Aftermath

by LeVar Burton

  “You deserted?”

  Red nodded. “In the middle of a firefight I laid my weapon down, took off my uniform, and walked out of there. I don’t know how I made it without getting shot. Lucky, I guess. I kept walking until I was clean out of the state.”

  “What happened then?” Leon asked.

  “I joined up with a religious group in Indiana, stayed with them for almost a year. But it wasn’t for me. No matter how hard I prayed, how many times I confessed my sins, I couldn’t come clean. Blood just doesn’t wash off that easily. So I left them. Traveled around for a while, mostly in the South.”

  “And ended up becoming an Earthie,” Leon added for him.

  “You got it. But their teachings were just as flawed as those of the Jesus freaks. All they want to do is sit around and meditate, channeling their energy for the betterment of mankind. What a crock of shit. If they want to help other people, then they should share some of the food they’ve got stockpiled. You wouldn’t believe how much they’ve got stored away. They’re sitting fat while their so-called brothers and sisters starve.”

  Red stopped talking and turned to Leon. “I’ve said enough. Your turn.”

  Leon took a deep breath, thinking over what he would say. He wanted to tell Red about his job at NASA, about the magazine article that caused so much grief, the Senate investigation, everything. He wanted to lay his guilt and anguish at the man’s feet, finally confessing to someone how badly he hurt deep inside, telling what it was like to have his heart ripped out every time he saw a cloud, a beautiful woman, or heard the laughter of a child.

  Leon wanted to share the shame he felt when he mentally compared every little girl he saw to the memory of his daughter, gauging the differences in their height, their weight, the color of their skin, even how many teeth they had. And with each comparison the old wounds opened up, the pain flowing as thick and as fresh as the day he lost the child he loved so very much.

  But he could not bring himself to speak of such things to a complete stranger. Even if he had the courage to talk of what lay heaviest upon his heart, the words would not pass through his constricted throat. Only a hissing of air would tumble past his lips, a hissing that spoke of his love for Vanessa and Anita, and of the sorrow and guilt he felt.

  Instead of talking about his heartaches, baring his soul to a man he hardly knew, Leon spoke only about his encounter with the woman in the alley and the voice he now heard.

  “And you’re certain this voice you hear is the woman from the alley?” Red asked.

  Leon nodded. “Sometimes I see her face too.”

  Red leaned back. “Wow, that’s pretty heavy. No wonder you’re talking to yourself. I’m surprised you haven’t gone loony.”

  “I just might if I can’t find her.” Leon stared out into the night for a moment, and then turned to Red. “You used to be an Earthie. Don’t they believe in clairvoyance and thought projection?”

  “Believe in it? Yes. Can any of them actually do it? No. At least none of the ones I know. It’s like the Bible thumpers who believe in God though they’ve never seen him.”

  “You’re no help,” Leon said, sarcastically.

  “Hey, at least I gave you an honest answer. Any other Earthie would have talked your ears off about the great harmonic conversion, spirit guides and channeling.” He grinned. “Maybe you’re hearing a ghost.”

  “Why would a ghost tell me to go to Chicago?”

  Red shrugged. “To tell you the truth, I don’t believe in any of this mumbo jumbo, woo woo stuff.”

  Red might not believe in ghosts or spirits but Leon did, which was why he had been so upset when he first heard the voice. He thought it was Vanessa, calling to him from the great beyond. But he knew now that it wasn’t his wife’s voice. He was also certain that it wasn’t a ghost he heard.

  “It’s not a ghost,” Leon answered. “She’s alive.”

  “Chicago’s a big city. If she is alive, how are you going to find her?” questioned Red.

  “I don’t know. I’ll worry about that when I get there.” Leon started to ask some more about the Earthies’ belief in thought projection, but he was interrupted by the train’s whistle suddenly splitting the night. The whistle was immediately followed by the screech of brakes being applied. Looking out the open doorway, he saw that someone had lit a pair of torches and stuck them in the ground next to the tracks. The torches were crossed, forming a flaming X. Red also saw the torches and jumped to his feet.

  “What’s wrong?” Leon asked, concerned.

  “There’s a transient camp nearby,” Red answered.

  “So?”

  “The torches are a warning for their brothers of the road. There’s bandits up ahead.”

  “Bandits?” Leon also jumped to his feet.

  “Bandits, robbers, thieves … call them what you want. They must have blocked the tracks. We’ve got to get out of here.”

  Leon looked around at the other passengers. “What about the others? We have to warn them.”

  “There isn’t time. Hurry!” Red ran toward the other side of the boxcar. Leon started to follow, but as he turned away from the open door he spotted three men standing beside the tracks. Barely visible in the moonlight, they were dressed entirely in black, their faces hidden behind masks. The men watched the train as it slowly came to a stop.

  Bandits!

  Red had already reached the other side of the boxcar and was fumbling to slide the door open. Awakened by the train’s whistle, some of the passengers were sitting up. Others were on their feet, alert to the fact that something was amiss. Leon was halfway across the boxcar when he spotted two familiar shapes in the darkness. He paused to grab the woman’s arm and pull her to her feet.

  “Bandits,” he whispered.

  María’s eyes went wide, and Leon felt a tremor of fear pass through her body. She turned, grabbing her bag with one hand and Edrick’s wrist with the other. Sensing something was wrong, the child made no effort to resist his mother’s urgings.

  Red was still struggling with the door when several bandits swarmed aboard the boxcar. Instantly everything turned into chaos. The bandits, armed with pistols and wooden clubs, fired a couple of shots into the air and yelled for everyone to raise their hands and keep still. But no one did.

  Women and children screamed in terror, clinging to one another for protection. The passengers closest to the open doorway tried to run, colliding against and tripping over those behind them. One man lunged at one of the robbers and was shot dead, as was another man who pulled a knife from his belt. A third man jumped up to protect his wife, only to be viciously clubbed until he lay unconscious and bleeding on the floor.

  The shootings and beatings sent a wave of panic through the other passengers. They were all on their feet now, pushing, shoving, trying to flee from the bandits in a boxcar grown terribly small. The darkness was choking. The bandits shouted for everyone to sit back down, but their orders were drowned out by the frightened cries of their victims.

  “Help me!” Red said, struggling to get the door open. Reluctantly turning his back on the bandits, Leon stepped up to help. Together they forced the heavy metal door along the track, one inch at a time.

  They had just gotten the door open enough to squeeze through when another shot rang out, close enough to leave a ringing in Leon’s ears. He spun around and found one of the robbers only a few feet away. The man was on his knees, holding his stomach. Blood oozed from between his fingers and ran down his shirt. María stood in front of the thief, a smoking pistol clutched tightly in her hands. Leon watched as she squeezed the trigger again, shooting the man in the face. Satisfied, she turned around, grabbed Edrick’s arm and hurried to join them.

  They jumped from the opening to the ground. Red went first, followed by María and Edrick. Leon brought up the rear. Outside the night was filled with gunshots and screams as dark-clad bandits scurried over the train like hungry ants.

  In front of the train, a barricade of burnin
g logs had been laid across the tracks. In the glow of those logs, Leon could see a small group of bandits guarding the engine. They were armed with rifles, but made no move to either board the engine or rob those who drove the train. It was obvious that it was only the passengers they were interested in.

  “This way,” Red said, running toward the rear of the train. Leon and the others followed, trying to keep up. They had almost reached the last car when there was a metallic ping as something struck one of the boxcars, just above Leon’s head. Turning, he saw several bandits slip from the darkness beneath the train and race toward them. Bright flashes of gunfire lit the night. Another bullet struck the boxcar next to María.

  “Move, move, move!” Red yelled, urging them to greater speed. They raced along the tracks, stumbling over loose gravel and railroad ties, trying to outrun the men chasing them. María still clutched her pistol in her right hand, but dared not stop to shoot. She could only run along, dragging Edrick with her.

  More bandits suddenly emerged from the darkness at the rear of the train. They were cut off, surrounded.

  “The woods!” Leon said, grabbing María’s arm and steering her away from the tracks toward the forest. Red grabbed Edrick’s other arm. Together they fled for the protection of the trees.

  They reached the forest and plunged headfirst into the darkness. Shots rang out behind them as the bandits realized they were getting away and attempted to stop them. The bullets struck all around, snapping branches and knocking bark from trees. Luckily, no one was hit.

  “Keep running!” Red warned. “It’s not over yet” He took the lead, weaving a path between the trees, forcing his way through a tangle of vines, branches and bushes. Behind them, they could hear the shouts of the bandits and the crashing sounds of pursuit. Those sounds soon faded, however, and eventually stopped. Even then, they continued running for another ten minutes or so before finally halting.

  “I think we lost them,” Leon said, listening carefully. Except for their heavy breathing, the night had grown strangely silent.

  “I think you’re right,” Red agreed, struggling to catch his breath. “They won’t follow us here when there’s easy picking back at the train.”

  “Those poor people,” María said as she hugged her son.

  “Why didn’t you warn them?” Leon asked Red, wondering about the man’s lack of caring prior to the bandit attack.

  “There wasn’t time,” he replied. “Besides, they would have panicked and crowded the door. None of us would have gotten out then.”

  Leon thought about what Red said and nodded. He was probably right. Had they told the others that they were about to be robbed, there would have been a panic. Even more people would have been killed. “Okay, where do we go from here?”

  Red looked around. “We’ve got to head back to the tracks.”

  “Are you crazy?” Leon asked. “The bandits are still there. They’ll kill us for sure.”

  “He’s right” María added.

  “But we can’t go wandering through these woods at night. We’ll end up lost. I need the tracks to steer by.”

  “Then we don’t go walking around,” Leon said. “We sit right here until daylight, or until the bandits leave. Whichever comes first”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Red agreed. He sat down on the ground, his back against a tree. “God, I’m thirsty. I wish we had some water.”

  María rummaged in her bag and pulled out several oranges. “How about orange juice?” She tossed one of the oranges to Red, another to Leon.

  Leon thanked her for the orange. Taking a seat on the ground, he quartered the orange with his butcher knife and then passed the knife to Red. He bit down on an orange section, allowing the juice to run down his throat. As he ate the orange, he listened to the sounds around them. He could still hear an occasional gunshot, but they were too far away to be of any concern. They were safe, but somewhere in the distance people were being terrified, robbed, even killed. The sounds made his skin crawl.

  Chapter 20

  The bath was hot and steamy, and scented with lilac bubble bath. Amy stood naked next to the tub, breathing in the flowery fragrance and feeling the steam caress her skin. Holding the tub’s side for support, she slowly eased one tiny foot into the water and then the other. She gasped as she sat down, the hot water stinging her butt and turning her skin a rosy pink.

  She picked up a bar of white soap from the soap dish and sniffed it. Unlike the bathwater the soap had no smell. Disappointed, she slowly rubbed the bar over her skin, gradually working up a lather. With the aid of a face cloth, Amy scrubbed the dirt from where it had gathered in the folds of her skin. Her elbows and knees were the dirtiest. She giggled when she cleaned the bottom of her feet and between her toes.

  Finished with her body, Amy filled her right palm with herbal-scented shampoo and began to wash her hair. She shampooed twice to make sure all the coal dust was removed. She had just rinsed her hair with clean water when Sister Rose appeared.

  Amy watched as Sister Rose scooped up the dirty clothes from the bathroom floor and left. She reappeared a few minutes later with an armload of replacement items.

  “We’re in luck. I had a couple of boxes of church donations in the back room.” She placed the pile of clothing on the toilet lid. “Some of these should fit you. If they don’t, then I’ll just have to wash what you were wearing.” She flashed a smile. “But I think the dirt is the only thing holding your clothes together.”

  Amy eyed the new clothing, but made no move to get out of the tub. She was enjoying her bath and didn’t want it to end so soon. Rose shook her head. “Child, if you stay in there any longer you’ll get wrinkles on your butt.”

  “I don’t care.” Amy laughed. “It feels good.”

  “Won’t feel so good when that water gets cold,” Rose replied. “Besides, I’ve made cocoa.”

  Cocoa? Real cocoa? Amy sat up straight. She had never had cocoa before. Excited, she pulled the plug and stood up. Rose handed her a towel and then left the room.

  Drying quickly, she tried on some of the clothing, selecting a gray T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans that were only a little too big. They were boy’s jeans, but she didn’t mind. Amy also found socks and panties that were in much better condition than the ones she’d been wearing. Once dressed, she combed the tangles from her hair and ran water in the tub to remove the dirt ring. Hanging her towel over the shower rod, she turned off the light.

  Rose waited for her in the living room. Two cups of hot cocoa sat on the small table in front of her. Amy sat on the couch beside Rose and accepted one of the cups. The cocoa was rich and sweet, and warmed her stomach in a delicious sort of way. The beverage hardly had time to cool before Amy finished it. She would have asked for more, but that would have been rude so she didn’t. Instead she leaned back on the couch and listened to Rose talk about how things were a long time ago. Amy tried to pay attention to what was being said, but she felt her thoughts drifting and could only nod occasionally. Before she knew it, she was asleep.

  Amy awoke later that night. She was still on the living room couch, but someone had thrown a blanket over her. Probably Sister Rose. The house was dark, quiet except for the occasional creak of the building settling in place and Sister Rose’s snoring coming from the back bedroom. Amy lay on the couch, her eyes open, listening to the sounds. From somewhere down the street a dog barked. She thought of Sammy lying on the front porch and wondered if dogs had dreams.

  Satisfied that everything was all right, Amy started to drift back to sleep. For a moment she wondered what had awakened her, but only for a moment as slumber raced to overcome her. She was just about to drift off when she remembered what it was. A voice. A woman’s voice.

  Help me.

  She heard it again. Tossing the blanket off her, Amy sat up and looked around. In the darkness the unfamiliar room became scarier than it should have been. Shadowy pieces of furniture took on ominous, threatening shapes. Oversized chairs became toadlik
e creatures, while lamps reached for her with scarecrow fingers.

  Help me!

  Amy was too terrified to move. Someone cried out for help, which meant that danger lurked nearby. She started to grab the blanket and cover her head to hide but stopped. What if it was Sister Rose who called for help? How could she ignore the cries of someone who had treated her with such kindness? She couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right

  Easing off the sofa, she slowly navigated her way through the crowded living room. She banged her shin on an end table and nearly knocked over a lamp before reaching the hallway that led to the back bedrooms. The door to Sister Rose’s room was open; Amy stood in the doorway and listened.

  “Sister Rose?” she called softly.

  The bedroom was pitch-black and draped in silence. Amy couldn’t tell if Rose was in the room or not. Feeling like an intruder, she stepped across the threshold and entered the tiny bedroom. As she inched forward something began to materialize out of the darkness. A bed. There was a dark shape on the bed.

  She was almost to the bed when the shape moved and began to snore again. Her heart jumped with fright, but then she relaxed. Sister Rose was sleeping soundly; no harm had come to her. The voice that awoke Amy was not hers.

  Retreating from the bedroom, Amy slowly made her way to the front of the house. She checked to make sure the front door was locked. It was. Her jingling of the latch produced a whine from Sammy and a scratching at the door.

  “Shhhh, Sammy. It’s all right,” she whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

  Turning away from the front door, she went back into the living room and sat down. No one else was in the house, so the cry must have come from outside. Someone was in danger, but she didn’t know who. Or where. Amy also didn’t know what she could possibly do to help that person.