by Kitty Thomas
I followed him wearily down to the second floor to find that he’d picked wildflowers and lined the tables with them. Emergency candles were lit on the main table where the “king and queen” were supposed to sit.
“Cornish game hens?” I asked, looking at the small birds on the plates, surrounded by vegetables from a can. He must have been holding out on me with the frozen chicken nuggets.
“Actually, it’s a couple of the chickens. They were too small and fighting a lot, so I went ahead and slaughtered them.”
I shuddered. It must have been before today because when I’d been out by the kiddie rides, I hadn’t seen any smaller chickens running around.
He pulled out my chair for me and then disappeared into the kitchen. Music began to play over the sound system. It sounded like what you’d hear at a renaissance fair, but it was probably all that was available here. He returned a little while later with a bottle of wine. Where had that been stashed?
“The manager kept a few bottles in his office. We swore we wouldn’t open them except for special occasions.”
“And this is a special occasion?”
He shrugged. “Elodie, I don’t want to fight. I don’t know why this is so hard when you don’t even remember what we were fighting about.”
“What were we fighting about?”
“It’s not important.”
“No, I want to know. What were we fighting about?”
Trevor looked like he was scraping the bottom of the idea barrel for any convenient lie to feed me. “It’s not worth upsetting you.”
“Right, because why upset me when our life is so perfect and serene?”
He growled in frustration. “Fine. You asked for it. I got snipped because you kept miscarrying, and it was hurting you every time you lost a baby. So I got the snip so you wouldn’t have to keep going through that. We had a stupid argument about something not important that wound back around to that and how you thought I resented you or some other bullshit. As if we’d want a baby now in all this, anyway.”
I didn’t say anything. I just looked down at my plate and started eating.
***
Months passed in the abandoned theme park. It felt like a combination of camping and the aftermath of a zombie apocalypse. Things started to become normal somehow. I started to feel stronger. Whatever may have been wrong with me had seemed to clear up on its own with time. The romantic dinner that night had been a turning point of sorts. It didn’t do anything immediately to make me want to get closer to Trevor, but oddly, time did.
The isolation of no other human companionship quickly grew to be too much for me. Feeling or expressing anger or disdain toward him only left me by myself with no one to talk to or seek comfort or reassurance from. Without Trevor, I’d die out here. I didn’t think he was going to just up and abandon me, but there is a sort of clinging desperation that begins to take hold when your waking reality is only one other person in the world. It was like Trevor was the only other person still alive on the planet. It probably wasn’t true, but it felt true.
Suddenly that person begins to seem almost perfect—your soul mate—the only person you could possibly have ever ended up with even in a sea of billions to choose from. We didn’t have much real sexual chemistry—or at least there wasn’t any on my end. But he was comfortable, like a favorite pair of sneakers.
Little by little the off feeling about him started to dissipate, and I began to be convinced that it had only been due to confusion brought on by my fall and the shock of waking into the world as it now was.
His annoying traits receded into the background, and we actually started getting along. I could see glimpses of what I must have seen in him before the collapse. I could even see how we might have ended up together in wedded bliss, a bliss that had seemed unthinkable as even a minor feature of our past when I’d first opened my eyes inside the pirate ship.
The weather turned colder, and we brought our blankets and pillows to set up camp in the grand dining hall of the restaurant where we could use the fireplaces to keep warm at night. It didn’t get too incredibly cold, but it got cold enough to be uncomfortable without the added comfort of heat.
Trevor had decided it was safer than running the heating/AC unit year round. He wanted to give the unit a break, he’d said. Because if that thing broke down and he couldn’t fix it with what was on hand, we’d be fifteen levels of fucked when summer reached its zenith.
I never questioned why he seemed to do both the hunting and the cooking, as well as the cleaning up. I asked to help, but he’d push me away, as if he didn’t trust my involvement in the process. It created a sort of crushing boredom, and once I’d read all the books in the cabinet, the only thing left to do was fuck—something he seemed quite content with.
We’d begun to do it with the frequency of rabbits—mainly because it kept him happy—but without the procreative results.
Trevor came in loaded down with an armful of firewood and threw a few more logs on the fires. Both fireplaces were lit. They were located in the room such a way that we could set bedding up in the middle and have warmth seemingly from all sides.
“There. That should last us a while.”
He joined me on the blankets. We’d created a pillow fort with all the pillows, not only from the tower, but from the guest rooms on the floor below it as well. We’d taken the comforters off the beds so we could make a thick, plush mattress to lie on and cushion against the hard floor.
“Trevor?”
“Hmmm?”
“When will we move on? Look for more people, I mean?” I felt if I spent even one more day here, no matter how much I’d grown to care about him, that I’d lose my fucking mind.
His eyes narrowed, and I was sure the fight was about to start again. He seemed so insecure about the possibility of joining another group of survivors—as if I would only stay with him as long as he was my only option. As if I’d jump on the cock of the first new man who dropped his pants. I didn’t understand the depth of his insecurity. There was nothing physically repulsive about Trevor, and he had the one thing most random men out there wouldn’t have... built-in birth control. And given the new state of things, that made him the safest man in my world.
Plus there was the months he’d already taken care of me, fed me, kept me safe, kept me from going completely insane. He was dependable. I could count on him. I knew he would protect me from whatever hardships this barren wasteland of a world brought our way.
Though, if I couldn’t sustain a pregnancy, maybe birth control wasn’t a worry anyway—depending on how early the pregnancies ended. I’d never asked about that. The whole topic seemed like a very sore subject with him, and I didn’t want to rile him up. However either of us had once felt about it, not being able to have kids was a blessing now.
Whatever Trevor had planned or wanted to say, he stifled behind a grunt. Then he said, “We need to wait until it’s warmer. Not a good idea to leave now.”
I couldn’t argue with the sensibility of that. It wasn’t as if it dropped down into freezing arctic temperatures around here, but depending on traveling conditions, it might be difficult to cope with the cold at night.
Trevor’s expression shifted, and his gaze moved languidly over me. I was wrapped loosely in the blankets, wearing only his T-shirt. He pounced on me like a hungry jungle cat, his hands frantically roaming over me while his mouth sought the warm invitation of mine.
He nearly ripped the T-shirt in two as he jerked it over my head and arms, flinging the offending article of clothing far away.
He cupped my face, forcing my eyes to meet his, and asked, “Do you love me, Elodie?”
I still couldn’t remember him or anything else from before my fall, but if I were being honest, these long months alone with him... while it hadn’t brought back any of the old feelings I couldn’t remember, it had brought something new.
“I- I think I do.”
There was a loud clatter and a reverberating metal echo as something hit th
e ground outside the door. My eyes widened, mirroring his. Our movements stilled. For a moment our breath froze, then in concert it began to move so slowly and quietly in and out of our lungs it was almost painful. I didn’t have to ask. Trevor had forgotten to bring up the drawbridge.
I couldn’t believe I’d ever resented him doing that at night. It was for my protection—and his—while we slept.
Had some forest creature wandered in, looking for scraps of food and warmth? Or was it a survivor?
Something deep inside me hoped against everything that it was another survivor. Perhaps a group of them. I didn’t pause to consider whether such people might be good or bad, only that they were other humans who still existed in the world after months without knowing for sure.
A tall figure dressed in all black filled the doorway. I pulled the sheet up, gripping it tight against my chest. Trevor stood smoothly and moved in front of me. He hadn’t managed to fully undress yet. His pants were still on.
He pulled the small handgun out of his pocket. The other man reacted immediately, drawing his own gun so fast it nearly gave me whiplash to watch it unfold. It was a smooth, practiced move. This guy had training. And I wasn’t convinced Trevor did.
“Please, just leave us alone,” I pleaded.
The stranger didn’t even look at me. His eyes were trained on Trevor’s as if he could see inside his head to know his next move. Maybe his next several moves.
Trevor wasn’t backing down. He racked the slide, but before he could get a shot off, the other man fired several into his stomach.
“No!” I dragged the sheet and scrambled to Trevor’s side as he dropped, clutching at him as if to keep his guts from spilling out. I pressed the linen against his wounds, but there was too much blood coming out of him far too quickly. He stared up at me a moment in disbelief, and then his eyes went blank and dead while my tears dripped onto his face.
“Trevor! No! Stay with me, don’t go.” My hand trembled as I felt for a pulse. There was nothing. Still, I pressed the sheet against his stomach, as if he might come back to life somehow if I could only stop the bleeding.
“He’s gone,” the man said.
I tried not to think about the fact that I was alone in this castle with the terrifying stranger who’d just shot and killed my husband. My tears fell harder as I wrapped myself in the firm denial that any of this was happening. Maybe he still had a pulse... I just hadn’t found the vein. Maybe... maybe...
In a fairy tale, this would be the part where magic and light would swirl around him and he’d get up, revived by the true love and magic that somehow inexplicably existed in my tears. And we’d live happily ever after as the castle sprang to life again. All the kudzu would recede, the graffiti would vanish, and life as I was sure I’d once known it would come rushing back in beautiful full bloom.
But this was a fake fairy tale castle, and my tears weren’t magic.
I grabbed Trevor’s gun with shaking hands and pointed it up at the stranger from my position on the ground. It felt so foreign to me that even without my memories I was sure this was the first time I’d ever held a gun.
“Do you want to die with your lover?” the stranger asked.
Maybe I did. I couldn’t see a reason to go on now after another thing had been taken from me. The world. My memory. My husband and only protector. I’d thought perhaps the stranger might be reluctant to shoot me, but staring into ice blue eyes, I knew he’d pull the trigger without hesitation. And I knew if Trevor hadn’t been able to shoot first, my odds were even slimmer.
“Put the gun on the ground and slide it over to me,” he said.
“Please don’t hurt me.” My hands shook so hard, even thinking about aiming properly was pointless.
“Put the gun on the ground and slide it over to me,” he repeated. His voice remained steady and calm.
I was sure he would shoot me if I didn’t, and I was equally sure I didn’t have the resolve to shoot him. And if I shot him, I had no hope of survival. That was it. I was done. I didn’t know if I had any hope anyway, but I knew I couldn’t survive in the world as it now was without someone to help me—ideally a strong male someone. This man and whoever might be traveling with him were my only chance.
I couldn’t believe I might have to try to beg and bargain with a complete stranger who’d just killed the only person I could count on. I was struck with the notion that not only did I have to find a way to keep this man from outright killing me, I had to find a way to get him to let me come with him, even if it was the last thing I wanted. I was sure he was strong enough to protect me and help me survive out here. If he wouldn’t take me with him, it would be more merciful for him to just go ahead and shoot me, considering the impossibility of the challenges that lay before me without Trevor.
I couldn’t even grieve. I had to figure out how to keep going. And I wasn’t even sure I wanted to.
I laid the gun down and slid it over. The man stopped it with his boot.
A walkie talkie crackled on. “Shannon. Are you all right? We thought we heard gunfire.”
He took the gun from the ground, dropped the magazine and ejected a bullet from the top of Trevor’s gun, and put the weapon in his pocket. Then he holstered his own gun. His hands were far too steady after killing a man for my comfort. He raised a finger slowly to his lips to indicate that I must remain quiet. I didn’t know what else to do but stifle my crying because I wasn’t sure what the others with him were capable of or what he might do to me before they got here if I didn’t comply.
Shannon pressed a button on a black plastic device on his shoulder. “Yeah. I’m okay. It was just a wolf. Don’t come into the castle unless I call for backup; there could be others. I’m going to check it out.”
“Roger that. We’ll stay clear. Check in every ten minutes so we know you’re safe.”
“Will do.”
I wrapped the blood-drenched blankets around myself more tightly, struggled to my feet, and got as far back from him as I could. His body still blocked the only easily reachable exit in the room. The fire exits were even farther away, and I didn’t think I had much of a chance of getting to them—definitely not while I felt like I was dropping into shock. And he had a gun he’d already shown he was comfortable using on living flesh.
“W-why didn’t you tell them I was here?”
“I need to assess the situation first,” he said, as if this were some kind of normal response. He eased closer to me, slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal in the forest. “Are you okay?” he asked.
Not the question I’d expected, particularly after our brief standoff. But then, I was a stranger who’d pointed a gun at him—just like Trevor had.
“Of course I’m not okay!” I shouted. “You killed my husband! You fucking savage. The world is gone, and now he’s gone.”
Immediately, I regretted this outburst. It was so hard to remember I had to appease this person, or I was dead whether he directly killed me or not.
I started to pace. I’d just settled into the new normal. I’d just started to feel like maybe my life wasn’t going to be a never-ending nightmare of bare survival. And this man had to come along and murder my husband.
I was sure Trevor wouldn’t have shot him. It was just to scare him and make him go away and leave us alone. Obviously, a stranger coming in on his naked wife was a threat he had to address. He had to make sure the man didn’t get any ideas in his head. If the other guy had a weapon—which clearly he did—Trevor had to draw first. He had to try to gain the upper hand to protect me.
“What do you mean the world is gone?” Shannon asked. His voice had dropped low and gentle as if he were speaking to a feral cat instead of a person.
I stopped pacing. “What do you mean what do I mean? Weren’t you there, too? Aren’t you a survivor?”
“A survivor of what? I’m an urban explorer. My friends and I like to check out abandoned theme parks. That man I shot... he was all over the news for months, and so was you
r picture. Missing doctor. Missing patient. No leads. No family came forward to claim you. It was assumed he kidnapped you. I wouldn’t have had to shoot him if he hadn’t been about to shoot me. I saw it in his eyes. He wanted me dead, no doubt to keep whatever this is, going.” He waved a hand around the room on the word this.
“W-what? I-I don’t understand. What about the solar flares?”
“What solar flares?”
It was like we were speaking two different languages with no translation available between us.
“What do you remember?” he asked finally.
“N-nothing. I had an accident. I-I don’t know who I am.” I felt so stupid saying that out loud, like it was a failure of my intelligence or the educational system instead of a legitimate medical issue that wasn’t my fault.
My head throbbed as I tried to put together what I’d thought was true against what now seemed to be actually true. Shannon’s clothes weren’t worn or old like someone who’d survived something awful and was wearing the same two or three outfits for months or years. They were new and nice. There was a bit of mud on his boots, but he’d said he was an urban explorer. This was something he did for fun. If he wasn’t aware of solar flares, they hadn’t happened, and the world was still out there.
Oh, God. The world was still out there. All this time I’d been here with some psycho who’d taken me from the hospital... trying to cope with the new normal, and it wasn’t normal at all. Possibly just a few miles away, life as everyone had known it had been humming along without a hitch. Just-in-time delivery... still there. Electricity, running water... it was all... still there.
“I-is my name even Elodie?”
Shannon eased still closer to me. “I don’t remember. The news stopped running the pictures and story a few months ago. There were some big school shootings, and the news cycle moved on. There were no new leads on your story, I guess, so they never picked it back up.”
A sinking dread started to form a knot in the pit of my stomach. “He wasn’t my husband.” Of course he wasn’t my husband. Trevor had lied. About everything.
