by S A Ison
“You know people are going to want that jeep, bro.” Julian pointed out.
“That’s why I’m going with him. To watch his back, I also want to see my sister.” Lydia put in, her eyes narrowing at Phoenix.
“I hate to point out the obvious and forgive me for my bluntness, but they may not be alive, unless they live out and away from Seattle, or on a farm.” Jael argued, the room quieting.
“They live in the center of Seattle.” Phoenix answered softly and Miles read the sorrow, deep within the man’s dark gray eyes. Miles well understood that need to know, he, himself didn’t know if his own father was alive or dead. Miles thought that perhaps living in New York City, it was probably better if his father had passed away, long before this.
“My sister lives there as well.” Lydia said in a small voice, tears causing her eyes to sheen in the reflective light.
“You can have the jeep, and good luck to you. I’ll not say I’m happy that you’re leaving us, but I’ll teach you to hunt small game. I’ll teach you how to skin your catch, so you can cook it. Just in case you lose the jeep, because there are a whole lot of people out there, that are going to want that operating vehicle.” Miles said. He thought it was a very bad idea and he thought Lydia going was bad as well. It was a few months until winter would begin its release, maybe Phoenix would change his mind.
Ω
Seattle, WA
Monica fingered the crumpled paper in her hand. It was written in Chinese, Spanish and English. Her stomach growled, and her mouth watered. Mike Alastair was frying a rabbit he had caught in a snare. It was a change from fish. She had gathered what edible plants she could. Mike had been her mentor when she had interned at the University of Washington Medical Center. When life had ended, Mike taken her to his home, it had been a very long walk to Kennydale, but it was worth it, it was a sanctuary.
Even now, she couldn’t believe she just walked out of the hospital. When she had, she’d seen thousands more, lined up outside the hospital. Mike had been right. As she had left the hospital, she had spotted several people who she knew were drug seekers. They had a few friends with them, grins on their faces. It had sent a shiver of fear down her back.
Mike’s home was nestled by a large body of water, Lake Washington. When they had walked to Mike’s home, they had passed near her apartment building, it had been on fire. People were running around and smashing windows. Mike had kept a firm hand on her arm and had maneuvered her up one street and down another. It had taken them over eight hours to get to his house.
The whole of Seattle had been in flames by the end of the first week and people were rioting in the streets. They had lost their minds. They had come across dead people littering the roads. She was grateful to have a safe place to live. All around them, Seattle was dying, like a rotting limb. The fug of putrescent covered the city, cloying and invading every crack and crevasse.
To date, Mike had killed ten people, he and his neighbors kept a vigilant watch. Strangers were shot on sight. Mike had showed Monica how to use his .38 revolver. They took turns keeping watch. Sleeping in shifts. Both were hoping that Seattle would kill itself out, the violent element killing each other.
“Mike, look at this. There are thousands of them all over the ground.”
“What’s it say?” Mike said, looking over his shoulder as he stood at the grill.
“American people, your country has betrayed you. Your country has built a weapon of mass destruction. Your government has lied to the world. We now have this weapon and have used it. We are coming. We will help to rebuild your country. We will help the American people, despite your governments attempts to destroy us. We will be kinder to you. We will change your lives.”
Ω
Calkins, MT
The house was quiet, but not silent. It moaned and groaned, creaked and squeaked, as old houses do. The wind outside was rocking the windows. It was an old fashion winter storm. Everyone but Jael and Miles had gone to bed. It had been an unsettling evening. The radio sat innocuously on the table, after divulging its disturbing news.
“Is there any way you can change his mind, Miles? I know he respects your opinion.”
“I can try Jael, but I do understand his motivations. Maybe by the time he leaves out of here, most of the bad people will be dead from starvation. It’s been a month now. I’m pretty sure between the brutal cold and lack of food, many have died.”
“More like many innocent and good people have died. Bad people tend to rise to the top, like turds, floating in a pool.” Jael snorted. That was life, assholes always got away with things. While good and decent people struggled.
“If he stays away from large towns and cities, he might be okay. He’d have to travel during the day, because anyone could see the jeep from a mile away, with the headlights on. Day travel is dangerous too, because, the jeep could be clearly seen, but at least Phoenix could see someone coming at him. Or hopefully.”
“Those are a lot of big ifs. You can’t really think you’re responsible for all of this?” Jael changed the subject.
“I helped Jael.”
“Miles, you said you took vital information. I think, no matter if you blew the whole place up, they would have started again, and they would have done it.”
“I know, I know. I guess I was so naive, I didn’t think our country capable of something so horrendous.” At Jael’s derisive snort, Miles grinned.
“You’re an old fool if you think that, but I love you anyway.” Jael grinned, and her smile grew when Miles’s eyes grew large and his mouth fell open. She leaned in and kissed him on his open mouth. He promptly shut it and kissed her back.
“I love you too, you know. I think I have, since the day I met you.” Miles said softly, and she felt his hand smoothing her hair back.
“Same here, you were so shy back then. It took a hell of a lot of coaxing on my part, just to get you to stay and chat.” She giggled, seeing the blush rise on his face. Her hands brushed his cheeks and felt the stubble of beard beneath. Miles pulled her into his arms and they sat on the couch, listening to the sound of the storm that raged around them.
“I’ll be honest, it has been well over twenty years, since, uhm, well, since…” Miles voice faded off in embracement. Jael looked up and grinned, her fair brows waggling.
“Come on up to my room and I’ll remind you how.”
Ω
Julian helped Jennifer down from the horse, though he knew she didn’t need help. He looked over and saw Yuma walking from the barn. Yuma had become obsessed with his chosen weapon, the 1911. The man wore an old-style holster that he’d excavated out of the barn. It rode low on his narrow hips.
“He’s looking more and more like a cowboy, every time I come over.” Jennifer grinned, holding onto Julian’s gloved hand.
“Yeah, he’s also getting really damn good at drawing that .45 and he’s also been practicing his targets as well, when he draws. I’d say he’s about eighty percent accurate on a quick draw now.” Julian grinned, squeezing Jennifer’s hand. The couple was spending a lot of time together these days. With the new year passing, there wasn’t much to do on either of the farms, chores done before dawn. With so many willing hands, Julian found himself either going to Jennifer’s farm, or she came over for nearly daily visits.
“Phoenix and Lydia are going to leave here in a couple months. Miles has taken them both out today, to set snares. He said he couldn’t and wouldn’t give them his jeep unless he knew they were ready to live off the land, should their jeep be taken from them.” Julian said, his eyes still on Yuma, who was drawing the weapon in rapid repetitive motions. He shook his head; the man really was getting good at that.
“Do you think you’ll be going with them?” Jennifer asked, drawing his attention back to her. He looked down and grinned.
“Heck no. You’re not getting rid of me that easy.” His blue eyes crinkled in good humor.
“That’s cause I’m about the only woman in a fifty-mile radius.
” Jennifer laughed up into his face.
“Well, you’re probably right, because Phoenix has been looking awfully good lately, guess it’s a good thing he’s leaving.” Julian sniggered and then doubled over when Jennifer punched him in the gut. That made Julian laugh even harder.
“Yeah, even your horse is really starting to look attractive. I was flirting with the cow when I milked her this morning, you know, so many teats. She was utterly delightful.” He howled, backing up, tears streaming from his eyes. Jennifer’s fists were coming fast and furious and Julian tripped and fell to the ground, a fit of laughter overtaking him. Jennifer fell on top of him and he clutched her to him and kissed her. Laughter vibrated through their lips.
Jennifer raised her head, looking down into his face. She had the prettiest brown eyes. They reminded him of Koa wood, and her cheeks were pink and soft. She had just the slightest gap in her front teeth, that flawed her perfect beauty. He liked that, if she were too perfect, he’d feel he wasn’t worthy. But the tiny imperfection of a gap, made his heart swell, among other things. He could feel the pressure of her hips and thought they’d best stand up, before he embarrassed himself.
In this new apocalyptic time, there was no room for casual relationships. Especially in the remote wilds of Montana. Whatever bonds he made now, would last a lifetime, or until he or the other person were killed or died of mishap or disease. All of their lives had a shorter expiration date. Yuma had nearly gone expired. Taya had, in a most brutal way. Julian was very conscious of his feelings for Jennifer. He knew his friends were taking bets on his relationship. They’d all done it with Miles and Jael.
Miles and Jael now shared her room. Phoenix had moved into Miles’ room, giving Yuma his own. The cats also seemed to like Yuma and his room. The cats stayed close to Yuma, though the dogs now left the cats alone. After getting their asses handed to them, Thor and Albert kept a respectable distance from Pip and Pop. Thor had gone so far as to cry when Pip and Pop slept on his quilt. The large dog laid a foot away from his bed and cried softly, the cats ignoring him. Albert slept with Miles and Jael, at the foot of their bed.
He grunted and squeezed her rump, then rolled over and got up. He pulled her up with a hand.
“Go for a ride?” He suggested, trying to slow the mad race of his blood. He just hoped he wouldn’t injure himself when he got in the saddle.
Ω
Fargo, GA
Alice and Kena were walking down the dusty dirt road. It was a warm day for mid-January, near seventy. They were coming from the home of Clementine Nantes; it was her birthday. Alice had been amazed, at one hundred seven, the woman looked to be in her seventies. Her deep ebony skin was flawless. The woman had outlived her children, many of her numerous grandchildren and Clementine resided with her great granddaughter, Phyliss, who was fifty-eight.
“Thank you again for introducing me. It’s so nice to have friends. Clementine and Phyliss were wonderful. I just can’t get over that the woman looks so very young.”
“Country living and good old fashion clean living, well, you just can’t beat that. Genetics help too.” Kena laughed. Alice looked around for Fiasco, but the puppy had disappeared into the surrounding forest. She wasn’t worried, the puppy always found its way home, especially for dinner.
“I’ll be honest, I’d not cooked much on my own. Mostly things premade, or boxed. Thank you again for all the wonderful recipes. I’m sure Blake appreciates it as much as I do.”
“You’re not the only one, my daughters-in-law didn’t home cook much. Still don’t I imagine. Guess people got away from it over the years.”
“Well, well, ain’t this just quaint. That there is a nice gun you got grandma.” A young man stepped out from the trees, grinning widely, several molars missing in the back. Alice’s nose twitched; she could smell the decay from ten feet away. The young man’s complexion was pallid but for the inflamed zits that coated his lower jaw.
“Thanks, it was my son’s. Nice looking machete you got there; careful you don’t cut yourself; the lockjaw alone will kill you. Especially since there ain’t any hospitals.” Kena grinned big.
“You’re just a regular smartass, ain’t you, old woman.” The man spat, his eyes narrowing to slits. Alice was stunned by the ease with which Kena handled this thug. She was terrified and felt the tremors that ran through her body.
“Son, I was born a smartass, I don’t think I’ll change for no one, not even for an ofay motherfucker like you.” Kena laughed. “Now, get going, before you piss me off.”
The man’s face turned bright red and his blue eyes bulged out. He snarled, then lifted his machete and lunged forward.
Ω
Blake sat in his accustom Adirondack chair, fishing pole in hand. Travis had a stick with a long string, that hung in the water. Alice was out with Kena, the women had gone visiting. Travis didn’t speak much, but over the course of a couple weeks, he’d stopped waking in the night from nightmares. The boy no longer stank of fear and starvation, he had filled out and was now humming to himself.
“Daddy, I gotta poop.” Travis stood, dropping his stick on the deck. Reaching around Travis grabbed his butt. Blake was startled, the boy had never addressed him as daddy and Blake felt the lightning bolt shoot through his heart. He got up quickly and picked Travis up, running to the house. They had been trying to get him to use the toilet, instead of messing his pants. It had been hit and miss.
Making it to the cabin, he ran inside, while jerking Travis’s pants from him. He sat the boy on the toilet and let out a sigh as he heard the sound of Travis’s efforts. The boy’s face turned red as he pushed and Blake grinned.
“Don’t blow your guts out Travis. You don’t want hemorrhoids, trust me.”
“Heroid?” Travis asked, his large gray eyes curious.
“Er…yeah. You did great Travis; glad you didn’t poop in your pants.” Blake said, cleaning the boy up and took him to the kitchen to wash his hands. Blake pumped the arm on the pitcher pump and water gushed forward. Taking a bar of soap, he lathered his hands, along with the boy’s hands.
“I hungy.” Travis lamented.
Looking down at the child, then around the kitchen, Blake thought. He’d never had the care of James; Alice always took care of his needs. Now, he had the care of Travis. He went to the pantry and pulled out a jar of peanut butter and then a plastic container with crackers. The humidity was murder on anything crispy. He sat Travis at the table and put a plate down and began to spread peanut butter on crackers.
“You know, when I was a boy like you, way long time ago, I lived in a little house like this too. We were dirt poor.”
“Poor?” Travis said, cracker crumbs stuck to his mouth by globs of peanut butter.
“Yeah, poor. My granny always made us wash our hands and our faces. You know why?” Blake asked, grinning and leaning over with a paper napkin and wiped the child’s face, as Travis shook his head no, his small face serious. It had lost that pinched look and was filling out into the soft rounded lines of a toddler.
“She said there was no shame to be poor. Lots of folks are. But you don’t have to be nasty. My mom made sure we were clean.” Blake grinned. He remembered that his grandmother had encouraged him to do well in school.
“Good grades and education are the only way out of poverty.” She’d told him. It was something he always remembered and held dear.
“I clean?” Travis said and held up crumby hands and Blake laughed. He turned and picked up the dish cloth and began cleaning the boy’s digits, causing Travis to giggle.
On the kitchen counter was a bowl full of dried beans that had been set to soak overnight. Alice hadn’t been much of a cook during their marriage. When he’d been home, they’d gone for pizza or burgers. Or, boxed and prepackaged food. When they’d first arrived at the cabin, their meals had been vastly unimpressive. But, with Kena’s help, Alice was picking up on some tasty and simple recipes. Tonight, they were having red beans and rice, along with whatever
fish he caught. There were containers of dehydrated vegetables in the storage sheds, but adding the kudzu had help freshened their diet. Kena was also introducing some of the local edible plants.
The night before, Alice had served them chickweed, plantain and dandelion salad with fried squirrel. Alice was also getting the hang of grinding down kudzu root, to make a flour. In their small solar refrigerator were chives and wild onions that she had picked. Alice now carried an oak staff. Kena had gifted her with it, and Alice used it to move the grasses, so she wouldn’t get snake bit. On top of the refrigerator was a bowl of pecans which they had found on the property. Perhaps the reason for so many squirrels.
Blake poured two cups of water from the filtration system and both were quiet as he and Travis continued to eat their snack. Both jerked when they heard the report of a gun, somewhere close. Fear washed over Travis, like a wave and he cured up on the chair, his eyes large.
“It’s okay Travis, I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Blake said, bringing his weapon from the holster and checking it. He then went into the bedroom and got the AR and walked back out into the living room.
“You want to come with me? Or you want to stay here?”
“With you daddy.” Causing Blake to smile. He walked over and turned his back, feeling the boy climb up and wrap his tiny legs about Blake’s hips.
“Keep your head down and keep quiet. That way I can hear.”
“K, daddy.”
Blake walked out of the cabin, walking quietly and carefully. He was always mindful of poisonous snakes and had been teaching Travis to watch and avoid. Fiasco had gone with Alice and Kena. Travis was starting to get used to the puppy’s endless energy. At first, the child had been afraid of the puppy. He could feel the weight and heat of the child on his back. He felt the boy jerk at another gunshot, this time, closer at hand. Blake’s finger laid along the trigger guard, his eyes scanning the trees and bushes around him. He heard voices and recognized Alice’s voice and quickened his pace.
“Mamma.” Travis breathed softly. Blake grunted, and wondered what had happened. He was now on a dirt road and coming around a blind curve, he saw Alice and Kena standing over the body of a man. The dead man was dressed in cargo pants, that were covered in stains and small burns. The man wore a ludicrous puffy jacket that was color of faded teal. His dead blue eyes looked to the heavens, one lid half closed, the other wide open.
