by Bowman, Dave
“He's got a gun!” Lance cried as he tried to steady his own shaking hands.
Lance steeled himself. If Ricky didn't shoot, he would have to.
But the man's hands weren't reaching for a gun. They kept moving upward, toward his neck.
Lance and Ricky watched him, confused.
The man grabbed at his shirt collar, his fingers fumbling at the fabric like he could barely work them. He finally grabbed hold and pulled the shirt down, revealing his bare chest.
“What the . . .” Lance muttered. He was totally confused by this bizarre wild man.
The man opened his mouth and made some kind of croaking sound. Like he was trying to talk but couldn't quite get the words out.
Finally, he made the croaks form into words.
“Shoot me!” the man cried.
Ricky and Lance looked at each other.
“Dude, stop right there!” Ricky shouted.
But the man kept walking toward them. Stumbling toward them, really. He couldn't walk much better than he could talk. It was like he could hardly control his legs to keep from falling. Or maybe like he didn't care if he even stayed upright.
He was close enough for them to see his eyes. And that's when Ricky and Lance really got spooked. The pupils were huge, making his eyes look almost black. And they were clouded over, hazy. Lance had never seen anyone's eyes look like that.
Something about his eyes terrified them. He looked wild. Almost like an animal.
“Do it!” the man yelled, his face contorting. “Kill me!”
He was getting closer now. Lance saw just how tall he was. He towered over both of them. Those arms tugging on his collar were huge. Lance didn't trust him.
And worse, Lance didn't trust himself to get out of the situation, either.
Ricky was just as worried. He wasn't a murderer. He didn't want to shoot the guy. And he didn't know what would happen if that guy got any closer.
“Let's get out of here,” Ricky muttered to Lance.
Lance didn't need to hear another word. He turned tail and ran through the woods, moving faster than Ricky thought he could. Ricky took off behind him, before that huge guy could reach him. All he could hear was that lunatic making some noise behind him.
The man took another step forward, then tripped over a log. He fell to his knees on the ground. He watched the two kids disappear in the forest. He groaned in agony.
They had had guns. It had been a flash of hope. Maybe they would have ended it for him.
Paul let himself fall on his back, his weight sending a cloud of sandy dirt into the air around him. Overhead, a bird called, but he didn't hear it.
He had let them slip away. And he was alone again. Totally alone.
Those two kids had been the first people he had seen in a long time. It felt like a long time to him, anyway.
Paul didn't know how long he'd been wandering. All he knew was that he was in a forest. He was surrounded by trees. Big, tall trees. They seemed familiar to him somehow.
But he hadn't always been in a forest. At first, he had been on a road. There were a lot of houses around. But at some point, he stopped walking past houses and started walking into the trees.
And he had kept walking. For a long, long time.
Those two kids were the only people he had seen. Seeing them had reminded him of something – that he was in terrible pain. And he needed a way to end the pain. He had seen a brilliant flash of something in their hands – guns.
At last! It had been a way to end it all!
But then he had scared them away. The way out had slipped through his fingers.
He had messed it up, like he messed everything up.
He lay on the ground for a while longer. His eyes were closed. All around him, the forest grew dark quickly as the light faded.
When he opened his eyes again, it was night.
Finally, he pushed himself up and rose to his full height.
He was walking again.
It never occurred to him to consider where he was going or why he was walking, or even where he came from. But something inside him pushed him forward. Always forward. He couldn't turn back. Couldn't even think about what had happened back there.
He lurched blindly through the woods, scraping and cutting his skin, and nearly poking his eye out on branches multiple times. But he didn't feel the pain. Not that pain, anyway.
He just kept moving forward. And the only thought he had was a foggy hope that somehow it would come to an end.
3
Friday, 7:41 p.m. CST - Austin, Texas
Annie Hawthorne stood in the middle of the living room with her mouth open. Her breath quickening, she stared out the large picture window at Lake Travis.
The sun was sinking below the watery horizon, throwing its shimmery rays across the calm waters, and tinting the sky purple and red.
It was the most beautiful sunset she had ever seen.
Charlotte walked across the room and stopped at Annie's side.
“Nothing like a brush with death to make you appreciate the small things,” Charlotte said quietly.
Annie nodded as she watched the sun disappear.
Charlotte was right. There had been so many times when Annie feared she would never see another sunset. The past few days had been one brush with death after another.
“I can hardly believe we made it this far,” Annie said.
Charlotte chuckled. “Yeah, thanks to you.”
Annie swallowed. She didn't like to think about her latest feat, if she could call it that. Last night, she had shot Dan, whose house they now stood in. She had shot him after breaking free from the room he had locked her in, and after discovering his sinister intentions for the two women. Annie knew that he had meant them harm. He had been evil. But she was still weighted down with guilt.
“Let's get out of here,” Annie said as she suddenly felt a chill. “I don't want to spend another night here. If we hurry, we can get to my house before it's totally dark.”
They had spent two days and two nights in Dan's house, waiting for the danger of nuclear fallout to pass. After their run-in with Dan early the previous morning, they had spent today sleeping. Now, as the sun was setting, they were both wired and ready to move.
Annie turned and began to cross the room. She cringed from the sharp pain rising from the soles of her feet – reminders of the glass and rocks that had cut her as she had walked barefoot through the city. Not to mention the people that had trampled her in the panic after the EMP and nuclear attack.
Charlotte kept pace with her as they headed toward the library to gather their things.
“About that,” Charlotte began.
Annie didn't like the sound of her friend's voice. The two women had already hashed out their plan. They would take Dan's classic Porsche – one of the few cars that still worked after the EMP – and drive to Annie and Jack's house a couple miles away in West Austin. There, they would pack the essentials – food, first aid supplies, clothing, and perhaps most importantly, Jack's gun. Then they would set out toward their final destination: Jack's family's old ranch house in the small Texas town of Loretta. The rural, quiet property was a three hours' drive west of Austin.
Years before, Annie and her husband had discussed what they would do if they were ever separated in an extreme situation – like the one that had now fallen on the nation. They had planned to meet at the Loretta house. Now, Annie carried hope that Jack was still alive out in California, and that he would find his way back to her at the ranch house. She also hoped that the countryside would be safer than the big city they were now in.
Annie and Charlotte had settled on their plan – to stop at the Hawthornes' house in suburban Austin, then head west to Loretta. Now it was sounding like Charlotte wanted to change the plan.
“You don't mind if we stop at my place first, do you?” Charlotte asked casually as they entered the library.
Annie felt her jaw clench. “I thought you said you didn't need
anything from home.”
Annie thought of Charlotte's apartment – sparse and mostly empty, except for a closet packed full of business casual clothes and impractical shoes that wouldn't be worth much in this new world they found themselves in.
Charlotte didn't respond at first, so Annie continued. “You said you could wear my clothes. And you know we can stop at another pharmacy along the way to stock up on your medicine.”
Charlotte's apartment was in the opposite direction of their planned route. She lived a few miles to the southeast – several miles through areas of the city full of people who would kill for Dan's car.
“I know, I know,” Charlotte said as she gathered up the packaged food and packed it in a suitcase they had found in Dan's bedroom. “But you saw how things are out there. The pharmacies may have all been raided. What if I can't find my medication – what then?”
Annie bit her lip. She knew Charlotte was right. They couldn't count on finding what they needed in the stores. They couldn't count on anything anymore. And as an Addison's Disease patient, Charlotte was completely dependent on those pills. Without her medication to keep her illness managed, Charlotte would die.
Annie knew the urgency of Charlotte's situation, but she still hated the thought of driving back through Austin. It would have been so easy to head west toward Annie's house, then continue west toward Loretta – Dan's house was already in the suburbs, so they wouldn't have to cross through the roughest parts of the city.
The memory of traveling through the city two days ago was fresh in Annie's mind. The chaos in the streets, the death and destruction after the bomb, and the crowds attacking them as they rode in the Porsche. Annie longed to leave town and its crowds of dangerous, crazed people. But now, they would be forced to travel through a large swath of the city. And Annie couldn't think of anything more dangerous.
Except, of course, for the risk of Charlotte going into adrenal crisis and dying. Annie knew they had no choice but to make a stop at Charlotte's place.
She looked up from the duffel bag she was packing and met Charlotte's gaze.
“Of course we can go,” Annie said. “We'll go there first, okay?”
Charlotte smiled and nodded. “Thanks, Annie. I know this will delay us, but you know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important.”
Annie dismissed her worry with a wave of her hand. “It'll be fine. You're right – we have to get your meds.”
She ignored the nagging worry gaining strength inside her as they finished packing the food and supplies they had gathered from the silent house earlier. Her instinct was to get out of the city as quickly as possible, but she didn't want her friend to be thrown into a medical emergency.
Annie pushed her mass of red curls out of her face and stood up.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
“As ready as I'll ever be,” Charlotte said, grabbing the suitcase.
Annie tossed the bag over her shoulder and opened the library door. She led the way as the two women entered the long, dark hallway. They passed room after room, with each door closed.
“I wonder what Dan had in all these rooms,” Charlotte whispered.
Annie thought of the bizarre contraption in the room where Dan had kept her trapped, the same one she had later tied him to when she had knocked him unconscious.
“I'm glad we don't have to find out,” Annie responded, also in a whisper. She knew Dan was dead. She herself had shot him, of course. But as they walked through the quiet, intimidating house, it somehow seemed safer to keep their voices low.
As they neared the end of the hallway, Annie felt her pulse quicken. They passed the room where Dan, their kidnapper, lay dead. She held her breath, listening closely for any noise. She knew it was silly, but she half expected him to spring from some hiding place and finally get his revenge.
When they reached the garage door, Annie unlocked the door quickly. They stepped into the garage, and she felt she could breathe again.
Before them was the 1968 Porsche 911, just as Dan had left it.
Charlotte whistled as they paused to look at it. “That's a fine-looking vehicle,” Charlotte said in a nasally voice, her best impression of Dan Hamilton.
Annie laughed as she opened the car doors. The glass of the windows had been shattered, but the cobalt blue car was still impressive.
Charlotte stowed the luggage in the vehicle as Annie opened the garage door by hand.
The dim light of dusk streamed in the garage. Annie looked around outside at the driveway and street below. Everything looked just the same as it had when they arrived two days ago.
“It's almost like nothing even happened,” Annie mused before she turned and got in the driver's seat. Charlotte settled in the passenger side. Annie started the engine and smiled as it purred.
“Like music to my ears,” Charlotte said.
Annie drove the vehicle jerkily down the driveway. The clutch was stiff, and she wasn't used to driving such a high-end sports car.
“I thought you knew how to drive a stick shift,” Charlotte muttered, bracing herself in her seat.
Annie gave her a look. “Do you want to drive?”
Charlotte laughed and looked out the window. The neighborhood was empty and quiet. No one was out on the street.
“If it weren't for all the lights out,” Charlotte said, “you wouldn't even know anything had changed here.”
But no sooner had Charlotte said those words than they saw something that made them both gasp.
The headlights fell on a dead body lying in a pool of blood. It was a man, and he had been shot. Annie steered around the disturbing heap on the road. They continued on in silence.
Annie quickly got the hang of the sports car and began to breeze through the empty streets. Soon, they had left the upscale Lake Travis neighborhood and were entering an area full of stores and businesses. Most of the windows had been smashed. Signs of looting were everywhere. Still, the area was quiet at the moment. So far, there were no mobs of people trying to steal the car. Annie felt her shoulders relax a little.
“You see?” Charlotte said, sitting up in her seat. “Things aren't so bad. Just some ransacked businesses and a dead body here and there. But nobody's attacking us. We'll get to my place without a hitch.”
“But where is everyone?” Annie said as she drove under a non-functioning traffic light. “This place is empty. I thought there'd be more people on the streets.”
Charlotte shrugged. “I guess everyone is still hiding out at home.”
“I guess so,” Annie said, picking up speed and enjoying the power of the vehicle. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad. At this rate, they could stop at each of their homes and get out of the city in less than an hour.
“We have plenty of gas,” Annie added. She raised her voice to be heard over the noise of the wind blowing through the busted windows. “Three-quarters of a tank. That should be more than enough to get to the ranch.”
“Perfect,” Charlotte said as she swept her blonde hair to the side, trying to keep it from flying everywhere in the wind. “Shame about the windows, though.”
Annie nodded. The car's windows had blown out from the impact of the nuclear bomb, along with all the other windows within the blast radius.
Annie turned onto a large street – a major thoroughfare that would take them south to Charlotte's apartment. In that part of town, some of the windows had survived the blast, but most of them were shattered from looters. Doors had been torn from their hinges, and the stores had been raided. Annie had driven the road so many times before. She had never thought she would see it torn apart like this.
So much destruction.
She drove the car up a steep hill, losing a little speed as she climbed. When they came over the crest of the hill, she felt her breath catch in her lungs.
Suddenly, there were people everywhere. The street was filled with a large group of people, and they looked like they had been through hell. Bruises and dried blood covered many of their face
s and arms, and their clothes were soiled and torn.
But worst of all, many of them were armed.
Several men and a few women held rifles, shotguns, or handguns. Many of the kids had baseball bats, which they gripped intensely. All of them looked furious.
And all of them were staring right at the cobalt blue Porsche whose engine broke the unnatural silence of the city streets.
4
Jack opened the back door of the shack and stepped out into the night.
Brent and Naomi cautiously ventured out into the backyard behind him.
The three of them were relieved to escape the stale, decaying house, but also weary of what might be waiting for them.
“Isn't it kind of dangerous to travel at night?” Brent asked doubtfully. “We can't see anybody coming.”
Jack scanned the area, then spoke. “Yeah, but they can't see us either,” he said in a lowered voice. “Maybe we can get out of this side of town without any trouble.”
Jack carried a large backpack with the food they were able to salvage from Naomi's apartment. Naomi carried what few possessions of hers they could travel with in her own backpack, and Brent had some water, first aid supplies, and a few other essentials in another bag.
Naomi brought up the rear as they set off walking down the street.
“You okay back there?” Jack asked, glancing at her over his shoulder. “We're not going too fast?”
“No, I'm fine,” Naomi responded, her face burrowed down in the collar of her hoodie. She was short and petite, but fit, and could keep a brisk pace.
Jack was a bit concerned about how she'd do on their journey, now that it seemed like the trauma of the past few days had caught up to her. But he didn't have much time to worry. He had to keep his mind focused. He scanned their surroundings as they walked, watching for any movement or anomaly in the shadows. It was dark, but his eyes were accustomed to the low light, and he could see enough to be on the lookout for anyone on the quiet street.
Besides threats, he was also searching for a car, particularly a classic car that might still run after the EMP.
