by C C Roth
Mike shook his head in disapproval. “I’m not sure I want to know.”
“What? I’m a student driver, there’s a learning curve.”
We sat outside enjoying the sun and the feeling of a full stomach. Wyatt fell asleep in the grass, thank god, so it was peaceful for the moment.
“Navin is right. We should sit tight for the rest of today and head out first thing in the morning. With those supplies we should have enough to last us through our next move, whatever it is.”
“You have any idea as to what that might be?” Navin asked.
“Not really. I’m hoping a solution will present itself. We know where we’re going but how to get in and get back out alive, I haven’t quite figured out yet. I mean we all saw that building. It was like an army base.”
Mike shrugged his mouth up, wanting to say something but debating.
“What is it?”
“Maybe we should just head back home. We came this far and checked it out, but I don’t see how we move forward without killing ourselves or ending up locked in that building with this Noah kid. That place is no joke, Sam and we’re not prepared for it at all.”
Luis and Wyatt both nodded. Navin looked to me for a response. Apparently, we’d bonded on our adventure back in Freemont, so I knew he’d go along with whatever I said.
“I’m not giving up. Not yet. Not until there is no other choice.”
I stood up, making that my final word on the issue and went back inside the warehouse. I needed space from all the questions and doubt. People constantly asking me, What’s next? What’s next? was exhausting. Like I plan anything. Sunlight from the windows twenty feet up cast dusty beams of warmth through the air giving an illusion of laser beams as I walked across the concrete floor. The building had been a small t-shirt printing company and appeared to have been abandoned early on. I guess no one orders shirts marked Feeling Blessed when the world is ending. The main room was full of machines and equipment but one of the side rooms was stocked to the ceiling with blank t-shirts in every possible size and color. We all picked out a couple to keep and the rest we spread out on the floor to use as a one giant mattress. The room was totally covered in piles of shirts, so we were sleeping on a Poly Cotton blend rainbow which looked hilarious but as it turns out, t-shirts stacked thirty-deep are really comfortable.
I grabbed my backpack and propped myself up in the corner of my makeshift bed. My hand found Mom’s journal and I leaned back, flipping through the pages, wondering what I might find next. I’d stumbled on one entry yesterday that I just couldn’t move past. I’d read it twenty times already and her words just kept drifting through my head. She’d written about me, about being worried because something was wrong with me. She even said she was scared of me sometimes, her own daughter. I wanted to read the next entry, but I was afraid of what it would say. To read she was frightened of me hurt so much I didn’t know if I could take another hit. How do you tell your baby that she’s innately the same as a serial killer? I just don’t think I have it in me. Maybe we can help her on our own.
I shoved the book back in my bag and folded my arms around my knees. “A serial killer,” those were the words she chose when she thought about me. Nice.
Are you really surprised? my cold friend asked.
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.”
You’re being dramatic. She didn’t understand you. Not like I do.
“What should I do?”
There’s nothing to do. She’s gone.
“Why did she write that? Is it true? What’s wrong with me?”
Well you’re talking to a voice in your head so, yes. It’s probably true.
I slammed my head back against the concrete wall, sending a thud of pain through my skull. “Shut up!”
We are stronger together. We are better. You don’t need her approval to be who you are.
“Maybe I should just go home with Mike. It’s what he wants.”
No. You don’t want to go home. You have no home.
The coldness inside me had grown and taken over, as if it were its own person. It was louder and stronger, but it was also giving me strength. I needed it. I fed off of it, or rather we fed off of each other. Because of It, I didn’t feel fear or loneliness. I didn’t feel hesitation. Mike was worried for me and I could sense his frustration growing. Soon enough he would know what I really was. It seemed my mother knew long before I did, and she’d been right. That was why she had pushed me away my whole life, why she was always studying me, waiting to see when I would implode. A ripple of annoyance ebbed through me as I realized I wasn’t really hurt by her words so much as disappointed. If those were her feelings then it explained so many things about us, why she treated me the way she did. She wasn’t just a distant person in general, she was distancing herself from her psycho daughter who she feared might stab her to death in her sleep.
We fear what we can’t understand. She couldn’t see how spectacular you are.
Anger pushed aside my fear as I ripped her journal back out of the bag and flipped it open to a random page in the middle. Surely the whole thing couldn’t just be her blasting me.
Journal Entry
April 29, 2020
We had such a fantastic day at the zoo today. The kids were in rare form and Jack and I could barely keep them contained. Sam wanted desperately to ride an elephant but of course the rides were closed so we headed over to see the ocean exhibit instead. We passed an amazing exhibit of rare birds from China on loan from another zoo. At least 20. The kids loved seeing the dolphins springing through the air. Such a fun day! Sent R. a ton of pics.
I read it twice and stared at the date again. She wrote the entry only two years ago which would mean I would’ve been 14. I had no memory of going to the zoo at that age and I was pretty sure Mike wouldn’t have been caught dead with his parents in public. Not to mention her words gave the impression she was talking about much younger kids, definitely not teenagers. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe Mom just wrote the wrong date down. Curious, I flipped the page. But the entry before was basic enough and the date tracked as only being one month prior. What the hell? Mom didn’t do mistakes. The more I thought about it the more I was sure that day never happened. But then why the hell did she write it? Maybe it was just wishful thinking? Longing for a day of family fun with the perfect daughter she never had. But who the hell was R.? She sent pictures to our family all the time. Aunt Serena was always texting, asking for more pictures. But no one in our family had the initial R.
I flipped through page after page, her elegant writing blurring together with each turn. Most of the entries were about marriage and the complexities of work, blah, blah, blah. But then I found another one, another entry that didn’t add up. She wrote about a vacation we took on a cruise ship and detailed all the ports we stopped at to shop for the day. That trip never happened, I sure as hell would have remembered a cruise. And there it was again, the mystery person called R. My brain hurt and now I wanted answers more than ever. Mike would know, maybe. I jumped up to run and talk to him but then remembered he sort of hated me at that moment. Dammit. I flopped back down on the t-shirts defeated, my legs a wobbly mess. Exhausted didn’t cover what I was feeling. Maybe coma-like was a better description. No sleep and too much thinking is physically painful.
I passed out before the sun even went down. My body, having destroyed its supply of adrenaline, blissfully let go of resisting sleep for 12 whole amazing hours. The most sleep I’d had in almost a week, maybe even months. No voice, no dreams, just blackout. My body felt heavy when I woke as if I’d been out for so long my muscles had atrophied. The guys were still taking turns snoring, so I took a walk to stretch and find a suitable bathroom spot before they all woke up. It was early and the sky was painted a fantastic spray of orange and pink as the sun crawled over the horizon. I sat on a rock to watch as everything slowly came to life around me. The grass was still damp as I snuggled into Noah’s oversized sweatshirt Ellen had
given me. I could smell him on the soft cotton, a mild scent of soap and something like citrus still lingering. I’d been wondering a lot about him, about who he was, if he was okay. Could he see the same sunrise from where he was or did his captors have him locked in some depressing room with no windows? Or was he dead already and I was risking our lives on something that didn’t even exist? Wasting time wondering was useless when there was only one way to be sure. I knew we’d find a way into that lab somehow. If nothing else I could always march right up to the front gate and ask if he was there. They couldn’t shoot me for that, could they?
Yes, they could.
I heard a crunching sound and turned to see a deer moving through the tall field of grass on my right. She stopped to stare at me, her head turned slightly as she sized me up flicking her ears. I whistled and she darted back into the grass for cover, her hooves making delicate thuds as she bounded away. If we were back at the cabin, like Mike wanted, the deer would be strolling right past us as if we weren’t even there. It was their woods after all, had been for years. We were the visitors. The grass stilled itself as the sound of the deer faded away and I was in silence once more. Every morning was silent. There were no birds to speak of these days since so many were wiped out after the initial outbreak and the mornings still felt creepy with all that nothingness in the air. As if each day was a quiet reminder that you could be next. I stood and shook off the gloom. We needed to get moving soon if we wanted to get back to the trucks and swipe what was left of the supplies. Time to rally the troops.
I not so gently kicked Wyatt’s pillow he was sleeping on and laughed as he jumped and shrieked himself awake. Like an alarm clock, his squawk woke everyone else up and soon we were loading into the tiny car. Mike and I in the front and everyone else piled in the back complaining about not having enough room with all three of them crammed together. They had a point, with five of us we really needed a bigger car.
“If you’re all good boys today then maybe we can go car shopping,” I teased.
“No thanks,” Navin said. “I’ve seen how that goes.”
“Yeah, maybe Luis and I will find something later. Alone,” Mike added calmly.
“Right. Something that doesn’t already belong to someone else,” Navin jabbed.
“You guys are boring.”
Of course, everything we took belonged to someone else or at least used to. What he meant was I should only take things from people who were dead. Deep discounts at the store of the deceased. The doors are always open 24/7, you can take whatever you can carry, with convenient locations throughout the U.S. Sure it’s a bit morbid but the variety and endless supply will have you coming back for more.
The factory Navin and I had hidden behind the day before was only minutes away so it should have been a quick trip. But when did “should” ever deliver? Everything was just as we’d left it and the guys were pretty excited about all the boxes in the truck. I watched Wyatt jump up and down in the back, bouncing around like a kid when he saw what was in each package. The cargo must’ve been from a vending machine supplier or something because it had just about everything back there. Luis, who was helpful but also proving to be a bit broody, hung back and tried to play it cool until someone yelled out, “Oreos!” Then like a flash he was up in the truck celebrating with the rest of them.
What a difference a day makes, my mother would have said. Yesterday we were hungry and aimless and now we were celebrating. That’s one of the pros of surviving the end of everything. Your celebrations may be fewer, but they somehow mean so much more.
Just as I was thinking I should go and stand watch while the guys unloaded our loot, I heard a familiar click from behind me. It was the cocking of a handgun which was resting against the back of my skull. A shiver of adrenaline tingled down my spine and I had to resist the urge to smile. I was silently thrilled for a taste of excitement, a feeling I knew shouldn’t be washing over me, but guilt be damned I’d been so flipping bored. Mike and the guys slowly raised their hands in the air then all looked to me expectantly. Statue still, I hadn’t budged yet, wondering if I could make a move.
You’re faster. Do it, my cold friend taunted.
As if he could read my mind, Navin slowly shook his head and held up six fingers with his arms still up in the air. We were outgunned. I was quick but not that quick.
So maybe the noisy one gets killed. Who cares?
Crap. I put my hands up in surrender and slowly turned around to face my assailant.
Stunning was the word that came to mind when I first saw Karina. I would quickly find out she was utterly unbearable, but for a moment I was almost startled by how pretty she was.
Probably a former cheerleader.
She wore her fire-red hair in a top knot that could barely contain all the curls fighting to escape it. Older than me but only 20 if I had to guess, everyone else in her group was younger. She and five others all had weapons pointed at us and they looked organized, like a queen and her little worker bees scouting flowers. She subtly grinned, trying to look confident and unnerve me.
“Thanks for unloading our shipment. But we’ll take it from here.” She waved our group down from the truck-bed. The guys were mostly slack-jawed, obviously impressed with her. “Come down slowly and please don’t be stupid. I don’t want to get blood all over my food.”
“Hang on,” I stepped forward drawing her attention. “We found this. What makes you think you can just take it?”
“This gun pointed at your head.”
“She makes a good point, Sam. Let’s go,” Navin urged from behind me.
“I’d listen to your boyfriend, Sam. This is our stuff and we’re not leaving without it.”
I looked behind me to Navin and then to Mike. They were both shaking their heads, imploring me to behave. My trigger finger ticked up and down, annoyed it was so far away from my rifle, as if it were counting the seconds until it could go to work.
Karina sensed my hesitation because she stepped forward closing the distance between us until the barrel of her gun was resting on my forehead.
“You don’t look like following orders is something you’re used to doing so just so there’s no confusion here, Sam, you’re going to lose this one. Got it?” To hammer home her point, she traced a tiny circle on my forehead using barrel of her pistol.
The metal was cold against my skin and another chill ran through me. Dammit, normal people didn’t get excited about having guns shoved in their faces. I didn’t have a move that wouldn’t get me pummeled with all kinds of bullet holes so I ignored all my instincts and surrendered.
“Fine. You win.”
“Good. Now put that rifle down and go sit next to your friends.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Are you joking?” she laughed.
“No. I’ll go sit down. I’ll let you take this truck. But I’m not putting my gun down.”
“Dammit, Sam! Just do it!” Mike yelled from the sidelines. He and the others had been lined up and were sitting down on the concrete a few feet to my left.
“Do you have a death wish or something, little girl?”
“Most days, but not today.” My voice was steel.
She was wavering. She didn’t want to shoot me or anyone else. If she had she would’ve done it already. She’d shown her hand and we both knew it.
“Shit, kid. You always make everything this difficult?”
Navin raised his hand as if he were answering a question in class, “Yes. Yes, she does.”
She smiled a little and nodded to her people to grab the stuff from the truck. “Keep your gun. I don’t want it. But you should be careful with that mouth of yours. One day you’re going to cross someone who’s not as forgiving as I am.”
“Someone like me?”
“Yeah, maybe.” She held my stare and kept her gun trained on my head. “Go have a seat. We’ll be done in a minute. But if that rifle moves from your back, I won’t hesitate. Got it?” Her green eyes were hones
t, and I knew if I threatened her people she’d have to put me down. So, I nodded and joined my guys in submission purgatory on the pavement.
Mike was shooting me daggers.
“Captain Crazypants in full effect, ladies and gentlemen,” Navin whispered.
I feigned innocent. “What? I didn’t do anything.”
Someone on their team pulled a walkie-talkie from her pocket. She was covered in tattoos, including her face, and wore her hair in wild braids giving her the appearance of some sort of Viking warrior. “Karina Team One, target secure. Pull in now.”
A moment later a white van pulled into the lot and parked next to us. It was large, more like a miniature delivery truck. The team moved quickly and efficiently as they loaded up all the supplies in back while Karina kept her gun trained on us. On me.
“Karina Team One. Loaded and ready. Leaving now.”
Everyone jumped in the back of their van leaving the redhead standing over us. She smirked at me a little.
“Karina, let’s go!” one of the guys called from the back.
“Hang on!” she yelled. “So, what are you guys doing out here anyway?”
“Nothing. Just came for the food.”
“Uh-huh. Are you from here?” She eyed me like she knew the answer already.
“No,” Mike spoke up. “We came from Cincinnati, but we met up in—"
I nudged him with a glare. I didn’t really want this chick knowing anything about us.
“Cincinnati? Really. Any chance you made a stop in Freemont on your way here?” She looked us over as if she was trying to read our minds then suddenly turned and went to her van. She came back carrying a large box of food and then signaled one of her people to follow. “Grab them a jug too.”
“What are you doing?” I asked indignant. They’d held us at gunpoint, taken our stuff and now all of a sudden, she wanted to share?
“I think there’s someone you should meet. Someone that might be able to help you.”
“What makes you think we need help?”
“Because you almost got yourself shot over a few boxes of food, sweetie. And because I think you might be someone we’ve been looking for.”
