by David Lucin
Her parents. She needed to get to them.
She braced herself and tried to push up, but Sam held her down.
“Easy there,” he said. “You passed out.”
Planting both hands on the concrete roof, she pushed up again, this time hard enough to break free of Sam’s grasp. Her knees wobbled and her vision blacked out for a moment, but she came to and faced the service door.
“What’re you doing?”
“I’m going home.”
“What?” Sam stood and reached for Jenn’s hand, but she yanked it away. “You can’t go marching toward mushroom clouds.”
Of course Sam wouldn’t understand. How could he? He’d come to college in Flagstaff to escape his family. He wanted nothing to do with them. But Jenn’s parents were everything to her. They stepped in after her birth parents threw her out like a piece of trash. Even after raising two sons, they gave Jenn everything. They loved her like she was their own. Her brothers did, too. But they were gone and her parents were all she had left. She couldn’t lose them. Not like this.
She swallowed a lump in her throat and felt her lip quiver. “Fucking watch me.”
“Jenn, wait.” Sam reached out for her again but she stormed past.
Her first step felt good, so good, like she was finally taking control after playing catch-up all morning. But each one after that became heavier and heavier. An invisible weight pushed her back. It reminded Jenn of when she was eleven and her parents drove her to the ocean. Everyone was there, even her brothers. She’d never seen the ocean before. In fact, she’d never seen it since. Determined, she marched in, each wave throwing her back like she didn’t belong. What business did she have in the Pacific? The desert was in her blood, not salt water. Up to her hips, she was too afraid to go any deeper. She nearly turned back, but a supportive hand from her father encouraged her to dive forward. She came up, her hair wet and her heart pounding, and saw her mother waving to her from the beach. Thanks to them, Jenn conquered the Pacific that day. She wished Sam would do the same and push her forward. But he grabbed her wrist instead and tugged her back. He wasn’t anything like her father, and she hated him for it right now.
“Please, let’s go back to Gary’s,” he pleaded, touching her arm.
She jerked her hand away and used it to wipe her eyes. Then, gritting her teeth, she clenched her fists and ran. If Sam wouldn’t help, she wanted to get as far away from him as possible. He was the wave pushing her back. She had to dive in.
Someone had let the service door close. With a shaky hand, she reached for the doorknob, but two arms wrapped around her and pulled her away. She screamed and cursed and threw elbows, but the door, the way home and to her family, grew smaller and disappeared as her feet lifted off the ground and she twisted around. Kicking, she cursed again. The grip around her stomach tightened.
Jenn closed her eyes. Her feet touched the ground and her knees nearly buckled. The tears flowed freely now, and she smelled Sam’s deodorant. She hated him a minute ago, but the familiar scent conjured feelings of trust and safety. No, Sam wasn’t like her father; he reminded Jenn more of her mother. At the ocean, before Jenn stepped onto the beach and submerged her feet, her mother told her to shut her eyes tight and take a deep breath before going under. She reminded Jenn of what she’d learned in swimming lessons. It might seem scary at first, she’d said, but Jenn could do anything. Sam thought the same way.
She relaxed, then spun around and buried her face in Sam’s chest. He pulled her tight and rested his chin on her head. “Don’t worry,” he said. “They’re okay. They’ll be okay.”
Jenn tried to believe him, but she needed to see for herself. “Will you come with me?” she mumbled into Sam’s T-shirt.
“Yes,” he said. “Of course I will. But you have family here, too.”
She pulled her face back, leaving a wet patch below his neckline. People were watching them now, and Jenn felt a pang of self-consciousness. She checked to see if anyone else had passed out or thrown up. No one had. Just her.
Swallowing the burn in her throat, she looked back to Sam. “What do you mean?”
“Gary and Maria.”
“What about them?”
“You can’t leave them behind.”
Jenn’s cheeks felt warm. She hadn’t considered them. Before leaving, she’d have to pack her things, so she’d see them again and say goodbye. But then she pictured the look on Maria’s face—her bright blue eyes, permanent smile, and the hose wrapped around her ears. And Gary, his lopsided mustache and the ugly polo shirts. He always tucked them in, and it looked terrible. She imagined herself at their front door, ready to leave, as they stood in the living room and stared back at her.
If not for Gary and Maria, Jenn would have stayed in Phoenix, where, even in the suburbs, she was afraid to go out alone at night. Here, in Flagstaff, the air was cool, it snowed a little in the winter, and almost all the drug addicts and criminals had moved into the city. It was quiet, yes, thanks to most of the businesses having closed during the depression, but at least it was safe and stress-free. Most of all, she’d met Sam in Flagstaff. She had Gary and Maria to thank for that. She tried to make it up to them by helping around the house, but the fact was, if not for Jenn, the Ruiz family would’ve had plenty of surplus income, maybe even enough to afford real meat a few times a week.
She owed Gary and Maria, and she couldn’t leave them now. “No,” she said. “I wouldn’t leave them. You think I would?”
“No,” Sam said. “You wouldn’t. That’s my point. You’re here—in Flagstaff. You can’t forget about them.”
“Okay. How can we help?”
Sam brushed a strand of hair from Jenn’s face. “I’m thinking about Maria,” he said. “She’s got, what, four spare oxygen tanks?”
“Four including the one we hooked up this morning.”
“Right,” Sam mused. “That’ll last her, what, a day or two?”
“If they stretch them, probably two.”
“So she’ll need more.”
Jenn patted Sam on the chest. “Okay then. So we go back to Gary’s and see if we can help him get Maria some more oxygen tanks and whatever else. Then, after that, we can see about Phoenix.”
“There you go,” Sam said, squeezing Jenn’s hand. “Good idea. And who knows? Maybe your parents will come find you here. They know where you are, so they’ll get to you if they can.”
How hadn’t she considered that yet? Even though her parents had to sell their electric car, they still had the rusty old hybrid pickup. It looked like shit, but it ran like a dream. Jenn drove it around all last summer, a testament to its resilience. The air-conditioning didn’t work, but her father said he’d jump in and drive it across the country without hesitating. It’d get them to Flagstaff if it wasn’t damaged.
“You’re right,” Jenn said.
“Exactly. We should stay here at least a day in case they come up. If we drove down now, we might pass them on the highway and never even know it.”
“Good point.”
Sam hadn’t mentioned his family yet, and that worried Jenn. He’d watched five mushroom clouds above Phoenix and his expression hardly changed. She’d never met his family, even after a year together. She knew they had a cabin in Payson, though, far outside the city, and they could have been there now, safe and sound. Sam wasn’t close with his parents or sister, but Jenn didn’t know why. He never talked about them. If she asked, he deflected. She’d prodded before, but he always grew testy and defensive. Now wasn’t the time to push him.
“Let’s go check in on Gary and Maria,” Sam said. “Maria’s probably freaking out that you’re not home.”
Jenn sniffed, but Sam’s optimism wore off on her. She imagined her mother and father tearing down I-17 in the old pickup. The drive only took a couple of hours. The traffic on the way out of town would be ugly if cars had broken down in Phoenix like they had in Flagstaff, but her father knew all the back routes. He’d find his way and he’d
find Jenn.
She just hoped they’d fixed the air-conditioning.
7
Jenn’s mouth tasted like stomach acid and soy bacon and her sinuses burned. Once down from the roof of Emerald City and outside, she spit onto the sidewalk.
“How are you feeling?” Sam asked.
She hated losing control like that and told herself she’d have to act stronger. Thinking her parents were on their way to Flagstaff made it easier. “All right. Sorry, that was a little embarrassing.”
“What? No, you shouldn’t be embarrassed. What we saw is hard for anyone, and you’re the toughest person I know. I’m not embarrassed by that.”
She wrapped her hands around his arm as they turned left onto Milton Road.
“Where is everybody?” Sam asked. “It’s like they disappeared.”
A few came down with them from the roof of Emerald City, but the scurrying crowds from earlier had evaporated. Idle cars peppered the street in both directions. Less than an hour ago and just a few blocks down, forty or more people had gathered around four police officers at the corner of University and Milton. Now the only sign of movement was the wind blowing pine needles across the pavement. All Jenn could hear was the sound of her and Sam’s footsteps. No cars, no airplanes, no loudmouths using megaphones to protest the draft. Nothing. Campus was usually the busiest place in town. The heart of Flagstaff had suddenly stopped beating.
“Home, maybe?” Jenn said. “On my way here, I saw police telling everyone to go home. They might’ve heard about the explosions and left their cars.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.” Sam stopped and his eyes lit up. “Hey, you want to take my car?”
Jenn absolutely wanted to take Sam’s car. Fortunately, he hadn’t plugged it in last night, but if it died and the power didn’t come back on soon, they’d have no way to charge it. They needed to conserve its juice in case Jenn’s parents didn’t come to Flagstaff and they needed to drive to Phoenix. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not? We’d be there in like five minutes.”
“Yes, but we need to save your charge for when we really need it. We’ll be screwed if the power doesn’t come back on.”
Sam kicked a stone. “Well, we can cross that bridge when we get there.”
“No. We should just walk.”
They turned onto Milton. A half dozen cars blocked the intersection, but Jenn couldn’t see the owners. She remembered the woman with her son from this morning and wondered if they’d found a way home.
On their left stood a charging kiosk, sunlight glistening off the solar panels atop the roof. Four of the six charging stalls had cars attached to them. “You think they were plugged in when it happened?” Jenn asked.
“I dunno. Maybe. They could’ve come after and tried to charge up.”
“Wait, shouldn’t it be working? It has solar panels.”
Sam shrugged. “Battery could’ve run out.”
Across the street, opposite the charging kiosk, plywood covered the doors and windows of an old strip mall. The one surviving sign advertised a payday loan shop called Money Now. They walked for less than a block before Jenn spotted movement farther down the street: two people darting across the road from right to left. “You see that?” Jenn asked.
“See what?”
She pointed. “Two people just ran across the street.”
Sam grunted his acknowledgment.
“Yeah,” she said. “I wonder what—”
Before she could finish, another small group, this one of four or five, ran across the road and headed in the same direction.
“There! You see that?”
“Yeah,” Sam said. “What’s the deal? They’re in a hurry.”
They continued down the block. Just ahead, on their side of the road, two more ran to the Flagstaff Realty office and banged on the door. Jenn turned to Sam, who blinked hard. “What’s that all about?” he asked.
“Let’s go find out.”
Before she could, a group of ten or more came from behind the building and joined the others at the front. Together, they all rushed the door and piled on top of one another.
Jenn swallowed and picked up her pace. “Hey!”
Sam’s hand touched hers but she kept moving forward.
“Hey! What’s wrong?” she said.
She could hear the group now: yelling, swearing, pleading, crying. It shifted as those in the rear squeezed in and moved toward the door and windows, prompting the displaced to shuffle to the sides and try to get closer.
“Let us in!” a woman yelled. “You can’t leave us out here!”
Sam caught up with Jenn. “What the hell is this?”
A woman, thin, in her mid-thirties, and wearing exercise shorts and a T-shirt, yelled, “They aren’t letting us inside!”
“Inside?” Sam echoed. “Why?”
“We were attacked!” she said as a large man wearing a red and black plaid shirt shoved her aside. She fell to her knees, so Sam rushed over and led her away from the mob. None of the others even noticed Sam and Jenn behind them.
The woman’s hair was short and messy. A dark sweat stain colored the neckline of her blue shirt. She didn’t resist Sam, but she stumbled forward and fell to a knee.
Jenn almost bombarded her with questions but decided to give her a chance to breathe. If she cut in, Sam would interject and stop her. To Jenn’s surprise, Sam spoke first. “Can you tell us why you want inside so bad?” he said, his voice even and level.
“The bombs,” she stuttered.
“We saw them,” he said. He patted her on the shoulder as he spoke. “It’s okay. Just tell us what you can.”
“Radiation,” she mumbled.
Jenn’s heart rate spiked as her mind flashed to the safety videos the Arizona government texted residents in October. At the time, she laughed at the hastily crafted CG images of victims vomiting, losing their hair, and rubbing ointment on radiation burns. But she never paid much attention to what she needed to do during a nuclear attack. Besides, Flagstaff wasn’t hit—Phoenix was, and that was over a hundred miles from here.
“Hey,” Sam continued. “We weren’t attacked, okay? We’re safe here.”
“No,” she said, wiping her cheek. “There’s fallout. We need to get inside.”
Jenn chewed the inside of her cheek, struggling to remember anything from the safety videos. She knew fallout was radiation, but that was it. She wished she’d paid more attention instead of poking fun.
“Fallout?” Jenn asked.
“Yeah,” Sam said. “She might be right.”
“Right? How do you figure?”
“Fallout. The wind can carry it this far,” he said, reaching down to help the woman to her feet.
Jenn’s stomach knotted and she struggled to breathe. Could wind carry radiation from Phoenix? She felt a breeze today, but only a light one. How fast did wind blow, anyway? Certainly not fast enough to bring radiation to Flagstaff from Phoenix in under an hour. “It doesn’t make sense,” she said. “All the way up here? Already?”
“Maybe,” Sam said, chewing on a fingernail. “Don’t you remember those videos?”
“Not really. You actually watched them?”
“I dunno. They said to find shelter and wait indoors. I guess I didn’t really think much of it since it happened so far away.”
The woman squirmed. “We can’t stay out here,” she said.
Sam’s face went stone serious, sending a shiver down Jenn’s spine. This woman was terrified and a crowd of fifteen or twenty threatened to break into a real estate office. Either the whole town, Sam included, had lost its collective mind, or Jenn was wrong. She hadn’t paid attention to those videos, after all, and Sam had. She trusted him. If he feared fallout, Jenn did, too. “Are Gary and Maria okay?” she asked.
“They’re probably inside and safe. Gary can be an asshole, but he’s a resourceful guy. He’ll be fine.”
“Okay. So how long do we have? If we run to
Gary’s, we can probably make it in twenty min—”
“We need to go!” the woman said, darting toward the crowd pounding at the Flagstaff Realty window.
“She’s right,” Sam said. “I think those videos said within ten minutes. It’s been more than thirty since we saw those clouds.”
Jenn eyed Flagstaff Realty. It wouldn’t work. Others had packed it tight already and they weren’t letting anyone else in. All the doors and windows in the strip mall had boards on them, even those at Money Now. “Fine,” Jenn said, looking for another place to go.
Before Sam could answer, a crash, like breaking glass, erupted from Flagstaff Realty.
Jenn flinched. The big front window shattered, and the wave of bodies from the crowd pushed forward. The ones inside had fallen back, but as the first few from outside made their way in, she lost track of who was who. A mass of humanity swirled and spewed out of the building as the yelling grew louder.
“Let’s go,” Jenn said.
They gave Flagstaff Realty a wide berth by stepping onto the road as they passed. Farther down, another crowd rushed inside Minute Tire. Across the street sat a boarded-up fast food restaurant. Past that, office buildings lined the far side of Milton. The fight at Flagstaff Realty had spilled onto the sidewalk, so Jenn settled on the tire place.
“In here,” she told Sam, then broke into a full run.
“Get inside!” she heard someone yell.
She fell in at the end of the line leading into the shop. With both hands, the man ahead of her pushed someone in front of him. She reached behind and grabbed Sam’s hand. Squeezing his fingers tight, she led him forward. As she did, bodies crowded around her from the sides. The warmth of panicked breathing painted her face and neck. She smelled onions, rotten eggs, and a hint of feces.
She lost her footing and nearly stumbled as the weight against her grew heavier. Shutting her eyes, she pushed forward. Sweat rolled down her cheeks and settled on her lip. She caught herself grinding her teeth.
They broke into a small waiting room with a couch and desk. It reeked of rubber. Still squeezing Sam’s hand, Jenn passed the desk and turned through another door. The room opened into a shop.
