“Fatima,” she answered.
“Ah, you are a follower of the prophet. For you are named after his wife.”
“Yes that’s who I’m named after,” she confirmed her name but was unwilling to tell him she wasn’t a believer. If the Christians were acting psycho she was unsure if this man wouldn’t perform an honor killing while she slept.
“What were you doing by that gas station anyway?” Fatima sought to change the subject.
“I worked at the gas station down the street. Some men walked up and tried to rob me, but I had kept the door locked to keep looters out. When they shot the door open I left out the back and escaped. I hid and then watched as they did the same thing to the Sikh. These Americans are so ignorant they don’t know one man different from another. I heard one say ‘if they are brown, put them down’ you believe that?”
Fatima wasn’t going to sleep that night but couldn’t travel either. With the lights out everything was in a deep black fog.
“How did you end up at the gas station?” Amir asked.
“I worked at the hospital. They closed it down once the generators gave up and looters were trying to get in,” she explained. “When I left I was car jacked and I have been trying to get to the daycare ever since.”
“You are a brave woman. Is your husband with your sons?” Amir asked.
She knew how not to answer the question.
“My husband is dead,” she lied not knowing how strict of a follower Amir was.
“I am sorry to hear that,” Amir said laying back in the seat. “Good night Fatima.”
“Good night Amir.”
The next morning Fatima walked outside to noticed she was only a mile away from the daycare center. She stood up and fell to the floor. Her feet were swollen and painful to stand on. She was able to catch herself and not hit her head on the concrete. Around her were fake buildings made out of press board. Spray painted on the sides were names for each one. There was a “bank” and “nail salon” across from the Jaguar. In front of the Jaguar was a press board Humvee with hinged doors and “USA” spray painted on the side.
“Who needs to play air soft when you have the real thing outside?” she said.
“Like I said, a safe place for the night.” Amir stepped out of the car and stretched his back. He came around the car and helped her to her feet. “Once you get moving you should be fine.”
“I won’t, but thanks for trying to be positive,” she said. She would travel better with crutches, but didn’t have any.
She grabbed her bag from the backseat. It was a horrible pillow.
Fatima limped to the loading dock they had entered from. There were small stairs with no hand rail. Amir climbed out first to see if it was clear. Fatima followed but lost her balance on the stairs. Amir caught her and she struggled to get back on her feet. She could tell he was not comfortable touching her, but they didn’t have a choice.
She kept her arm around his shoulder and used him to balance.
They went to the road and walked toward their destination. They could hear gunshots around city but nothing close by. An hour later the daycare was in sight. Her heart raced she wanted to run and let go of Amir. She stumble towards the building. They found the front door open and the glass window next to it shattered.
“No,” she said as she rushed inside. She stumbled through the broken glass.
She walked though the lobby and found the owner and five children in the playroom. Carol, held a small knife and lifted her arm until she saw that it was Fatima walking in. She started to cry and dropped her shaking arm and the knife. The woman sobbed and Fatima crouched down looking at her. There was a deep cut in her brow and blood filled her eye.
“Carol, where are they?” Fatima said.
“I’m sorry,” it was not what Fatima wanted to hear. She stood up and looked around. A little girl point out to the playground. She rushed outside. Amir had heard such screams as a child in his homeland. He knew what she had found.
Fatima ran up to the bodies and rolled them over swatting the flies off. She found William first then Charles. She cradled their bodies and cried and screamed when she could muster the energy. Amir stood in the doorway looking at her not sure what to do. He went inside and started to pray.
Fatima tried to look at their faces but the bullet that killed Charles disfigured him as it exited. She didn’t want to remember him that way, but it was impossible not to see.
An hour later Fatima went inside the building and went to the kitchen. She grabbed a bowl and dish towel. She filled the bowl with water and carried it outside. Carol still sat against the wall mumbling she was sorry. Maybe one day Fatima would acknowledge Carol tried to protect them, but this was not that day. She picked up her boys one at a time and laid them on the picnic table. She removed their shirts and pants and washed their bodies. She tried to ignore the blood dripping through the panels of wood onto the ground. She took blankets from the daycare and wrapped the bodies. Amir was digging graves at the back of the playground. When Fatima was finished he had three holes completed.
“I have two more,” he said.
“No you’re done. Bury those three. I’m digging for my sons.”
Amir carried the other bodies over and set them in the graves. Fatima took some wooden rulers from the daycare and wrote the names of the three children on them marking the graves. At least the parents wouldn’t have to go through what she did.
Fatima dug the graves for her boys and placed their bodies inside. She used her bare hands to put the dirt back inside. She stayed by their side until the sunset.
Inside Amir made food for Carol and the children. Carol didn’t eat and the children barely chewed their food.
“You need to come out of it and take care of these children,” Amir said to Carol.
“I can’t even protect them,” Carol said.
Amir walked over and slapped Carol across the face.
She started to cry and scream.
“Pull yourself together. You need to take care of these children. Understand?” Amir yelled at her.
“Yes, yes, ok.” Carol walked over to the counter and picked up the food that Amir had prepared. She handed the bowls to the children who continued to eat.
Fatima walked back inside. Amir had placed candles around the room to light it up.
Carol stared out into space as she slowly chewed her food.
“You, over here,” Fatima said to Carol.
Carol sat down her eye was in a daze starring into nothing. The other red from the blood and likely blinding her.
Fatima grabbed the gym bag and found medical supplies the daycare kept. She used hydrogen peroxide to clean the blood around the eye. The cut was still bleeding.
“Are you on blood thinners?” Fatima asked.
“Asprin,” Carol said.
Fatima took a suture kit out.
“I don’t have anything to numb the area.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Fatima finally acknowledged Carol was in shock. She never flinched as Fatima closed the wound, sewing it shut.
Fatima gripped Carol’s jaw and looked into her eye.
“Carol,” she said.
“Yes,” Carol replied.
“Snap out of it.” Fatima said. She didn’t know how much longer she could play doctor before breaking down again.
“Ok,” Carol said.
“No, really, look at me. You’re going to take care of these kids. Understand?”
“Ok, ok, ok,” Carol said.
Fatima sighed.
Carol stood up and looked at the kids.
“Is everybody finished eating?” Carol said.
She was starting to act like herself again. Fatima didn’t know how much more Carol could handle.
“It’s time to go,” Amir said.
Fatima didn’t respond. She watched Carol and considered if she could really take care of these children. Then she nodded, grabbed the gym bag, and walking out the entrance. She t
hough about seeing the grave one last time, but knew she wouldn’t leave if she did. With her boys gone now she didn’t know what she was supposed to do. Her life had lost meaning and didn’t know if she wanted to exist anymore. She wished there were cars still driving around so she could walk in front of one. She didn’t know if she wanted to run away from the Lord’s Army if she saw them. If they would just shoot her on sight she would be fine with that, but she was a beautiful woman and knew the odds were they would rape her before or worse. She wanted it to be quick, not dragged out. She noticed her feet again and the limp returned as they moved away from the daycare.
Chapter 11
The drive home was taking longer than usual. Cars that had stopped running when the EMP hit were left in the street unless the owner was thoughtful enough to put it in neutral and push it to the curb. Most people were not that polite. Dr. Hartman swerved around the cars. He wasn’t able to drive faster than fifteen miles per hour in the city. When he reached the state highway he was able to go a little faster but didn’t go above forty miles per hour. He had to stop if people left their cars in the road.
The highway didn’t appear to be a big deal. Most people pulled into the breakdown lane when the power went out. Many cars had the hoods popped up to show they had broken down, but were now the cars were abandoned.
The sun was starting to come up. He had been driving a few hours now. What was normally an hour drive one way, had become an all night ordeal. Fallen tree branches that weren’t cleaned up made him take alternate routes. The side streets and country roads became a maze. He lost an hour trying to get back to the highway. He wished he had kept an ax or chainsaw in his trunk to cut a path through the road.
He didn’t think he had much food at home and decided to stop at the convenience store outside his subdivision. The morning sun was up and he had been awake for over 24 hours. He didn’t see the neon “open” sign. Instead taped to the door was a cardboard sign made with magic marker reading “open.”
He walked in and the clerk that usually worked the store was behind the counter.
“Hartman,” the clerk said acknowledging his regular customer.
“Bill, how’s business?” Hartman asked.
“Shitty, like how you look. Long shift?” Bill asked moving his hand away from under the counter.
“You could say that,” Hartman looked over the shelves of leftovers. Popular food disappeared first. Potato chips, beef jerky, candy bars, and sodas were gone. “Looks like business is good.”
“Can’t sell anything if orders aren’t being delivered,” Bill said leaning over the counter. “Had to dump the milk out back. Stunk to high heaven.”
“Still taking cash?” Hartman asked.
“Ya, I figure the government has some plan for something like this. Unless you got something better to trade.”
“Don’t know about that, but I have cash.” Hartman picked up a few cans of tuna fish from the shelve.
The bell on the door rang and a young man walked in. He hadn’t bathed in days and looked nervous. Bill moved his hands below the counter.
“Nope, hands where I can see them.” the young man raised an old .22 revolver at Bill.
“Boy,” Bill said putting his hands up.
“Cash old man.”
“Cash ain’t no good anymore. I was robbed yesterday,” Bill said.
“Don’t give me that shit. Cash now!” the young man yelled.
“What do you need?” Hartman asked. It was the first time the young man knew Hartman was in the store.
“Where the hell you come from?” The young man moved the gun back and forth between the two of them. “Move over there.” The young man pointed at the counter.
“You don’t need cash, you need something else. What is it you need?” Hartman asked.
“Um, um, baby formula, diapers.”
“Ok, ok, take a breath. I saw some back on that shelf. Go grab what you can.” Hartman started to reach back in his pants pocket.
“No hands up,” the young man said.
“I’m just getting my wallet, see?” Hartman turned around showing his pants. He pulled the wallet out and opened it taking some bills out. “I’m buying the formula and diapers for you.”
“What? Why? Nevermind.” The young man went to the shelf and grabbed the two cans of formula and a bag of diapers. He walked back to the door with one arm full and the other holding the gun. “You drive here?”
Hartman didn’t know if he should lie to keep the car.
“Ya.”
“Give me your keys.” Hartman sighed and tossed the keys to the kid. They fell to the floor and the kid bent down to pick them up. “Don’t move.”
Bill and Hartman left their hands up in the air.
The kid went out the door and Hartman heard the car door close and the engine start.
“Shit,” Hartman said to Bill.
“That’s what you get for being nice. Should have blown his head off,” Bill said.
“He has a baby waiting at home,” Hartman said.
“He keeps acting like that he won’t make it back home one day. Here,” Bill handed Hartman a box to fill with items. “I’m closing up. Not doing this anymore. Take what you can carry and I’ll lock up.”
“You sure?”
“Ya, stuff is going to go bad anyway. Things go back to normal I’ll file a claim with my insurance. If things stay like this at least it will get used.”
Hartman went though the shelves and found some roasted peanuts, cans of tuna fish, ramen noodles, saltine crackers, and other odds and ends that people didn’t care for. It wasn’t much but it was more than what he had at home.
Bill pulled his double barrel shotgun from under the counter and locked the front door dead bolt. He flipped the cardboard sign over showing the closed sign reading “Nothing inside, they stole everything.”
“We’ll go out the back.” Bill said showing Hartman the exit. They went out the back door and Bill locked the deadbolt.
“I’ll walk you home. You go down the street with a box of food and you’ll get robbed again,” Bill said.
“I appreciate it,” Hartman said thinking about dipping into the peanut butter for something to put in his stomach.
As they walked down the street Hartman tried to learn about what happened and Bill was just as clueless as everyone else.
“Well there was the nuke in Washington. They were guessing who did it. Nobody claimed it. That’s unlike those Muslims. They love claiming that kind of thing even if they didn’t do it. So who knows. Doesn’t matter now anyway with the power out,” Bill said.
“There was a guy at the hospital who said it was an EMP. Electro magnetic pulse that turned the power off. Made sense with the cell phones and cars not running,” Hartman shared.
“How was your car running?” Bill said thinking about his truck.
“I parked in the ramp that day and got lucky. Must have created a buffer. I don’t know.”
“Well if that’s true I guess we are all screwed. You know the government stuff is shut down too. Nobody’s coming to help us. Wow, an entire country shut down in an instant. Ain’t that something. “
“Whoever did it knew what they were doing,” Hartman said. “You sure you don’t need any of this?” Hartman said referring to the food.
“No, the wife cans the food from the garden and I still have stuff in the freezer.”
“But there is no power.”
“I bought his windmill from a catalog a few years ago, battery system and everything. Never hooked it up. The wife was pissed I never did anything with it. After the power went out I finally set it up and hooked up the batteries. Gives just enough power to run the freezers and some of the lights in the basement. If I had set it up before that might have been fried like everything else I guess. Maybe it pays to be lazy.”
They both laughed.
“Well here’s my place. Stop by if you ever need anything,” Hartman said.
“No problem w
ill do. Take care of the wife.” Bill rested the shotgun on his shoulder and walked down the street to his home three miles away.
As Hartman walked up to the house the front door flew open and his wife of over twenty years ran out into the yard. He set the box down just in time for her to wrap her arms around him crying. They stayed there for a few minutes before she was finally able to talk.
“Where have you been?” she said.
“I couldn’t leave. Things are really bad out there. I left when the hospital shut down.” he explained.
“I couldn’t call you. I had no idea if you were dead. I couldn’t start the car. I didn’t know what to do,” she said as her mascara ran down her cheeks.
“I’m sorry, I’m home now. Let’s figure out what we need to do,” Hartman said.
“I want to go see the kids,” she said.
“We don’t have a car and they live out of state.”
“I need to know they are alright.”
“I’m sure they are fine,” Hartman lied to her. Their oldest son lived in Chicago when the power went out. Their daughter was going to college in California. He hoped they were safe and that’s all he could do was hope. “Have you talked to the neighbors?”
“No, the Millers across the street left in that old VW bus they kept in the driveway. Pissed me off since the BMW won’t start. Did you walk all the way home?” she asked.
They sat down at the dining room table and he told her what he knew. He told her what happened at the store with Bill.
“Well we can just go to another store right? They all can’t be shut down. Somebody has power,” she said.
“We are on our own,” Hartman said. He wanted to be honest and upfront with her on what they were facing.
That afternoon Hartman went to the neighbors’ houses and knocked on their doors. When they answered he told them he was putting a meeting together for them to discuss what they were going to do. Most of them had already run out of food. Some had tried hunting in the surrounding area and were grilling small game they brought home. Most of the wives told themselves they were eating chicken if they did eat. The men called it “tree chicken.”
At the meeting they discovered three of their neighbors were master gardeners. A handful of the men were experienced hunters. A half dozen people had gone fishing as a kid, but hadn’t done it since then. Only one person had any fishing equipment that was collecting dust in the garage. Many of the houses had electric furnaces in the basements that no longer worked. Electric stoves sat useless in the kitchens. Hartman had a gas fed fireplace in his living room like so many others. Nobody knew if they could be converted to wood burning or not. Some of the neighbors did have wood burning fire places and one had a wood burning stove they used for cooking and heat.
Remnants of the Day- The Lost Years Page 9
