long as they could. It was like, company policy that they had to have all these survival supplies in case of war or natural disasters and stuff.”
“So, you all just sort of sit around at the power plant?”
Adam laughed. “I wish. That’d be nice. We all have jobs. It takes all of us to keep that place functioning.”
“What is your job?”
“I'm usually a runner.”
She glanced at him with half a smile. “It doesn't seem like you're very good at it.”
He laughed. “Well not right now. But usually.”
“What do you run for?”
“Supplies mostly. Scavenge. Whatever we need. The dump is a good place to find some things if you know what you’re looking for.”
“So, you didn’t actually work at the plant?”
He lifted an eyebrow at her. “The actual plant is shut down mostly. After it happened, when it wasn't practical to keep the place running anymore, the guys that worked there shut it all down. If they hadn't, it would have been a disaster for the whole city. You never wondered why you didn't melt or go up in smoke?”
The idea that the power plant even existed had been so far removed from her mind she could barely mumble a response. “I have solar.”
He chewed on his lip. “Okay.”
She did not like the way he looked at her at all. The sooner she could be rid of him the better. She tried to remind herself of why she'd come in the first place, just to prove he was real; she never thought that there could be too much real, but he somehow managed it with every blink of incredulity.
She'd never had so much trouble talking before. Her mouth didn't want to form words, and her brain didn't want to provide her mouth with words to form. “My husband used to work for SolarStar before they closed. He installed and repaired solar panels. But they closed because of the recession, and now he manages the hardware store.”
“He manages a-,” Adam cleared his throat. “Knowing how to install solar. Yeah. I could see how that would be a useful skill to have nowadays. I was a mechanic. I used to work at a shop that built high end custom cars for rich people with too much money. Not much use for that anymore. I still work on the cars sometimes though. I still like doing it.”
“I see.” She shifted uncomfortably in the driver's seat and put the keys in the ignition. From the back seat, Red was breathing down her neck and his breath was exceptionally bad.
“How about you? What did you do before?”
She frowned. “I don't understand. Before what?
Adam stared at her with what looked like stifled curiosity, one eyebrow lifted, nose slightly scrunched, and an awkward smile. “So, you’re a housewife?”
“What? No. That’s not what I mean.”
He was giving her that annoying look again. “You've never had a job?”
She shot him an impatient look. “Of course, I have.”
“Then what did you do?”
“I-” But she couldn't remember. Whatever the answer to that question was, it was lost in the black space and out of reach. “It's none of your business. Stop asking me questions.”
He held up his hands. “I'm sorry. I was just making conversation. We don't have to talk if you don't want to.”
She frowned. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bark at you. I grow things. I think I have always liked to grow things. Maybe that was, that is my job.” She gripped the wheel tighter and tried to avoid his gaze. “Sometimes I forget. . . I think I don't remember how to talk to people anymore that answer back.”
15
Adam didn't say much after that except to give directions, and she was grateful. She didn't understand herself. She got so mad at Todd for not telling her the truth, but now that she'd found out that Adam was real, that there were a lot of very real people in th
e world, a big part of her wished she hadn't figured that out. The world looked different, even the grass and trees had shifted their shades of green with the knowledge that she wasn’t alone. She’d felt that there were people enough to talk to. Even Mr. Johnson wasn’t terrible company, but now even the thought of his naked conversation made her apprehensive. Five hundred others. It should have been a good thing, but it didn’t feel good. It felt terrifying.
Adam told her to turn on to a dirt road at the edge of town, and they headed into the low hills. She stared ahead, trying not to look at him.
It was hard enough to hear him on the few occasions where he told her where to go, let alone see him too. Fortunately, the drive wasn’t long. After about 20 minutes, they approached a wooden guard tower that looked newly built. Adam took a flashlight from his pocket and turned it on and off three times. Then he waited and turned it on and off again. It was some kind of signal, she guessed, to let the people in the tower know that they were friends. She felt the tension of fear spread throughout her arms and back, but nothing happened as they passed the tower.
A few minutes later, they were at another guard shack, and a huge chain link fence that stretched as far in either direction as the hills would let her see. Behind the fence, there were more guard towers peering over the hoops of barbed wire at the top. She could see the now useless concrete towers of the plant twisting into the sky. But none of this bothered her, it was architecture, and there was nothing scary about wood and stone; it was the people. Two perched on each tower with black rifles and scopes.
The guard in the booth was in full body armor, only his face exposed between his helmet and his collar. He had a black mustache and goatee and looked like he’d been wrapped in Kevlar as a baby. She felt her hands shaking on the wheel as she pulled slowly up to the shack and rolled down her window as Adam instructed. She stared straight ahead, afraid to move, or breathe as Adam said a few words to the guard and laughed about how stupid he'd been.
The guard waved them through, and the car crawled forward and climbed onto the pavement. But she could barely see. She felt her eyes trying to roll back in her head. She gripped the wheel tight enough for her hands to hurt but it still didn't stop them from shaking. She wanted to go home. She didn’t want to be here and. . .
She heard a woman scream. And guns, the chorus of automatic fire. Shouting, moaning, and snapping teeth.
“Emily?” Adam grabbed the wheel, but she couldn't answer. She knew he was beside her in the car, that they were safe, that nothing was wrong, but she could smell something burning. No. Not something. Everything. Everything was on fire, and she had to run. She had to find Todd, she had to. . .
“Emily!” That time Adam screamed it. She felt a hand close on her wrist, and her eyes swam to it through smoke and shrill cries. She stared at his fingers, long and thin, pink flesh, warm. “Are you ok?”
She saw Adam but couldn't move. Somehow, she formed words. “I want to go home.”
“Emily, there's nothing to be afraid of. I'm not going to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you. Do you believe me?”
She looked into his eyes and found honesty easily, mostly because it was an unfamiliar thing. She nodded.
“Breathe.” Adam looked straight into her.
And it was only then she realized that her lungs were burning, and she was holding her breath. She gasped and went in to such a hacking cough from the sudden dryness of the air on her throat that she nearly vomited. They'd come to a stop, which was lucky. She hadn't even noticed pushing down the break.
“What's wrong?” Adam tried to take hold of her hand, but she jerked it away.
“I feel like I'm dying. I heard someone scream.”
“No one is screaming. Everything is fine.” Adam's face did not reflect anything that looked like fine. He looked more afraid than she felt, but it was a fear for her and not for himself. “Let's just get you in to see the doctor, and then you can go home, if that’s what you want.”
He told her where to turn and where to park, and when she killed the engine, she felt relieved of at least one thing less to have to think about. The building in front of them looked as if it had once been an office, but the windows were covered in bars and chain link. That much was not in the design of the original architect. There was a metal sign nailed up beside the door.
“Human resources?”
“We thought it was funny.”
The door was locked, and they had to wait to be let inside. Adam explained that it was part of their policy to lock doors all the time. It helped to keep an infection from spreading because everyone inside was quarantined, just in case. A small woman with short black hair, wearing jeans and a purple t-shirt, answered the door. She smiled when she first saw them, but her face cooled quickly to professionalism when she saw them both limp inside. “Sit down. Both of you.”
They sat in black leather chairs with metal frames, and Emily realized they were in some kind of small lobby. There was still a desk built in to the floor, but there was nothing on it. “Who's this and what did you do now?” The doctor pulled Emily’s foot up onto another chair.
“Barbara, this is Emily, and she just saved my life.”
Barbara squatted down to get a better look at Emily's leg. Red scooted out of the way to give her some room. “Lost some skin doing it I see. She's going to need stitches.”
“I thought, but she got cut on this rusty rebar, and she can't remember the last time she had a tetanus shot.”
Barbara nodded. “Well, we’ve got them.” Barbara smiled at Emily. “Lucky you.”
Adam looked at the floor. “Not as lucky as me, though. I thought I was gone for sure.”
Barbara looked at him accusingly. “And what did you do?”
“Well I'm hoping you're going to tell me I sprained an ankle and didn't break anything.”
“I'll tell you whatever you want, but it might not be true. You're going to have to wait though. She's worse off than you.” She turned to look at Red as he laid down on the floor. “And is there anything wrong with you?”
Red wagged his tail and laid his head down on his paws.
“Nothing a bath won't cure, huh? At least one of you is okay. Wait here. I'll get some things ready. Put those legs up. Don't make them worse by letting them dangle. Try not to drip on the floor.”
But Adam stood up instead of doing what she ordered. “I'm feeling better, Barbara. Let me come help you.”
Barbara opened her mouth, seemingly to scold him, but closed it again after a slight nod of Adam's head, and she gestured for him to walk first down the hallway to their left. Emily could hear Adam’s unsteady footfalls drifting up the hall.
Emily didn't keep her foot up and instead bent down to pet Red. He was more comforting to her than anything in that place, no matter how much medicine they kept inside. “I'm sorry, baby. We'll be home soon. We shouldn't have come here. We shouldn't have wanted to know.” Red lifted his head to yawn and then laid it down again, content to be scratched and coddled after their busy day.
Adam and Barbara were gone for what seemed like at least ten minutes, and during that time, Emily thought of getting up, running for the car, and speeding out of that place as quickly as she could. Only the throbbing in her leg stopped her. When they came back, they both wore the kind of cheerful looks that Emily associated with people heavy with bad news.
“Come with me. We'll get you up on a bed in the light, so I can see what you need.” Barbara offered Emily a hand getting up, which Emily accepted reluctantly. Sitting still had increased the pain, but she tried very hard not to limp.
Red tried to follow her, but Barbara bent down to scratch between his shoulders. “Not you, honey. You're not clean. You stay here, and I’ll get your mommy back to you in a minute.” Red sat down again and let his tongue lop out the side of his mouth.
Red seemed to trust Barbara even easier than he’d trusted Adam. That much at least eased some of the anxiety Emily felt. Emily followed Barbara to t
he first door down the hall, which, though clearly not its original purpose, had been set up like any doctor's office should be. Barbara offered her a cloth gown to wear while she looked at the leg, but Emily told her just to cut off the jeans. “I got a new pair. They have butt butterflies. I don't really need these.”
Barbara nodded, and Adam flopped down in a chair in the corner. Barbara cut off Emily's pant leg with a pair of surgical scissors and began to clean the wound with cotton balls and peroxide. Emily bit the side of her cheek to avoid squirming at the sting. “Adam tells me you're married.”
Emily nodded.
“Me too. 27 years now. We're lucky to have made it together.”
“Sure.” Emily winced as Barbara pulled a small piece of metal from the wound with a pair of tweezers. “Anybody's lucky to make it these days. So many people get divorced. I’m pretty sure there’s some people on my block having an affair.”
Barbara shot Adam a quick look Emily couldn't comprehend but somehow still found incredibly rude. “Are you allergic to anything, Emily?”
“What?”
“You know, food, antibiotics? You're probably going to need something for this, so it won't get infected. I don’t want to give you something that might make you sick.”
“I don't-” Emily chewed on her lip hard enough that she could taste copper in her mouth. “I don't remember.”
“You ever had surgery?”
Barbara’s voice was very kind, but even the kindness made Emily feel angry. “I don't remember.”
“Well, what about injuries? A concussion, anything like that?”
“Todd said something happened to my head. I don’t remember. That was months ago, and it doesn’t matter now.” She turned dourly to look at the wall.
“How about medication? Have you been on anything?”
Emily nodded. “Birth control, and sometimes Tylenol, when Todd gives me a headache.”
“My husband gives me headaches too. Worth it though. Never Penicillin? Anything a doctor gave you besides the BC?”
Emily shook her head angrily. “Stop asking me questions.”
Homebodies Page 10