by Lucin, David
Sam’s dorm faced the setting sun, which bathed the space in a deep orange. The wall-mounted TV in the central common area was gone. So was the SmartHome terminal. One of the two couches had disappeared.
Gary let out a low whistle. Sam muttered something under his breath and darted for his room. Jenn exchanged a worried glance with Gary, who flicked off his flashlight.
Standing over his dresser, Sam pulled open a drawer. “All my stuff’s gone. Tablet, computer, everything.”
Jenn sat on Sam’s bed. The sheets were unkempt, but Sam rarely made them if she wasn’t spending the night. “Someone break in, you think?”
“Maybe,” Sam said. He slammed the drawer shut. “Could have been Dougie.”
“Dougie?” Gary asked from the doorway.
“One of my friends. Well, I thought he was. He obviously took off without telling me.”
Jenn crossed her legs. “I don’t really blame him. He’s from California, right?”
“Yeah, Fresno.”
“Probably found a ride home. Shouldn’t be hard to find someone else going to California. Like half of this school is from out there.”
“I guess.” Sam leaned on his dresser.
Jenn popped up and made for Sam’s closet. Inside hung a dozen or more button-ups and as many plain T-shirts. On the floor lay his duffel bag. She tossed it onto the bed, then pulled a handful of shirts from the rack. “Will all of this fit? Or do you have a second bag somewhere.”
Sam didn’t respond. He chewed his nail, his gaze fixed on the carpet.
“Sam!”
He lifted his head.
Jenn knew that look; something was on Sam’s mind. “You okay?” She laid the shirts on the bed.
“I’ve been thinking. I . . .” He trailed off and his eyes wandered to Gary.
Gary leaned on the door jam. “It’s all right.”
Jenn sat beside Sam’s bag. “What’s wrong?”
“I want to go to Payson.” He almost sounded embarrassed, as if he’d admitted to drinking Gary’s last beer. “My mom and sister are there with my stepdad. I want to get them and bring them here. Home’s gone. This is the closest thing for me now—and the safest.”
A pang of guilt speared Jenn’s ribs. Helping Gary and Maria had consumed her for nearly two days, and she hadn’t asked Sam about his mother, Barbara, or his sister, Nicole. Then again, he hadn’t brought them up, but that didn’t surprise her. He rarely did. To him, Nicole was the family’s “golden child.” Other than that, Jenn knew that she was eighteen and had recently finished her first year of pre-med at Berkeley. Had he been thinking about them this whole time?
Gary stood up straight. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Not right now. You saw firsthand what happened at the Go Market, and I know you two aren’t telling me everything. I heard the gunshots.”
Jenn’s stomach flipped. Did he know about the security guard? How could he? Had Sam told him? Maybe that man went to the cops and they found the tire iron and—
“We saw the lights,” Sam said, his jaw tight. “The police lights. On the way here. That means they have things under control, right? You said so yourself yesterday.”
Gary crossed his arms and fixed his gaze on Sam. “After everything that happened today, I’m not so sure. Police funding has gone way down in the past few years, even as the population shrinks. We’re lucky to still have our own police department at all anymore.”
“Then what?” Sam said, speaking louder now. His cheeks and nose reddened. “I can’t leave them there. The house in Phoenix is probably at the bottom of a crater. The cabin’s got a pantry with food and there’s a creek nearby in case the water runs out, but Kevin isn’t like you. The guy can’t even change a tire. My mom’s no help at all. My sister’s smart, but she’s young and hasn’t been on her own very long. They can’t survive out there. They need to be here with us.”
Part of Jenn agreed with Gary. The idea of leaving Flagstaff sounded insane, but this was Sam’s family. He wasn’t close with them, but that shouldn’t matter. The war had taken two brothers from Jenn. Now it had taken her parents. If it were her mother and father in Payson, she wouldn’t hesitate to jump into Sam’s car and drive there, even after everything she’d seen and done at the Go Market. If Sam had family out there, estranged or not, he needed to find them and bring them here, the dangers of the trip be damned.
“What do you think, Jenn?” Gary asked.
Sam was watching her, his eyes pleading for her support. Gary was studying her, too, his arms crossed and his feet shoulder-width apart.
“I think we should go,” she said.
A sigh of relief escaped Sam. Gary ran his palm over his scalp. “We?” he echoed.
The word had slipped out, but of course she would go with Sam. After everything he’d done for her and the Ruiz family, it was time she supported him for once, not the other way around. “Yes, we. I’m going with him.”
“Absolutely not.” Gary lifted a hand as if he planned to say more, then stopped himself and bit a knuckle. “Sam, your folks, they have a car there, right?”
“Yeah. An SUV. Why?”
“You think they would try to find you up here?”
Jenn cut in. “How do you know they even heard about the bombs?”
“What do you mean?” Gary asked.
She reached for one of Sam’s shirts, a red and white plaid one, and folded it in her lap. “We only found out about the attack because we saw the mushroom clouds. How do we know they could see them from Payson?”
Gary leaned on Sam’s dresser as he seemed to consider the question. “It’s closer,” he said, not sounding so sure of his answer.
Jenn tucked the shirt into Sam’s bag and pulled another off a hanger. “Let’s say for argument’s sake they didn’t see it. Why would they leave? For all they know, it might just be a blackout. There’s no fallout. We didn’t hear a boom or anything. They’re not getting Google News alerts on their phones. If they knew something happened to Phoenix, you’d think they’d come up here, right? Up to Sam? If they think it’s a blackout, they could even try driving toward Phoenix. We have to find them—soon.”
“That’s right,” Sam said. “They might not know what happened. I need to bring them here before the water runs out or they eat all their food or try heading home.”
Gary pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. Jenn folded another shirt and laid it into Sam’s bag. It didn’t matter if Gary agreed with the plan or not—she was going with Sam. There was nothing he could do to stop her.
“Fine,” Gary said finally. “But I’m coming with you.”
“No,” Jenn and Sam said at the same time. Jenn twisted around and spoke again. “No way. Maria needs you at home.”
“If we go tomorrow morning,” Gary proposed, “we can be home by dinner. A couple hours there, a couple back. She’ll be okay without me for a while.”
“That’s best-case, Gary. What if it takes us longer? What if something happened? You can’t leave her here alone.”
“No, but—”
She waved a hand at him. “The answer’s no. This is on us. We can take care of it.”
Gary was quiet for a moment before he pointed a finger at Jenn. “Fine, but you’re telling Maria that you’re leaving.”
* * *
“Are you sure?” Maria asked.
The Ruiz house was dark, and candlelight made the walls glow yellow. Seated on the couch, Maria groaned and reached for a mug of hot water on the coffee table. Beside her, Sam leaped into action and grabbed it for her.
“We have to,” Jenn said. “It’s Sam’s family. We can’t leave them in Payson.”
Then she explained everything to Maria: how Sam’s family might not know about the attack, how Payson was only a two-hour drive from Flagstaff, and how Kevin and Barbara might try and go to Phoenix if their supplies at the cabin ran low. When she finished, Ajax jumped onto the couch, and Maria pushed him away. Gary stood in front of the TV
and crossed his arms. So far, he hadn’t said a word.
“Isn’t there any other way?” Maria asked. “Could you ask Liam for help? Maybe he can get in touch with the sheriff there and find out what’s going on.”
Jenn looked to Gary, who offered an almost imperceptible shrug. “I don’t think so,” she said. “He has enough on his plate right now.”
“I thought about that,” Sam said. “The sheriff’s department out there isn’t like the police here. I highly doubt they have backup solar or anything.”
Jenn took the seat next to Maria. “It’s okay. Sam knows the area. We’ll be careful.”
A forced smile cracked Maria’s lips. “Always thinking about others, trying to do the right thing, even if you could get hurt.” She laid a cold hand on Jenn’s cheek. “Sam’s family needs you. Go to them.”
Though Jenn’s insides relaxed, she couldn’t help but feel she had somehow betrayed Maria. Gary, too, in a way. They needed her, and she was leaving them. “We will,” she managed to say.
Maria set her mug on the coffee table and made to stand. Sam held out an arm, and she used it to push herself up. “It’s getting late,” she said, oxygen cart in hand. “I think I’m going to go to bed. You two should, too. Tomorrow’s a big day.” With that, she left the living room. Ajax trotted along behind her.
Gary cleared his throat and fetched Maria’s mug. “She has a point. Better get some rest. Make sure you blow out all the candles.” He followed his wife to their bedroom.
Jenn settled deeper into the couch. Sam’s hand found her lap, and she interlaced her fingers with his. “We’re doing the right thing,” she said, both to Sam and herself.
“She’ll be okay. Maria. She’s tougher than you think.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder. “I know.”
The sound of Gary closing his bedroom door echoed off the halls in the quiet house. Jenn watched the light from the candle on the coffee table dance and flicker. Sam’s chest rose and fell, and she could hear his heartbeat.
Her eyelids felt heavy, but her mind raced and kept her awake. There would have been a Diamondbacks game tonight—a 7:05 start against San Jose. If not for the bombs, she probably would have been in McKay Village, watching it in Sam’s dorm with him and maybe Dougie. Sam would buy the beers, of course, and Jenn would try to keep up with the boys. In the end, as always, she would wind up the drunkest of the group. Wednesday would have been the last day of exams at NAU. Jenn had finished early, but Sam still had one more. What would all the other out-of-town students do now? Some had left, like Dougie, but most of the school’s population comprised people from all over the country. How many had lost family in the attack?
Did the bombs mean the war was over? Would the Chinese land troops in California or Oregon or Washington? Maybe even Alaska or British Columbia. She doubted it. American retaliation would be both swift and brutal. The EMP might have knocked out the power grid, but Sophie said military equipment was protected against its effects. Plus, the Navy had nuclear submarines all over the world. She shuddered at the thought.
Hopefully Gary was right and aid would come, but Phoenix was burning. What about Los Angeles, San Francisco, Seattle, New York, Washington, or Boston? The list went on. Were they on fire, too? The government wouldn’t help a place as small and inconsequential as Flagstaff if the entire country had erupted into flames.
No, Sam was right, not Gary: Flagstaff was on its own, and less than two full days after the bombs, life had devolved into a fight for survival. According to Gary, the water would run out soon. There were creeks nearby, but the summers were hot, even this far north and at this elevation, so many were seasonal. They might be sufficient, but what about food? Though Jenn had managed to stock up the Ruiz family for now, those supplies would last a month, maybe two. Then what? She doubted there was enough food in town to feed a population of thirty-five thousand indefinitely. Could people in Flagstaff grow some? They might have to.
This was her future. Sam’s future. Gary and Maria’s future. She hoped that future included Sam’s mother, sister, and stepfather, too. In a way, the thought of finding them and bringing them to Flagstaff helped ease the pain of losing her own parents. She couldn’t save her mother and father, but she could save Sam’s family and give them a new home here. That was something, at least.
Sam’s nose whistled, and he smacked his lips. He’d fallen asleep. Of course he had.
Jenn pulled her head off his shoulder. “Sam.” She poked him in the chest. As he blew out the candle, his eyes eased open. “Come on. Let’s go to bed. I want to leave first thing tomorrow.”
14
The following morning, Jenn, still groggy from sleep, pulled on her ash-colored jeans, then her black Arizona Diamondbacks T-shirt. Next, she tossed Gary’s flashlight into her backpack. From her dresser, she took out a clean tank top, a pair of underwear, and two pairs of socks.
“We’re only going to be gone for the day,” Sam said. “That’s it.”
“I want to be prepared, just in case.”
He wrapped his arm around her waist. She smelled the sweet spice of his deodorant, and it reminded her that she hadn’t showered in three days.
“Thanks for coming with me,” he said. “You really didn’t have to.”
“Yes I did.”
An eyebrow raised, he looked down at her.
“That’s not what I meant,” Jenn clarified. “We’re a team.”
Sam touched a finger to his chin. “A team,” he said, chewing on the word. “I like that.” He let go of her waist and patted her butt. “I’ll pack the car. Meet you outside in ten?”
“Sure.” Jenn zipped up her bag and ran her tongue along the fuzz on her teeth. “I just need to get my toothbrush.”
Before she could leave, the door squeaked open, and Gary poked his head inside. “Sorry to interrupt, but can I talk to you for a minute, Jenn? In the office.”
She gnawed her bottom lip. Had Gary ever asked her to speak in private before? Maybe he’d decided to convince her to call off the plan. Or maybe he’d decided to come with them. Either way, Jenn would push back. “Sure. Be right there.”
She sat in Gary’s swivel chair. On the desk stood stacks of books from his shelf. Jenn ran her fingers along the spines of a few: mostly World War Two, but also a history of the Cold War between the old Soviet Union and the United States. One, a musty hardcover, lay open. Several passages were underlined or highlighted in yellow. Gary had scrawled some notes in the margins. Beside the book was a piece of paper with his handwriting. Something about Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Gary closed the door behind him, then made for the desk and opened the top drawer. His Glock lay inside. “I want you to take this,” he said and handed it to Jenn.
She eyed it closely. A few months after she first moved to Flagstaff two Septembers ago, there was a home invasion in town. It turned out to be little more than a nonviolent domestic incident—a man breaking into his ex-wife’s apartment to see his young daughter—but it triggered Gary’s fatherly instincts. He insisted that Jenn learn how to shoot in case something like that break-in happened at the Ruiz house. Before then, Jenn had never touched a gun, let alone fired one, but Gary was persistent and refused to take no for an answer.
So Jenn found herself outside of town at a makeshift range, Flagstaff’s crisp winter air biting the exposed skin on her hands and face. Gary showed her the basics first: how to clear the chamber, how to load the magazine, and how to hold her finger away from the trigger. Then she shot at tin cans and missed wildly. Gary was patient, though, and a good coach. After a few more outings, Jenn gained confidence in handling the weapon and started hitting targets. Still, for her, shooting was sport; it was fun—something to do with Gary and something to practice in the absence of softball. She never imagined having to use it to defend herself.
“I can’t take that,” she said. “You need it here.”
He thrust it toward her. “No, I have my .38 and my shotgun, so w
e’re okay. Things aren’t like before.” The way Gary lingered on the word “before” gave it an ominous weight. “I’m not happy about you leaving, but I understand why you have to. You just have to be safe.”
Jenn took the weapon. It felt lighter than she remembered.
“I trust you with it,” Gary continued. He pulled his concealed carry holster out of the drawer, then held up an index finger at Jenn. “Don’t forget, it’s important to keep it on you. It’s no help if it’s not there when you need it. Always keep a round in the chamber. If you’re faced with a dangerous situation, you might not have time to load it. One less step can make all the difference.” He laid the holster on top of the desk. “Here, let’s go through the basics again.”
When he reached out for the gun, Jenn, remembering Gary’s lessons, ejected the magazine, then gripped the slide, pulled it back, and locked it in place to expose an empty chamber. “I got this, Gary,” she said. “I’m good.”
He grunted. “Looks that way.”
Jenn closed the slide and inserted the magazine with a click. When she went to stand, Gary stopped her. “Don’t tell Maria,” he said. “She’s worried sick about you and Sam leaving. She doesn’t need to know that you’re taking one of my guns, so keep it in your bag until you get in the car. Then strap it on.”
“Okay. Will do.”
“Can Sam shoot?” Gary asked. “He never came with us to the range.”
“I doubt it.”
Gary pinched the end of his mustache. “When you guys get home, we should show him. Think he’d be all right with that?”
“Sure,” Jenn lied. Sam hated guns, probably because he didn’t understand them. Where he grew up in Arcadia, a neighborhood in east Phoenix, nobody had a gun and nobody needed one. Arcadia avoided the modular housing boom and the influx of drugs, crime, and desperation it brought. Sam’s neighbors, and maybe even Sam’s family, lived in their little bubble and hired delivery drones rather than venture into the urban wilderness beyond. Sam had left that cloistered world, most likely for good, but a bit of the Arcadian naivete came with him.
