Ring of Fire

by David Agranoff

  She fell back onto the couch, catching a quick glimpse of herself in a mirror. Her purple Mohawk was gray from all the ash. She felt filthy. It might help her to clean up. Help her feel human.

  “You want some food?” Robbins pulled up one of the dining room chairs and sat close to her. Austin shook with the horror of it all. “I need to rest for a few. Get changed.”

  “There are clothes upstairs, but don’t use the bathroom. The one down here has a shower, but no tub.”

  “What is wrong with the bathroom upstairs?”

  Changing the subject. “What happened out there?”

  She told him what she could, what she saw across town. The massive weapons fire at the bay. The soldiers talking about the ferals and berserkers. She told him about Lindsay and the co-op. He listened, even writing details in his notebook. He tried to seem sympathetic when she talked about her girlfriend. Austin knew better, he was focused on the message and his book. Just like her mother, Robbins was always thinking about the cause.

  She grew tired of talking and exhausted. Robbins put his pen down. He smiled at her.

  “Your mother would be proud of you surviving like this.”

  Austin felt like Robbins had slapped her. She didn’t have a mother or a home to go back to. It always bothered her but today for the first time in years she felt it was impossible to lie about it. She couldn’t hide her desire to be a normal daughter for one day in her life. Not today, not any day since she could remember could she be normal. She grew up at protests with a sign in her hand, forced to take in every movement her mother joined. She liked it when she was young, it was their normal, then when she was twelve she lost even that. No matter how tough she portrayed herself, she spent more hours of her life wishing for her mommy. She didn’t want to hear it from Robbins.

  “Don’t talk about her.”

  “She is not dead, Austin. She misses you.”

  “Her damn fault.”

  “That is your brother talking.”

  “Don’t dismiss my anger as his. She left us both.”

  “She got arrested, Austin, it wasn’t her choice.”

  Austin had this argument with her brother. She used to defend Mom. She understood her mother’s motivation. She was frustrated with the corporations that were killing the forests. She knew the names and addresses of the people who were killing the planet. To Sister Valerie, or Hawkeye, as she was known in the Green Resistance movement, it wasn’t something she couldn’t ignore.

  “She meant well. Her heart was in the right place but she was reckless. She endangered the whole movement.”

  Robbins shook his head. He was getting mad. “Your mother is a hero. She gave up her freedom to save this planet. She did it for your future.”

  “For my future? She recruited teenagers and first timers. They turned on her and the movement. A whole crew of people are rotting in jail because she couldn’t wait. Be smart about it. Every forest they fought for was lost. What did she get? Was it worth leaving me?”

  Robbins looked away. “She loves you, thinks about you every day.”

  Austin fought tears. “Me too. She missed my childhood.” She got up and walked to the kitchen. “Can we drop it? The fucking world is ending and she is still in prison.”

  ***

  They rose high above the smoke. Redcrow had no idea how high they were. Montgomery let him take the co-pilot seat. A half-dozen soldiers waited in the back for orders. It was hard to watch spike camp get overrun but he understood it was a matter of time. He looked back at his shell-shocked soldiers, across the night sky one other Cobra and a gunship took off. He had no idea how many escaped, but he left hundreds behind to fight on the ground.

  He knew he should feel something. Guilt, anger, frustration. It was hard to feel anything but numb at this point in the operation.

  They hovered for a few minutes. One of his gunners hung out the side and fired more than a hundred rounds until he was spent. It was like throwing seashells back into the ocean. The ferals overtook the camp like a tidal wave. No one said a word as they lifted higher and higher.

  Montgomery gasped as they saw the city. Lights were spotty, the canyons looked like the bed of a dying camp fire spread out from the city center like spider legs. An orange glow hung over the city as a wind coming off the ocean blew the smoke higher.

  “Mayday, mayday. We need back up at the San Ysidro border crossing. We need emergency EVAC! Now!”

  Redcrow and Montgomery shared a look, but he had already pushed the stick south. It took them five minutes at top speed. The smoke didn’t care about the international border, it moved slowly over the wall that separated Mexico and the U.S.

  They couldn’t see anything until the gunship lowered. The smoke blew away under the power of the mighty gunship. Redcrow cursed. Ferals by the thousands crawled and fought to climb over each other in both directions. It was as if two rivers had come together and the sea of humanity flowed into each other. He could hear the screams over the motor. He looked back into the gunship and saw the shocked look of his troops. They stared out the window at the sight.

  “Fuck me,” Montgomery said into his mic.

  Redcrow knew that Tijuana was the fifth largest city in Mexico, with a population of over a million. He also knew that it depended on the same water as San Diego through a treaty and the same aqueduct. They breathed the same the air. Both sides of the border had become a gathering of ferals as far the eye could see. The tiny wall that separated the two countries was meaningless now.

  He lowered the microphone on his headset. “All units open fire. Everything you have.”

  Montgomery tipped them lower and flipped open the switch that gave him control over the missiles. His old friend had his thumb over the launch but looked at him. He was about to say let it rip but the look was enough. The first rocket screamed off the launcher. The blast gave them a shake. Redcrow didn’t watch but just reminded himself that these were no longer people.

  The three helicopters on his left and right opened fire. They had to pull back, the flames spit into the sky. The screams, collective and in chaotic harmony, rose above the sound of motors and explosions.

  “Fire!” he yelled again and again.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Scott felt a sense of relief as they pulled into the parking lot of the 7-11. They were just out of downtown. Once they got to the bottom of the hill it was only a dozen blocks before the NBC building. The 7-11 was empty and the windows appeared unaffected. Once they pulled into the parking space he saw why. The store was dark now but there was a hand-written sign hanging in the window.

  ARMED - I WILL SHOOT YOU.

  The lights inside the half-empty refrigerator units were the only remaining light. The backlit store looked mostly empty, but that could have been a rush of shoppers not looters.

  “Everybody stay here, I got this.” Scott had his gas mask back on his forehead.

  “I’ll get my son’s water, thank you,” Jake insisted.

  Scott couldn’t believe he was still mad after all these years. Jake had his ego and anger tied into this moment when it shouldn’t have been. But Scott was the older brother he always looked up to. Jake had known how he felt about Victoria and still went after her. He was the one with the right to be angry. Jake held the grudge like a child.

  “Let him do it,” Victoria whispered and caressed Jake’s arm. Scott didn’t take it personally. The years had passed. He was truly happy for him. Scott wanted to tell him that. Tell him that he missed him, that he didn’t want anger between him. He was happy for his little bro. This wasn’t the time.

  “Someone go,” said Andrew. He pointed at the automatic shift. “I am not in park.”

  Scott slipped the gas mask over his face and hopped out. He took the three steps toward the front door of the store. Now he saw the store owner lying on the ground next to a shotgun. He looked dead. Scott knocked on the window.

  “Hello? I would like to buy some water.”

  He
knocked harder. Nothing. Scott tugged on the double doors. A deadbolt in the middle caught.

  Jake cracked the window. “Break it.”

  Scott thought about what to break it with. He pulled out the pistol. He only had 10 bullets. He didn’t want to waste one on the window. He flipped it around and held the pistol by the barrel. Scott swung and hit the glass with the handle. It bounced off. The second hit broke a small portion of the window. He was going to have to use a bullet or this would take all day.

  The 7-11 employee sat up behind the glass. He stood up slow as if still half asleep, he was overweight in life and carried it as a feral. His eyes were yellow and red but lightly. This was a new condition. It had trouble standing.

  Victoria cracked the window “We can go to the next place.”

  Now that the feral man straightened, he looked worse than Scott thought at first. His clothes were torn. He was covered in blood that soaked his legs. He looked confused, like a baby doe standing on legs yet unable to hold his weight.

  Scott saw a package of water bottles on a display by the register.

  “No, I got this. There is just one of them.”

  The feral ran on wobbly legs toward him. The glass stopped him. The two doors budged as he pushed forward but the lock held. The feral in the 7-11 uniform had a name tag, Rick. Scott thought about how normal this sight had become since the first feral he saw on the bus. How shocked he was to see the bus driver gunned down. He pulled out a tissue, ripped it in half and stuffed it in his ears. He put the pistol up against the glass by the feral’s forehead.

  Sorry, Rick no cure. Two birds with one stone. Gotta do it. All those thoughts ran through his head. Scott squeezed the trigger. The bullet smashed through the glass that instantly spider-webbed. The bullet traveled through the feral guy and hit the wall behind him in the store, chipping plaster on the wall above the Slurpee machine. The glass continued to crack as the dead feral slid down.

  Scott lifted his leg and kicked the glass. It finally shattered. As if in response, the screams came from deep in the store. Sounded like a dozen ferals. They stood from behind the last row of empty chips and cookies shelves.

  “Shit!” The back room door opened and more came pouring out. Scott pointed his pistol and shot the first one. In the same motion, he reached for the package of 12 water bottles shrink-wrapped in a thick plastic. It caught on the door frame and fell back on to the floor where the blood of the feral had pooled with a splat.

  The sliding door on the van opened as Jake jumped out to pull on Scott. The ferals ran at them. Scott had no chance to grab the water.

  “Nooo!”

  Jake grabbed his arm just as Scott pulled him to safety. They both dived into the van. Victoria slid the door shut. It caught on a feral arm, a woman’s arm. Scott kicked and pushed it out. Jake and Victoria pushed the door shut together. The faces of the ferals crowded in the window and screamed, biting at the van like they could crawl through.

  Andrew put the van in reverse, but more ferals came out of the mist and filled the back window. The children screamed. They were surrounded on all sides. Andrew grunted and squeezed the steering wheel. He had his foot on the pedal but they didn’t move.

  “Go!” Jake screamed.

  “I can’t!” Andrew yelled.

  Scott thought he heard the engine groaning with effort but it was hard to hear. Then the world turned. His stomach flipped as the group of ferals pushed the van enough to lift it off the ground. It was the weird feeling when you lose balance. The van suddenly flipped on its side with a crash. The windows that hit the pavement smashed under the weight. Scott felt the glass shatter on the door that was now under him. The kids were all strapped in but Tiffany cried, her face now had three huge cuts.

  The engine gunned but with no wheels on the pavement the wheels just spun. Scott looked out the front windshield. The ferals were leaving them, running to something else. It was a good thing because the windshield was almost gone. Then came the roaring clack-clack of machine gun fire. Multiple guns. The ferals he saw in front of the store were dancing under the shredding of automatic weapons fire.

  “What the fuck is happening?” Victoria cried out. The kids all covered their ears and screamed.

  Jake had grabbed his daughter and held her tight. Andrew punched the useless steering wheel, undid his seat belt and climbed to the back to find Adam. The smoke leaked in from the broken windshield.

  Scott crawled up and unlocked the sliding door from the side of the van now facing up. Scott stood on the broken glass of the bottom door and slid it open. He had to pull himself up to poke his head out. The ferals had forgotten them. They had swarmed toward a Humvee that was in the entrance to the parking lot. The soldiers were being overwhelmed. The parking lot was blocked even if they righted the van, all the windows were toast.

  Scott slid his gas mask back on. “Now we have to go!” They had a tiny window of time while the ferals were distracted. Scott lifted himself to stand on the driver’s side door. He reached down and pulled Andrew out first. He jumped down on to the ground. Adam was next. Jake pushed the kids up. Andrew caught him, turned back to catch Tiffany, and Damian.

  Scott reached down for Victoria’s hand. She hesitated for second. They locked eyes.

  “Come on, not now.” Scott yelled to Andrew “Go run!”

  Scott pulled Victoria up and she jumped, in seconds she was up and pushed her kids to run around the 7-11 away from the chaos on the Humvee. Scott felt a moment of relief when he took his brother’s hand. Their whole childhood he could never imagine lost years between them. It took this insanity to bring them back together.

  Jake climbed and jumped up in one motion. Scott took a last look at the ferals overwhelming the soldiers. Two more groups of Humvees pulled up. Soldiers jumped out, they opened fire. Scott followed Jake. Behind them a world of hurt for the ferals and uninfected soldiers alike.

  When they came around the back of the store they were in an alley. Scott cursed when he saw the source of the ferals. The back door to the 7-11 store room was wide open. The family, Andrew and Adam all ran. They coughed and fought to breathe.

  “Cover your faces!” Andrew yelled.

  “Help!” Victoria screamed.

  Jake ran beside Scott. “This is all your fault. We have nothing now.”

  Scott shook his head. “You wanted water.”

  “Oh, sure, it’s my fault.”

  Scott stopped Jake. “Will you stop it? I have moved on why can’t you?”

  “This is not the time,” Jake spit.

  Victoria continued to call for help.

  “You are certainly right, it is not the time. I came here to help you! You’re my brother god damn it!”

  “Here! Come here!”

  They all stopped. The voice of a woman. Scott was the last to walk up to the back porch of the house. The woman holding open the door was young. She had a purple Mohawk. An older black man with graying dreadlocks tied back stood beside her, waving them inside. They were an unlikely pair but beggars could not be choosers.

  They had no choice. Victoria was holding Damian and already up the back porch. Scott was the last to run to the door. He felt a sense of relief when the door shut behind him. He just didn’t know what they had stepped into.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Pretty soon we will be burning the midnight oil, folks. I am not sure how much longer I can stay on the air. So, for the time being we are going to pause for station identification. It might be a long pause or I might just have big Al loop the last hour.”

  Will didn’t even finish his point. He just hit the button that was his cheat. The 690 AM sounder. He took off his headphones. He didn’t even see Al in the booth. He couldn’t focus for the last twenty minutes feeling like the worst father on the planet. He had no idea what was going on with his daughters. He understood that Allison and Lindsay were up north far away but he needed to hear their voices.

  Will stepped out of the studio. Alex stood by the contr
ol room door. He had on a jacket and a Tijuana Xolos soccer team scarf over his face.

  “I started the loop. You have an hour. Get some rest.”

  “What are you all dressed up for?”

  Alex looked away and back at Will. He had an intense personality and he knew sometimes people avoided telling him things.

  “Spit it out, Alex.”

  “I gotta go. I can’t stay here.”

  “Look, take a break, get some food.”

  “And end up like Jeff? We don’t know what he ate around here. I’ve been thinking, Will. We got his blood on us. What if it was airborne, huh? We could be sick just like him.”

  “Give me a break. You’re healthy as horse. We just need some food, we’ll hit up the vending machines.”

  “I feel trapped. What we did to Jeff. . .”

  “Everybody feels trapped, you heard the police scanner. It is not safe out there.”

  Alex put his arms out and shrugged. Will couldn’t admit out loud, but he was afraid to be alone. If Alex left then all that would remain was the Willy and Jeff’s Rotting Corpse Show. He would be the last person in the entire station. He thought about begging Alex to stay but his mind translated it to anger.

  “Fine, just go. Get the fuck out right now.”

  “Will, I just. . .” Alex stepped closer to him and stopped. Their eyes locked and Alex looked like he had seen a ghost. He stepped back a bit. The anger grew inside Will.

  “You want to go, get! Just hurry your ass along.”

  “Will, I am sorry.”

  Will turned and walked into his office. Alex stood there for moment. Perhaps still debating what to do, but he turned and walked for the door. Will picked up a signed baseball and threw it back and forth in his hands. He watched Alex walk out through the office window.