Desolation

by David Lucin

  He stepped around her. She reached out and grabbed his ankle, but he shook her off. Sam, silhouetted by the tall windows behind him, clenched his fists. What was he doing?

  He stepped forward and swung with his right hand. The security guard ducked and delivered a blow to Sam’s ribs. Sam doubled over but stayed standing. Readying another attack, he spun, but a jab to his jaw sent him to the floor. Then the man darted for the wheelbarrow.

  Jenn’s stomach dropped. She didn’t have a second cart or even a basket and had no time to take another one. They were already taking things like potatoes, flour, and cornmeal. Once everyone realized that the vegetables, canned goods, and soy meat products were gone, they’d come here. That wheelbarrow was their last chance.

  Holding his face, Sam struggled to stand. He’d taken three punches in two days: one for Jenn at Minute Tire and two for the Ruiz family at this dark Go Market. In a way, though, these last two punches were for Jenn. Sam didn’t owe Gary and Maria anything. In fact, he and Gary might have resented each other. But Jenn owed the Ruiz family everything. That was why Sam came to the Go Market and encouraged her to come inside—to support her. He was here for her, not for himself or anyone else. She couldn’t let that security guard steal their wheelbarrow, not after Sam gave himself to defend it. She needed to fight for Gary and Maria like Sam fought for her.

  Feeling her blood boil, she pulled the tire iron from the belt loop on her jeans. A short nod from Sam signaled his approval.

  She sprinted after the security guard. She imagined him at home with their food, laughing and telling the story of how he stole it and knocked down Sam.

  He turned right, toward the exit, and moved quickly. But Jenn was faster.

  As she came around the corner, it felt like the store had emptied out, like everyone had gone, leaving only her and him. The shouting quieted to a hum. Jenn heard her heart pounding and her teeth grinding.

  She needed to take him by surprise. He was too quick and agile to confront head-on. She could hit him in the knees. No, she wouldn’t have the chance to hit both. If he could stand, he’d overpower her. Maybe his ribs. She might knock the wind out of him, but he’d still be standing.

  She zeroed in on the base of his skull, a couple of inches above the neck of his shirt.

  Then she raised the tire iron.

  With a grunt, she swung it down.

  It didn’t make a sound.

  The man stumbled and lost balance. He collapsed, tipping the wheelbarrow and spilling its contents. He hit the ground and went limp.

  Sam ran past Jenn and stood up the wheelbarrow.

  She held out the tire iron.

  “Jenn!”

  The man lay motionless. She examined her weapon. Blood clung to the end. Her stomach lurched and jumped into her throat.

  She couldn’t look at it anymore. She let it go, and it hit the floor with a pang.

  “Jenn! Come on!” Sam weaved the wheelbarrow between two checkouts.

  She followed, catching a glimpse of the man on the floor. He hadn’t moved. She saw blood on the floor, too.

  But he didn’t have her supplies.

  17

  Gary turned into the driveway and put the Tesla in park. Jenn sat still in the back seat, staring out the window. She hadn’t spoken since they loaded up the supplies, strapped down the wheelbarrow, and drove away. Gary prodded, clearly sensing something had gone amiss, but Sam answered for her. What could she say? She knew what she’d done and couldn’t take it back. The last thing she wanted was to relive it with Gary.

  She jumped as her door popped open and Sam reached in to undo her seatbelt. Holding her under the arm, he pulled her out. His lip had split open and a bruise was forming below his eye.

  “Let’s get this loaded up,” Gary said from the back of the car.

  Sam rubbed Jenn’s arms, then went to help Gary. A few minutes later, he walked past her with the full wheelbarrow. She followed him forward and into the house, where Maria appeared from the hallway leading to the bedrooms and Gary’s office. “You’re back!” she exclaimed as Ajax rubbed up against Jenn’s ankles.

  “We’ve got an oxygen compressor and some batteries, hon,” Gary said. “And a few other things.”

  Maria towed her oxygen cart past the wheelbarrow and stood in front of Jenn. She touched her cheek and inspected her face, then shuffled over to Sam and did the same. “Well, you both look dapper.”

  Jenn wiped a glob of dried blood from her nose. She tried smiling for Maria but couldn’t.

  Maria peeked inside the wheelbarrow. “We can make cornbread! Gary loves it but I hardly ever make it anymore.”

  “It’s true,” Gary said, patting his belly and looking at Jenn. “But not as much as donuts, right, Jenn?”

  Trying to get a laugh out of her, she guessed. She managed a wooden grin but nothing more.

  “There’s also rice and pasta in there,” Sam said. “I even managed to sneak a few jars of sauce. That should keep you guys set for a while.”

  Maria wiped her eye. She opened her mouth to speak but swallowed hard. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You two have done so much for us.”

  “Of course,” Sam said.

  “Here.” Gary pulled out two seats at the dining room table. “Sit. Have a bit of a rest.”

  “I’ll pour you some water,” Maria offered.

  Jenn plopped herself into the chair. Sam sat down and faced her. “We did it,” he said, resting his hand on her thigh.

  “Yep.” That was all she mustered in response. Her first words since the Go Market.

  “Let’s stay here tonight,” Sam said. “We can help Gary and Maria a bit more and have a rest. We can make a plan for leaving tomorrow.”

  “Here’s your water,” Maria said, setting two glasses on the dining room table.

  “I know something better than water,” Gary announced from the fridge. He held up a can of beer. “I know you’re not twenty-one yet, Jenn, but that’s never stopped you before. Plus, it’s a special occasion, so I think I can make an exception.”

  “Sure,” she said. “Thanks.”

  “I’ll start putting this stuff away while you guys relax,” Maria said. She held the handles of the wheelbarrow like she planned to push it. Then she stopped, apparently realizing she couldn’t do that and tow her oxygen cart at the same time.

  Sam popped up and manned it instead.

  “What a gentleman,” she said, patting him between the shoulders. “Maybe you can lift those heavy bags for me, too.”

  Gary set the beers on the table, then pushed one over to Jenn and squeezed her shoulder. “Thank you,” he said, sitting in Sam’s chair.

  Sam returned and pulled out a new chair on the opposite side of the table. Before sitting down, he reached across and took a can from Gary. He cracked it, took a healthy swig, and exhaled audibly. “That’s good stuff,” he said.

  “Sorry,” Gary started. “It’s a little warm.”

  “Good beer was meant to be enjoyed at room temperature,” Sam declared with a belch, then lowered himself into his chair.

  “Cheers to that,” Gary said, cracking his and taking a sip.

  “So, Mr. Ruiz, what do you think about the Tesla? You should have tried the autodrive. I don’t think it’s as good as your Kia.”

  Gary answered but Jenn stopped listening. Maria opened the cupboard and set two boxes of pasta inside. If not for the wheelbarrow in the kitchen, Sam’s black eye, and beers before noon, the Ruiz house seemed normal. Gary laughed at something and smacked the table while Sam gulped his beer.

  But it was an illusion.

  Nothing was normal. Everything had changed. Jenn imagined her parents sitting at the table with her. Her father would serve them lunch, of course, while her mother would ask Jenn and her brothers about their days at school. Jenn would tell her all about what she learned, mostly in math class, and her mother would laugh and tell Jenn how smart she was. Her brothers would make fun of her, but in a nice, endearing way.
Her father would pretend to scold them. Then they’d eat—real meat, fresh fruit, and all that—before watching the end of the Diamondbacks game.

  But that was a lifetime ago—before the war and before the bombs.

  Now they were gone.

  All of them.

  Jenn was the last of the Jansen family.

  Deep down, she’d known since the explosions. Trying to run from the roof of Emerald City was her way of running from the truth. Then she buried that truth under hypotheticals: her parents would drive up to meet her, they lived too far away from the explosions, they were waiting for her to come home. Lies, Jenn realized, to hide reality.

  She couldn’t hide it anymore. She had to face it.

  “Sam,” she uttered, interrupting his talk with Gary.

  He set his beer down, his smile fading and his eyes expressing worry. “What’s up?”

  “We’re not leaving tomorrow.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They’re gone,” she said. “My parents. They’re dead. I know they are. You guys are all I have left. This is home now.”

  18

  Jenn slept for most of the day. Her body felt heavy and stiff. When she first made her way from the kitchen to her bedroom, she could hardly lift her feet off the floor.

  She dreamed about her parents. Her brothers, too. Once, she dreamed they had all come to the Ruiz house in Flagstaff. Gary fretted because he didn’t have enough beds for everyone, but he pulled out some sleeping bags and a cot from the shed and set them up in the living room. Jenn’s father helped Maria cook mashed potatoes, asparagus, and fresh steaks for dinner. They had donuts and coffee for dessert, then watched the Diamondbacks shut out the Rockies. Garcia pitched a complete game, and Gustafson, the rookie shortstop, hit a two-run shot to dead center.

  In the next dream, Jenn’s childhood home in Peoria was on fire, the flames stretching into the sky. She and Sam were there, standing outside on the sidewalk. He pulled at her wrist and tried to bring her inside, be she didn’t move. She couldn’t. Instead, she watched her family burn. When the house collapsed in on itself, she woke up screaming, then ran into the bathroom and threw up. Sam followed her in and stayed with her while she curled up on the floor and went back to sleep beside the toilet.

  Eventually, he brought her back to bed. This time she dreamed of that man in the Go Market—the security guard who tried stealing Gary and Maria’s food. He lay in a pool of his own blood on the polished concrete floor. Kneeling next to him, Jenn shook him by the shoulders. She shook and shook and shook but he lay still, dead. When she woke up, she reminded herself that it was a dream, that it wasn’t real. But how could she be so sure? For all she knew, he was dead. She might have killed him. Then she went to the bathroom and threw up again.

  When she finished, the sun had begun to set. Orange beams streaked into the bathroom through the tiny window above the toilet. Smelling like vomit, she dragged herself into the kitchen. Maria was there, seated at the dining room table, her battery-powered oxygen compressor humming as she shone a flashlight on an open cookbook. She looked up when she heard Jenn coming in.

  “You’re up!” she said, switching off the flashlight and closing her book.

  “Yeah,” Jenn said. She didn’t want to talk about her dreams and her trips to the bathroom. She asked about Maria instead. “How are you feeling? Does that compressor work okay?”

  “It’s great,” Maria said, pushing herself up from her seat. She made her way over, then wrapped her arms around Jenn and pulled her tight. “You’re very brave,” Maria continued. “And very strong. But we’re here if you need us.”

  Jenn sniffled and squeezed Maria tighter. “Thanks,” she said.

  The front door squeaked open. Sam and Gary stepped through, followed by Liam. Maria let Jenn go, then laid a hand on Jenn’s cheek and smiled that smile of hers. It told Jenn that everything would be okay. Maria would make sure of it.

  “You’re up,” Gary said. The words weren’t accusatory. Gary hated when Jenn slept in late, but he sounded genuinely happy to see her out of bed. “We have some good news.”

  Sam came over and planted a kiss on Jenn’s forehead. If he smelled the vomit on her, he didn’t say anything. She appreciated that right now. “You doing okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” she said. She meant it, and that surprised her. “What’s the good news?”

  “Tell them, Liam,” Gary said.

  Even in the fading light, Jenn noticed the dark bags under Liam’s eyes. He looked paler than he did last night, too, and his limp was worse. Was he at the Go Market this morning? Did he find that security guard on the floor? Did he know what Jenn did? No, Gary didn’t know, and Sam would never say anything to him. Still, a sense of anxiety flooded Jenn’s stomach, and she wanted to throw up again.

  Maria pulled out a chair at the dining room table for Liam. He shuffled over and sat, his left leg straight. “Have a seat,” she said.

  “Thanks,” Liam said, rubbing his good knee.

  “So,” Sam started. “Tell them.”

  “Right,” Liam said. “So we can charge the batteries for Maria’s compressor at the station. Our solar panels are good to go. You could take them to the hospital, but it’s a zoo over there right now, so when you need a battery charged, you let me know and I’ll take care of it. In a couple days, I’ll probably have my own solar up and running, so you can just bring them over to my place and Erin will charge them up for you.”

  “That’s wonderful!” Maria said.

  Gary pulled up a chair beside Liam. “Since we won’t run out,” he said, “I figure we’d keep three or four batteries and bring the rest to the hospital. They’ll need them there.”

  “Good idea,” Maria said. Ajax meowed at her feet, and she reached down to pick him up. “We just need to find some more food for Ajax. He’s on his last bag.”

  “We can find him some,” Liam said. “We saved one of the Go Markets. The one by NAU got picked clean. What a nightmare.”

  Jenn gulped and looked up at Sam. He hadn’t flinched, though, which settled her stomach. Liam must not have known they were there. So far, it seemed, Gary and Maria were keeping their involvement in the looting a secret.

  “Anyway,” Liam continued, shaking his head. “We’re going to start rationing food as soon as we can. There’s not much left to go around, but we’re not eating cat food just yet.”

  Gary spoke next. “We’ll probably run out of water tomorrow or the next day, so we should fill up the tub and store away as much as we can.”

  “Good idea,” Liam said. “We’ll be handing out water rations in the morning, but stocking up at home is a good idea. We should be able to hook up solar at the treatment plant and get a few of the pumps back online, but it might take a week or so.”

  “Either way,” Gary said, “things are looking okay for now.”

  Wincing, Liam stood. “Which means I can spend the night with my family and finally get some sleep.”

  “God knows you’ve earned it,” Gary said, then stood and led Liam to the door. A chorus of goodbyes sounded as Liam left and Gary shut the door behind him. Jenn sat in Liam’s old seat at the table. Sam stood behind her chair, rubbing her shoulders.

  “Well,” Gary said from the door, “how about another round of beers? I’ve got a few left.”

  “Sounds great, Mr. Ruiz,” Sam said. “Thanks.”

  “I’ll have one,” Maria said, and everyone looked to her. She froze, Ajax draped over her shoulder. “What? I like them, too, you know. I just wait until after five o’clock.”

  Sam laughed at that. So did Gary. Ajax yowled and purred as Maria scratched his neck.

  Jenn felt herself smiling.

  She’d made it home, after all.

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  About the Author

  David Lucin was born and raised in British Columbia, Canada. He has a Master of Arts degree in military history and has been studying armies, strategy, tactics, and the effects of war on society for over ten years. He still lives in BC with his wife and family.

  Visit www.authordavidlucin.com to see more of David’s work and read more about the world of Desolation. You can contact him via email at david@authordavidlucin.com.