There was no way Abby was letting someone she just met into her home, nor was she interested in making friends. “Well, maybe he could at least tell me more about the city,” she thought. “But I’m still not letting him in here.”
“How about we go out instead?” Abby asked, preferring to be in a public area.
“Oh. Sure, we can do that too,” Hiamovi replied.
“Good. Wait there,” Abby said as she closed the door. She dressed quickly, slipping into a pair of blue jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. She put on her new shoes, found a new jacket in her closet (Nora really shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble, Abby thought), and retrieved her envelope of money, folding it in half and stuffing it in her back pocket. She then grabbed her keys before unlocking her door and stepping out into the hallway. She locked her door, gave it a tug to make sure it was secure, then turned to face Hiamovi.
“Anywhere specific you want to go?” Hiamovi asked, but Abby just shook her head. “Well, are you hungry?” he asked, and to this Abby nodded her head. “Okay, let’s head down to the market. I’ll show you around a bit while we’re there.”
Abby walked to the right of Hiamovi and slightly behind him so that he would be well within her peripheral vision. She didn’t think she had anything to fear from him, but old habits die hard.
“So do you like your new home?” Hiamovi asked Abby once they were outside. Abby nodded her head in reply as she glanced at their surroundings.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” Hiamovi asked with a curious grin. Abby shook her head. “May I ask why?” Hiamovi prodded.
“Perhaps I’ve taken a solemn vow to never speak when gestures will suffice,” Abby said, making a cryptic reference to one of her favorite books, Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott.
Hiamovi chuckled and said, “So would that make you a duplicitous clerk and me a meddling knight?”
Abby looked up at Hiamovi, surprised and, admittedly, a little crestfallen that he caught her reference. “Well, at least we have something in common,” she huffed.
“I’d be willing to bet that we have a lot in common,” Hiamovi said cheerfully, but Abby didn’t reply.
***
Hiamovi walked Abby towards a market that was a little over a mile away. As they went, he would point out where major landmarks were and where they stood in relation to the rest of the city, as well as explain the three separate districts. On the outskirts of town, out in the slums, was District 3. Few people lived out there, and most were impoverished. Soldiers avoided this district, so there existed very little law and order there.
District 2, where they lived, was the largest district and considered the middle-class section of the city. People here lived in relative comfort and most were able to maintain a somewhat normal lifestyle. Unemployment was high by pre-Crisis standards, and they did have many options in terms of entertainment, fashion, or food, but when compared to District 3, the people here had little to complain about. The only thing worse about District 2 was that they were strictly policed, and very little was done or spoken that was not monitored by the authorities. It was far from ideal, but most people were simply content to be alive and healthy, and so did not raise their voice in protest, not daring to bite the hand that fed them.
Abby would have noticed the intense security in District 2 even without Hiamovi’s explanation. Here and there they came across soldiers, most in camouflage utilities but a few dressed in all black.
Hiamovi told Abby that all military branches and law enforcement agencies had been absorbed by the federal government years ago and placed under the direct control of the new Department of American Security, or DAS for short. The ones wearing all black were DAS agents, or Tories as some secretly called them, in reference to the name given to American colonists who had supported the Crown during the Revolutionary War. These soldiers were especially dangerous.
At the center of the city was District 1, the smallest in both size and population. This land of the elite, by the elite, and for the elite was a modern day paradise and served as the hub for all American politics. The people that lived here were senators and dignitaries, generals and police chiefs, and anyone else who was obscenely wealthy. Here could be found the new White House and Senate building, both of which were smaller than their predecessors but similar in design. This district also housed the city’s military sector, where DAS agents were trained and housed in barracks.
However, nothing in District 1 could be seen by Abby or anyone else. Hiamovi explained that a couple years ago the government erected a massive barrier that surrounded the district. The wall was almost twenty feet high and made of solid steel. Watch towers stood at regular intervals, each one of which was equipped with a powerful searchlight and a tri-pod for an M240B medium machine gun. Triple-stranded concertina wire topped the wall, making it impossible to climb. The only people from District 2 allowed inside the wall were soldiers reporting for guard duty, and even they were forbidden from going even one step inside the wall that was not directly towards their post.
The farther along that she walked, the more fear that Abby saw in the citizens of this once proud city. Anytime a soldier or DAS agent walked near a group of people, any conversation ceased. They would look down at their shoes, hoping to be passed by without incident. Even if they were doing nothing wrong, they still feared some kind of punishment. No one smiled and bid a good morning to passing strangers as the people in Little America had. One could walk for several minutes without hearing any laughter whatsoever.
During those dark days following Zach’s death, when Abby was all alone in the Wild, she would always envision the new American capitol as a glorious utopia. She would one day see a shining city on a hill, a city that would finally offer her peace. She would walk through golden gates to the sound of trumpets and all would be well.
But her fantasies crumbled in contrast to the dreadful reality all around her. The people here were so safe from the horrors of the zombies of the Wild that most of them had never even seen one, and yet they lived in misery. On the other hand, the people of Little America had lived in very real danger of not only zombie hordes, but also megalomaniacal war lords, and yet they were some of the happiest people Abby had ever seen. She wondered what Zach would have to say about this.
“You’re still surprised by all this, aren’t you?” Hiamovi asked, noting the thoughtful look on Abby’s face. She nodded her head. “It all happened pretty much overnight, from what I remember. The outbreak in Chicago freaked everyone out. The news kept saying to head west, and that’s what a lot of people did. But I heard a lot of people went north into Canada, and most of the East Coast just stayed there, but no one has heard anything from out there in years.”
“Once most of the population was past the Rockies, President Arthur claimed emergency power and rebuilt the capitol right here. Everyone was just so scared of the zombies, so they allowed him to seize and abuse all kinds of power. We just wanted to be safe, so we didn’t even stop to think about what was going on behind the curtains.”
“Talk about striking when the iron is hot,” Abby murmured.
“Yup,” Hiamovi replied, shaking his head. “They really didn’t let that crisis go to waste.”
“Wait a second, President Arthur? I thought Arthur was the Vice President then,” Abby said, scratching her head. She didn’t remember much of the Before Times, but she was rather certain that the President then wasn’t named Arthur.
“Don’t you remember?” Hiamovi asked. Abby looked confused, so he added, “The President turned during a live press conference. One second he’s telling everyone to remain calm, and the next he’s tearing the Secretary of State’s face off with his teeth.”
“Oh,” Abby responded. She actually never knew about that.
“Arthur became the president after that, and he hit the ground running.”
“So bizarre,” Abby said, shaking her head.
Once they made it to the market, Abby and Hiamovi stopped at a small d
iner and bought sandwiches for an early dinner. They sat down at a table in the corner, where Abby once again placed herself in a position to keep an eye on the entrance.
“So where do you come from, Abby? I noticed you have a little Southern accent going on,” Hiamovi asked after swallowing the first bite of his ham and cheese sandwich.
“Where are you from?” Abby responded without looking up from her lunch.
“Not far away, actually. South Dakota,” Hiamovi said.
Abby nodded her head but didn’t say anything. Hiamovi gave a little grin and motioned towards Abby with his hand. She sighed, looking up into his sable eyes. They reminded her of Zach, Abby realized.
“Texas. Moved around the state a lot,” Abby explained. “But I was living in Chicago when The Crisis started.”
“Whoa, so you were right in the thick of it all? The zombies?”
“You could say that.”
“I’ve never even seen one of those things,” Hiamovi admitted.
“You’re lucky as hell then,” Abby said as she took another bite of her turkey sandwich.
“Oh, I know. Just seeing them on the news scared the hell out of me. Did you ever kill one?”
Abby huffed loudly. “That’s a pretty fucking insensitive question, don’t you think?”
“Oh, y-yeah,” Hiamovi stammered. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
A long pause filled the air between them that quickly became unbearable. Abby decided to throw Hiamovi a lifeline and pull him out of the awkward situation into which he had flung himself. “So you and your granddad are Native American?” she asked.
“Yup,” Hiamovi said, grateful that Abby had changed the subject. “Cheyenne, to be specific. I moved in with Granddad last year, a month after I turned fifteen.”
“So you’re sixteen now?” Abby asked. Hiamovi nodded his head. “I thought you were at least eighteen, for sure,” she said.
“Why, are you eighteen?” Hiamovi asked.
“Fifteen,” she replied.
“No way,” Hiamovi said in disbelief, but Abby just shrugged her shoulders. “So you made it all the way out here from Chicago on your own and you’re only fifteen? That’s… really impressive.”
“Thanks, I guess,” Abby replied.
She and Hiamovi had both finished eating by now and got up, heading towards the exit. A small group of teenagers had just entered the diner and were standing around the door, probably waiting for another friend of theirs. They were all laughing and goofing around a bit, and when Abby was walking by them, one of the boys was shoved by his friend, and he bumped into Abby. She wasn’t hurt at first, but the boy’s elbow hit her in the stomach, right where she’d been shot.
Abby grunted in pain as she fell to one knee, pressing her hand against her wound.
Hiamovi stepped up next to her and said to the boy, “Hey, why don’t you be more careful?”
“I barely touched her!” said the boy who had hit Abby, surprised that she had reacted so dramatically.
“Just quit jackassing around,” Hiamovi said as he helped Abby to her feet. He started to put his arm around her to support her but Abby shrugged him off.
“I can walk,” she said.
“You sure?” Hiamovi asked, but Abby answered by straightening up and walking out the door under her own power.
Once they were both outside, Hiamovi asked, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Hiamovi. He just hit me right where I got shot,” Abby responded.
“You were shot?! By who?”
“Some soldier.”
“Typical,” Hiamovi said with disgust. “I guess that’s what led to you being here, huh? Come on, I’ll get you home.”
Hiamovi walked Abby all the way back to their apartment building, but at a slower pace so that she could keep up. The pain in Abby’s chest was getting worse as she walked, and despite her efforts to conceal that, Hiamovi still noticed. He offered to carry her, or to at least help her walk, but she insisted on doing it herself.
When they finally made it back to Abby’s door, Hiamovi told Abby, “If you want to hang out again sometime, just let me know.”
Abby unlocked her door, but did not open it just yet. “Look Hiamovi,” she said, “I’ll be honest. Don’t waste your time trying to get to know me. I’m not looking for anything right now.”
“Oh, I’m not trying to be your boyfriend or anything,” Hiamovi replied, and truthfully. “Granddad said you’re all alone and I just figured that you should have at least one friend.”
“I know you were just trying to be friendly,” Abby said. “But I’m not looking for any type of acquaintance. I’ve been through a lot recently, and I’m still trying to sort everything out. Now’s not a good time for me to be bringing people into my life, even if they’re just friends.”
“Oh, I see,” Hiamovi answered, a little dejected but still chipper. “Well, for what it’s worth, I enjoyed spending at least a little time together.”
Abby paused, then quietly said, “So did I.”
“I guess I’ll see you around then.”
“Yeah.”
Without another word, Hiamovi walked away as Abby entered her apartment, locking the door behind her then leaning against it. She let out a loud, frustrated sigh. Hiamovi was nice, and Abby rather liked him so far, but what she told him was true. She knew that she was in a fragile state and had concluded that the best thing for her to do was to isolate herself. She was still trying to figure out what she was going to do with her life now that she was in a civilized metropolis. For so long, she had never looked much farther ahead than the next day. Surviving until the sun rose again was her only ambition. But all that was different now. She was in a world that she did not understand, and she did not have anyone to mentor her. Zach would know what to do, but…
“I wish you were here to help me,” Abby whispered. “You said I make you proud, but I don’t believe you. I’m just a kid, and all I ever did was get you into trouble. How could you be proud of that?”
Abby banged her head against the back of the door as if to emphasize her point, but she hit it a little harder than she meant to. “Ow,” she said. She slid down to the ground, still leaning against the door and rubbing the back of her head.
“Who am I supposed to be?” she mused. “What am I supposed to do?”
Chapter Sixteen
The next day, when Abby woke up, she decided to head back out to the market to get some food for her apartment. She got dressed in warm clothes and her coat, then emptied her ruck so she could use it to carry whatever she bought. She put her money in her pocket, her ruck on her shoulders, and her hat on her head, then she headed outside, trying to remember the directions that Hiamovi had given her yesterday.
She took her time getting there, as the gunshot in her abdomen still bothered her. She hurt a little bit less than she did yesterday, but it would take a long time until she would be at full strength again. “Yeah, if people could stop shooting, stabbing, and punching me, that’d be great,” Abby whispered to herself.
When she got to the market, Abby made simple choices in her food selection, hoping to stretch her money as far as she could. She didn’t inherit too many traits from her mother, but frugality was definitely one of them, and after only thirty minutes, her ruck was stuffed with food.
She began her walk home from the market, scanning her surroundings as she went in what was sure to be a lifelong habit by now. Ahead and to her left, Abby noticed a family of four standing just outside of a small grocery shop: a man and woman, a young girl, and a baby in the woman’s arms, all deathly skinny. The man, who was holding a bag full of food, appeared to have a quiet argument with the owner of the store as the woman pulled the girl away, presumably to keep her from hearing what was being discussed.
“… practically twice as much as last month! I can’t afford this!” Abby heard the man say as she came closer.
“And I told you that costs went up!” the shopkeeper said to the man, the fr
ustration on her face as evident as the man’s. “With the new shipping regulations, rates went up just as taxes went up, too.”
“I’ve got a family to feed.”
“So do I, sir.”
“I don’t, so here,” said Abby.
The man and the shopkeeper turned to look at Abby, who was holding out a few currency notes. She hadn’t intended to get involved, but after listening in on the conversation and watching the mother do her best to put up a cheerful front for her daughter, Abby couldn’t just walk away.
“I’ll pay the difference. Will this cover it?” Abby asked.
“Uh, yes. Yes, that’ll do it,” the shopkeeper said as she took Abby’s money. “Just let me get your change.”
“Keep it.”
“No, it’s too much.”
“Call it a tip.”
The shopkeeper smiled at Abby, then disappeared into the store to help other customers. The woman, likely the man’s wife, noticed what Abby had done and returned with the baby and the young girl.
“Th-thank you,” the man finally said, looking at Abby through misty eyes. “Who are you?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Abby said. “Here.”
She held out another handful of cash, a large portion of what she had left. The man and woman reacted as if she’d pointed a gun at them, flinching and taking a step back.
“Oh no. We can’t take that,” the woman insisted.
Really, we’ll be okay. You need that just as much as we do,” the man said.
“Fine, don’t take it. Just accept it,” Abby said, and she dropped the money into the man’s cloth bag.
Unable to protest any further, the man and woman thanked Abby, but she just looked down at the girl. Her big blue eyes had lit up as she looked at the bag of food, shining in stark contrast to her dirty, sullen cheeks. Abby thought that the girl looked a little bit like her, and she wondered if this was how she looked when Zach had come across her for the first time. She wanted to give the girl a gift, something small but meaningful, like Zach had done when he made a slingshot for her. So she took her hat off and held it out to the young girl.
His Name Was Zach (Book 2): Her Name Was Abby Page 16
