Commodity

by Shay Savage

  Beck waves his arm in the direction of the street.

  “Where were you?” Caesar asks. “Any idea what happened?”

  “None,” Falk admits with a shake of his head. “We were downtown at the time. Took shelter in a MARTA tunnel. When we came back out, everyone was dead.”

  “How did you end up out here?” Beck asks.

  “I live near here,” Falk replies.

  “Who’s this?” Beck asks, indicating me. He runs his tongue over his lips and gives me a smile. “I feel like I know you from somewhere.”

  I swallow and start to respond, but Falk beats me to the punch.

  “Hannah,” Falk says tersely. “Where are you headed now?”

  Beck glances back and forth between me and Falk and raises his eyebrows. Ryan shuffles his feet, and Caesar stares at me closely. He widens his eyes, and I know he’s recognized me, but he doesn’t say anything.

  “I was going to head home,” Beck says. “Try the landline.”

  “Mine was dead,” Falk says. “What area are you in?”

  “Near Emory.”

  “You a student?”

  “Faculty,” Beck says. “I teach anthropology. Caesar and Ryan live in Valdosta, right by the Florida border.”

  “What do you do there?” Falk asks as he turns to the other two men. His questions are starting to sound like an interrogation, and Beck’s eyes narrow as his friends respond.

  “I’m a state trooper,” Caesar says. “Ryan’s been working at the local airport, saving money for school.”

  “I’m going for a law degree,” Ryan says, but Falk doesn’t look at him. His eyes are on Beck, and the two men are staring each other down. The silent interaction is unnerving.

  “You were military,” Falk says with a very matter-of-fact tone.

  “Yeah, briefly.” Beck’s throat bobs as he swallows.

  “What branch?”

  “Air Force. I was in communications.”

  “Deployed?”

  “No. Never called up.”

  Falk nods slowly.

  “What about you?” Beck asks.

  “Army. Infantry.” Falk doesn’t offer any additional details. They continue to stare at each other until Caesar speaks up again.

  “If the landlines are dead, we’ll have to gather more information another way,” he says. “We’ve got a car nearby.”

  “I’ve tried several,” Falk replies. “All of the batteries are dead.”

  “We’re parked just a couple of blocks from here,” Beck says. “Let’s at least give it a try.

  After listening to Beck’s car try to turn over for a couple of minutes without starting, everyone gathers in the street to discuss our next move.

  “We should stick together,” Beck says, “at least until we figure out what’s going on.”

  Falk glances at me, but I’m not sure if he’s looking for my opinion or not.

  “We did come out looking for people,” I say quietly.

  “Yeah, it makes sense,” he says after a moment of silence. He looks back to Beck. “Do you have any supplies?”

  “Just what’s in the car,” Beck says. “Back at the house I have more.”

  “Weapons?” Falk isn’t messing around.

  “Just a couple,” Beck says.

  “My Glock is back there, too,” Caesar offers. “I didn’t bring extra ammo, though.”

  “Should we go get them?” Ryan asks.

  “Yes,” Beck says. “Let’s collect what we can and search for more people. Emory’s campus might be a good place to look.”

  “We’ll follow you,” Falk says with a nod.

  The three men walk off down the street, and Falk and I trail behind. My leg is cramping up a bit, but I try not to let it slow me down.

  “How did you know that guy was in the military?” I ask.

  “The smell.” Falk glances at me out of the corner of his eye and his mouth twitches into a slight smile. “Knew he wasn’t army.”

  “But you were?”

  “Yes. Did four tours overseas.”

  He doesn’t seem interested in offering more information, and I don’t ask. Maybe he’ll tell me more about it later. The rest of the trip is silent as we walk to Beck’s house, just south of the Emory campus. It looks like it was a nice, suburban community with a Panera and a Chipotle, but the entire area has been leveled.

  Beck stands in front of what I assume used to be his house, staring toward the university. I can only determine what used to be there by the piles of red brick. Otherwise, it’s flattened.

  “Holy shit,” Beck mumbles.

  Caesar is poking around inside a black Toyota pickup parked at the curb. The back end has been smashed by a blue compact car, but the front seems to be intact. He ducks out of the vehicle with his hands full.

  “I don’t think my truck is going anywhere, battery or not,” he says, “but the important stuff survived.”

  He holds up a gun in a holster and a bottle of amber liquid.

  “Is that the Glenlivet?” Ryan asks.

  “Fifteen years.”

  “First positive thing I’ve heard all day!”

  All three of them laugh, and I find myself cracking a smile as well. I guess it really is the simple things when it comes right down to it. Falk doesn’t seem entertained by the idea, and he gestures to me to join him.

  Caesar hands the bottle to Beck and follows.

  “Are you still planning on heading to Washington?” Caesar asks. His voice is low, and I’m fairly sure Beck and Ryan don’t hear his question. Falk stares at Caesar for a moment without a response. “I’ve read the reports. I know who she is. I assume you are part of her security detail.”

  I bite down on my lip, remembering that Falk didn’t want me talking to these guys too much. I should have asked him why when we were walking, but I didn’t. I look over to him for direction and see him nod at Caesar once.

  “It makes sense to head that way,” Falk says. “It’s the most protected place in the country, and they’re bound to have more information than anyone we find here. Getting there is obviously an issue now. Whatever took out the electricity and everything else must have impacted lead-acid batteries. If I can find a vehicle that uses lithium-ion batteries, it might work.”

  “What do you think happened?”

  Falk glances at the sky but doesn’t offer a verbal opinion.

  Caesar looks over to me.

  “I assume you’d like to keep your identity under wraps.”

  “I’d prefer it, yes,” I respond. “It’s just easier that way.”

  “I’m not going to say anything,” he says, trying to reassure me. “I don’t think either of those guys would care, but there’s no telling who else we might run into.”

  “I would appreciate it if you don’t say anything.” Falk’s voice is steady and stern. “She’s still under my protection until I can get her to the right people in Washington.”

  “You’ve got more faith than I do,” Caesar mumbles.

  “It’s good to have a direction,” Falk responds coldly, “with or without faith.”

  I look back and forth between the two of them, trying to make sense of their conversation. Falk doesn’t seem interested in explaining, and I figure I’m going to have a lot of questions for him when we’re alone again.

  Beck approaches, abruptly ending the discussion.

  “There isn’t a whole lot inside the house that’s salvageable,” he says. “I did pull out my Berretta and my AR plus two boxes of ammo. I can’t get to the kitchen safely, but there is a Publix nearby. We’d have better luck finding food there anyway.”

  “Why don’t you go check it out,” Falk says, “and bring back whatever you can carry.”

  “Are you giving me orders already?” Beck’s got a half grin on his face as he looks at Falk, his head tilted to one side.

  Falk doesn’t move or respond, and the air around us suddenly seems electrified.

  “I could go,” I say quietl
y. It’s the first thought that comes to my mind to try to diminish the tension between the two. The look on Falk’s face is making me nervous, and Beck seems happy to keep poking the bear.

  “You’re staying here,” Falk says definitively.

  “Well, that was certainly an order!” Beck says with a laugh. “Why don’t you let the lady make her own choices?”

  “It’s fine, really,” I say quickly. “I don’t care one way or the other. I was just saying I could—”

  “You’re staying here,” Falk says again. He looks over to me and gives me a stern look. “You need to rest your leg, and we’re going to find decent shelter for the night. I don’t want to waste the time getting back to my place until I know for sure what else I need.”

  “Seems like that’s something you could do on your own,” Beck says.

  “I’ll go,” Caesar pipes up. “God knows what you’d consider nutrition anyway. Ryan and I can check it out and bring back what we need for a couple of days. Maybe we’ll find more survivors as well.”

  “Better ask him if that’s okay,” Beck says with a snort. “Maybe he’s already got you pegged for wood gathering.”

  Beck stomps back off toward his house, and Caesar sighs.

  “Don’t mind him,” he says quietly. “Everything he’s ever owned was in that place. He’s just in shock.”

  I look down at the ground, unsure what to do or say next. Conflict has always made me uncomfortable, but recently my life has revolved around it, and I don’t like it. Whenever I witness people arguing, it reminds me of how my parents would fight when I was young.

  “I’ll get him to go with me,” Caesar says. “Is there anything you need?”

  “See if there are any camping supplies,” Falk says, “especially lanterns and batteries. Flashlights, too.”

  “Will those batteries work?” Caesar asks.

  “They worked in my flashlight. Maybe the alkaline ones are fine. We’ll just have to figure it out as we go.”

  “Will do.” Caesar heads off.

  A crash from near Beck’s house catches our attention. Beck is kicking at the rubble and screaming obscenities while Caesar tries to calm him down.

  “Asshole,” Falk mutters under his breath.

  “Beck?”

  He glances over at me, his eyes dark, but doesn’t speak.

  “You don’t like him.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because in the infantry, we hate everyone else.” Falk hefts the rifle over his shoulder. “Also, because he’s a liar.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “He’s an anthropology professor with an assault rifle. You don’t find that odd?”

  “I didn’t really think about it. You have a lot more guns than he does.”

  “I have a reason for it.”

  “Maybe he’s been waiting for the zombies, too.” I smile, trying to make light of the antagonism, but Falk isn’t amused.

  “Stay clear of him,” Falk says with a growl.

  “How am I going to do that?”

  “Just stick by me.”

  “Fine.” I’m frustrated by the nature of Falk’s answers.

  Falk doesn’t get a chance to respond. Beck and Caesar walk back to us.

  “We’re heading to the store,” Caesar says. “Ryan’s going to stick around and help find a good place to set up camp for the night. We can talk about what to do tomorrow when we get back.”

  “All right,” Falk says without looking up. “Check the cars in the area. Look for something new enough and sporty enough to have a lithium battery. We’re going to need transportation options.”

  Beck’s jaw tenses and he glares at Falk. Caesar reaches out and pushes against Beck’s arm before he says anything.

  “I can do that,” he says as he pulls Beck away.

  Falk watches them walk off. Caesar puts his arm around Beck’s shoulders, and I think he’s speaking into his ear. Beck glances over his shoulder a couple of times before they move around a corner and out of sight.

  “What is it?” I ask quietly.

  Falk’s eyes stay on the men as they walk off. His expression is still dark and tense.

  “Just a feeling,” he finally says.

  “Do you trust them?” I look to Ryan, but he’s sifting through rubble near Beck’s house and not paying attention to us.

  “No, Hannah. I don’t.”

  Chapter 5

  “Should have just taken you back to my place,” Falk mumbles.

  He has set up a campsite away from the buildings, saying it’s safer in case there is more collapse, but he doesn’t seem to like the location. I can’t tell if I’m supposed to respond to his mutterings or not, so I say nothing.

  I think I’m still in shock.

  Caesar and Beck return with a load of supplies pilfered from the local supermarket, loaded into a large garden cart. They’ve got sleeping bags and tents, food, and a couple of camp stoves. Falk sets up one of the tents before coming over to me.

  “This is awkward, so I’m just going to come out with it,” he says. “I want you in the same tent with me. I don’t trust these guys, and I don’t want you alone. I hope that’s all right with you.”

  “It’s all right,” I say. If I am being honest with myself, I don’t want to be alone, and I know Falk better than anyone else here. “But you have to explain to me why you don’t trust them.”

  He looks into my eyes for a long moment, and his face finally relaxes a little.

  “I will,” he says, “after they go to sleep.”

  “Deal.” I smile at him, but it’s not returned.

  Falk goes to the cart to get some of the supplies for the tent, refusing my offers to help him, so I go and sit down near a small fire Ryan has going. I’m not cold at all—the sweatshirt Falk found for me is quite warm—but the fire is still nice.

  “So, how long you two been together?” Ryan asks.

  “What?” It takes me a moment to realize what he’s assumed, and I quickly shake my head. “We’re not together like that. We were just…traveling together. Our flight was cancelled, and we ended up in the city an extra night.”

  I glance in Falk’s direction, but the sun has set, and all I can see is the flicker of his flashlight. He never did explain why he didn’t want me talking to anyone, but I can hardly avoid it now. Besides, Ryan seems harmless enough.

  “Damn.” Ryan whistles. He shuffles a couple of rocks around the edge of the fire to keep it enclosed. “Maybe you could have avoided all this if you had gotten out in time.”

  “It’s not just here.” Caesar joins us and tosses more wood on the fire, sending sparks flying.

  “How do you know that?” Ryan asks.

  “If it was limited to the Atlanta area, someone would have come by now,” he explains. “State authorities, the National Guard—someone. We’d see planes overhead, but there haven’t been any. Not a single jet trail.”

  I look up at the sky, and there isn’t a single blinking light up there. No signs of life at all. I curl my legs underneath me and bite at the edge of my thumb.

  “That makes sense,” Ryan says with a nod. “So how widespread do you think it is?”

  “There’s no real way to tell.” Caesar picks up a stick and pokes at the embers. “I don’t think you’d like my opinion.”

  “What is it?” I ask.

  The beam from Falk’s flashlight crosses in front of me, and I turn my head as he sits on the ground next to me. He looks over at Caesar and gives him a little nod.

  “Go on,” Falk says. “Let’s hear it.”

  “Same thing you’re thinking,” Caesar says. “This hasn’t been an invasion by anyone close by.”

  “What do you mean ‘close by’?” Ryan grabs the bottle of scotch and opens it as Caesar hands him a couple of red plastic cups.

  “This wasn’t some terrorist group. They don’t have that kind of firepower. They couldn’t have taken out one city like that,
and this goes way beyond Atlanta.”

  “What was it then?” I ask.

  “There’s really only one plausible answer,” Falk says slowly.

  I look back and forth between him and Caesar, but neither offers any further explanation. They’re being obtuse, and it’s pissing me off, and I finally snap at them both.

  “Whatever the hell you two are thinking, spit it out!” I address them both, but my eyes are on Falk.

  “Alien invasion,” he says.

  “Alien?” I repeat. “You mean, like aliens from outer space?”

  He nods, and I laugh out loud, but everyone just looks at me until I stop.

  “Are you serious?” He can’t be. The whole idea is ludicrous.

  “You have a better idea?”

  “Anything but that!”

  “It’s the only thing that fits what we know,” Caesar says. “The most destructive force we have is nukes. If Atlanta had been nuked, it would have taken everyone with it, not just men. There’s no explanation for the women and children disappearing.”

  “Dogs, too,” I add. “Maybe cats.”

  “I hadn’t thought about it,” Caesar says, “but you’re right. I haven’t seen a single dog or cat.”

  “Humans don’t have the kind of technology to do something like this,” Falk says as he scratches the back of his head. “There’s nothing that kills exposed men and evaporates women, children, and domestic animals.”

  “So your first thought is little green men?” Ryan questions. “Isn’t there some other possibility?”

  “You think the plants have risen up, pissed about the ozone layer?” Beck joins the circle between Caesar and Ryan.

  “There weren’t any spaceships.” I point this out in hopes of another idea coming into someone’s head.

  “If they were up far enough, we wouldn’t have seen them,” Caesar says. “Whatever happened wasn’t the result of technology that comes from here. If it’s not from here, that makes it extraterrestrial.”

  “There could be something we don’t know about,” I say. “A secret weapon.”

  “A weapon that makes women and children disappear? What year do you think you live in?” Beck snickers.

  Everyone is silent for a few minutes, sipping their scotch and staring at the fire.

  “What do they want?” I ask.