Black Box 86ed

by Kjelland, Andrew

  “Wait, wait, I yell don’t we don’t know what’s waiting for us out there, for all we know there a drone or a military unit out there waiting for us to pop out heads out.”

  She pauses for a moment then shuts the door. “Here let me look at that hand then.”

  Holding out my hand a three inch piece of the windshield protrudes out.

  “Jesus, Will why do you keep getting hurt”?

  I shrug in reply.

  “Here sit down, I’ll be right back.” She runs into another room, immediately followed by the sound of her frantically rummaging through the drawers and cabinets. I look back out the window for any sign of Roger or Over. She comes back with a towel and some duct tape.

  “Her let me see it.” Taking my hand she Fingers the glass.

  “Sshshhhsh,” I gasp trying to suppress the worlds’ longest string of fuck yous and God dam its.

  “Sorry, sorry this might hurt but it needs to come out.”

  “Just! Just yank it out,” I yell at her.

  “Ok, Ok!” she grabs the glass immediately yanking it out, my palm almost filling with blood. Wrapping the bandage around my hand putting an almost unbearable amount of pressure on it.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I know this hurts,” she sympathizes.

  “It’s fine,” I lie.

  “Any sign of Roger or Over?”

  I look out the window, the rain streaming down the glass so thick I can barely even see the van. “Nope,” I reply shaking my head.

  “Where could they have gone?”

  “I don’t know it’s hard to see maybe they went to a different house?”

  “You don’t think… I mean what if they ran into military or what if whatever almost got us finished them?”

  “I don’t know, I’m sure they made it to a different house, I’m sure they are just fine.” Grace stairs out the window, her face worried.

  Wind whipping through the old house; nearly drown out by the force of hail and rain pelting the windows. A sudden muffle voice floats over the air.

  “Wait, wait, you hear that?” I ask.

  A short pause of nothing but wind and hail then the sound once more.

  “What, is that?” Grace asks.

  “O dam it!” I yell in surprise, realizing the walkie talkie from the sky scraper still in my pocket. I pull it out of my pocket Over’s voice coming over the speaker.

  “Hey, hey! Will! Grace! You guys alright? God dam it they ain’t answering.”

  “You gotta let go the fucking button ya stupid son of a…”

  “Ya, ya what about you?” I reply.

  “Ya where fine, god dam was worried sick about you, where the hell you guys go?”

  “Thought we were following you guys but musta lost you, we ran into a house with kind of an, ahh roundabout.”

  “Not a fucking round about, it’s just a sharp corner,” Roger yells in the background.

  “See we’re on the corner but it’s a very steep angle.

  “I don’t know where that is.”

  “It was the house closes to the car on what would have been the driver’s side.”

  “Ok, we just went to different houses should be right across the street from you guys.”

  “Want us to run over there”?

  I look to Grace, her expression hesitant.

  “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. We don’t know what the hell happened out there maybe we should wait a bit to see if things calm down.”

  “OK, it’s letting up a bit. Go to the window we’re trying to see what house you may have gone in.”

  I stand up next to the window, look out to the street, ok I can see the house you guys are in we’re just across the street.

  “We’ll let the storm settle, maybe wait till it’s dark and take it from there. You guys gona be alright, how’s the hand?”

  “Hand’s been taken care of and that sounds like a plan.”

  CHAPTER...

  The rain slowly letting up albeit, it’s now completely dark outside. Not even the street lights are on.

  “Should we radio them?” Grace asks as she peers out the window. “We haven’t even seen anyone.”

  “I’ll see if they pick up.”

  “Roger, Roger you there, over?”

  “What the hell are you saying? Not making any sense.”

  “Jesus your names make this confusing as hell.” I laugh back to them over the walkie talkie.

  “We were just about to phone you guys, think it’s a good time to take off?” Just sprinkling now and we could jam a screw driver into one of these cars in the garage here.”

  “How’s that sound Grace, think we’re good to go?” I ask her. She stands frozen in the window. “Grace?”

  “What do you think those lights are?” She asks peering through the glass.

  “What?” I ask getting up and walking to the next window.

  Lights, little distant specs of light float, distantly in the sky.

  “Helicopters?” She half whispers to herself.

  “We’ll meet you guys in the back yard of your house, sound good?” Roger asks over the walkie talkie.

  “Hey, hey hold on a second Roger you need to go look out one of the western windows.”

  “What, what the hell is happening now?”

  “I can’t tell, maybe nothing but it sure looks like something.”

  Tremors soft and building slowly fill the air, taking over the house. The floor begins to shake softly as a dull quiet whipping sound turns into a great roar as a, well what looks like a Blackhawk helicopter careens straight down the street.

  “Shit,” I hear Roger exclaim over the walkie talkie. The rumbling that proceeded the helicopter gets stronger. Like that scene in Jurassic park where the T Rex is about to show up and what’s his names can tell because the water in a glass is shaking.

  Suddenly what looks to be dozens of helicopters swarm over the entire city.

  “What the hell is going on?” Roger yells.

  “Hell if I know, maybe they are seeing if any of the rebels tried sneaking in while the storm was raging? They probably couldn’t use their satellites or drones or whatever the fuck they’ve been doing.”

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I hear Over yelling in the background. “There is no way we would make it two blocks with all of this going on.”

  “Should we wait a few hours? Just wait for it to settle, maybe they’ll find what they’re looking for?” I ask.

  “I really can’t argue with that, how about you kids try an get some sleep if you can. Over an me will keep a lookout tonight and have you drive when it looks safe.”

  “That sounds like a good idea.”

  CHAPTER...

  An hour goes by, the scene nearly unchanged as helicopters case up and down each block. Grace resting her head on my arm that fell asleep twenty minutes ago but I don’t dare move it.

  “So, when did you want to ride the Ferris wheel?” I ask.

  “O, I’m in no hurry, preferably when we won’t have to take guns with us.” Her response a little more bitter than I was hoping for. “Do you think they’re alright? My parents are they going to be ok?”

  “O I’m sure they’re fine, I doubt anyone is interested in taking over a retirement home.”

  “Ya but… I look around and Jesus the whole city of Chicago is a total mess. Would they still have people helping out? Ya know, like would the government take care of them or did they just get abandoned?”

  “Ah, I mean your parents aren’t exactly helpless”.

  “Ya… But they can’t exactly uhh, survive in the wild ya know. God my dad complains about having to bend over to get the paper in the morning.”

  “I’m sure they are just fine Grace, and ya know this time tomorrow we’ll probably be halfway to them.”

  “You think so? I mean really think so?”

  “Why don’t you?”

  “We just
flipped our way out of Chicago”

  “We’ll get a new one.”

  “And then drive to Florida? We have no money, at least I don’t.”

  “We’ll steal some, it’s not like people are going to stop us, here.” I stand taking her hand I pull her to her feet and head upstairs. The white and brown carpeted steps giving an ever crescendoing series of creaks under my feet.

  “Do you really think they left anything valuable? They probably took everything when they evacuated.”

  “Maybe, maybe not, there might be cash, or weed, or rubies.”

  “Rubies?” She laughs back.

  “Hey you never know, who’s gona turn down a fistful of rubies for just a tank of gas.”

  “That is some solid logic.” She replies rolling her eyes.

  Walking to what must be the master bed room, a large window looking out over the street. The mini old folks home on its side with a black looking soot around the front left wheel well surrounding the jagged remains of what use to be the tire.

  Grace rummaging through a dresser, tossing what looks to be an ugly winter sweater and knee high socks. “Well it’s defiantly some old peoples house.” Grace exhales, finishing going through the dresser and joins me in staring out the window. The glow of spot lights accompanied by the soft yet ever present hum of helicopter blades.

  “Dam we really did hit something.”

  I nod as I fish my cigarettes out of my pocket, the deed to my house floats to the floor.

  “You’re still carrying that around?”

  “Ha.... maybe.” I turn sitting on the bed.

  “I thought you already took that to the realtors office?”

  “Ah ya I just kinda got side tracked I guess.”

  She sits then slides closer to me. “You don’t want to sell it do you?”

  “I… it’s not like I’m not over… I’ve just gotten so tired of thinking about it. Sometimes it feels like I want them to kick me out. That I need them to kick me out. For some God only knows reason I just can’t get myself to do it…” I pause waiting for a reaction but she just sits, silent, staring through dark blue eyes with the expression that I would of swore people reserved for someone… more. The kind when they’ve allowed you to capture their attention. Where every electrical impulse flowing under their skin syncs on to you, only you. The almost shock from their eyes as you are truly taken in.

  “It just feels like once the house is gone, it’s over that whole, part of my life is gone.”

  “O I don’t believe that,” she cuts in. “Not that I’m saying you’re wrong not even close but to say just some walls and a roof signify what you and your parents had, it’s not completely right, ya know? You will always carry them with you. And can I just say their influence has made you a truly amazing person. I’m so happy every time you even look at me Will. And if you didn’t have the life, the upbringing your parents gave you, you wouldn’t be the man I’ve been proud to call my best friend.”

  Her hand grazing mine as I lay back. Swinging her legs back awkwardly she stares at a noticeable crack in the ceiling. Finally deciding to lay back next to me, her hand holding her head. Turning her attention to me and squintingly looks to me.

  “What?” I ask

  And then it happens. She kisses me. She leans over without so much as a warning taking every thought from my head with it. “Ahh,”

  A soft snort at my obvious surprise followed by a smile and… She turns quickly, straddling me.

  “Are, are you sure about…”

  “I think it would be remiss of me to not take both our minds off our lives right now.” She laughs.

  God what does that mean? Is this… I do not complete this though as her shirt comes off and descends to the floor, immediately pressing her full weight into me as she leans down.

  Rolling to where I’m on top now, nearly ripping my shirt as I take it off. Kissing her grazing my tongue against hers. It doesn’t matter, regardless if the is just sex it is a step in the right direction. Our direction.

  She awkwardly fiddles with her bra, unlatching then immediately grabbing my face as she holds my lips to hers.

  “I’ll let you do the honors,” she laughs.

  Laying into her, trying my hardest to balance my weight between my elbows and her hips, I slowly take off her bra. Trying to keep every electrical impulse flowing through my head from culminating into the most glorious heart attack.

  Looking down to her nip… to her… ah, they’re... aaahh, they’re ok. They’re small... not very defined, but they’re nice. They’re fine; they’re fine as long as they’re mine.

  “Wait... wait, wait, what was that?” She whispers into my ear.

  “I didn’t hear anything.”

  A soft creak resonates from the main floor, followed by a hushed voice. Reaching over the bed I grab the walkie talkie. “Roger you guys here?” I whisper but get no response.

  “Is it them?” Grace asks.

  Another hushed voice radiates clearly through the air vent next to the bed. Leaning over the side I press my ear to it.

  “You take the top, I’ll take the basement, they probably moved on anyways.” One of them says. The other replies but I’m unable to understand what he says.

  “One is coming up here,” I whisper to Grace

  “O God, what do we do!” she pleads.

  “Hide. Get in the closet.”

  Grabbing what clothes she can I open the closet door handing her a gun as she rushing inside. Immediately I’m hit by a light from my left.

  A police officer stares at me down the sight of his pistol, looking half surprised half scared.

  “Don’t do anything foolish son.” I just need to see your star and we can get you to a safe place.”

  I slowly shut the door on Grace he eyes pleading through the dark as I close her in. “What, to a FEMA camp? Or worse?” I ask gripping the handle of my gun tighter holding it to my thigh.

  “Son there is no need to escalate this we can take you in. Everyone knows this will all blow over.”

  “I know what goes on there. I’m just as safe out here as I am in there.” My hand shakes as a helicopter flies over its spot light illuminating the room for an instant.

  “Well if you ask me son you have three options. Surrender and take you chance in the camps, run and I’ll have to shoot you in the back, or I suppose you can always kill me. But you don’t look like the murdering type. Plus I don’t think you’ll get far and when you get caught with my blood on your hands you’re not gona get the softest mattress. Now I would appreciate if you would make my job a little easier for m…”

  A shot rings out catching the end of his sentence in the middle of his throat. Then immediately another his head caving as he falls to the ground. I spin to face where the shot came from ready to fire back when I see Grace standing there, tears streaming down her face with arms shaking as she holds the gun I gave her. Running to her she collapses in my arms.

  “You did what you had to. Don’t think of it any other way.”

  Limp and trembling, “I shouldn’t of…” she whispers.

  “We have to go now he was not alone and he probably heard that shot we’ll meet up with Roger and Over.”

  Grabbing her hand we walk to the top of the steps, looking down into the pitch-black stairway.

  “I need you to be really strong for me ok?”

  She just stares, “those boxes...” Static springs out form the cop’s radio.

  “George, George you ok? George you there?” Footsteps rising from the basement.

  “George you there?” A sudden flash of light hitting the bottom of the stair case. I duck back into the room. We freeze behind the doorframe. Silence fills the house, only the distant sound of helicopters.

  “George you there?” I look to Grace putting a finger to my lips. Her eyes glazed, almost as if she’s left herself. I kneel next to the policeman. At least what’s left of the poor man, ly
ing in a sizable pool of blood. Almost unrecognizable his head mostly inside out like a pair of jeans you try to take off with your shoes still on. God please forgive me, I pray as I pick the man up. Finally getting a complete understanding of dead weight I lift. His frame seems smaller now I think as I try to simultaneously hold him on his feet and not let his blood ruin my shoes. Leaning him on the doorframe his most fatal wounds facing me. A light flashes and this time stays at the bottom of the stairs.

  “George, George are you alright” I hear his partner whisper. Taking to the first step on the stairway. My heart and head freeze. My God please God please let this work. His light traveling up the stair hitting George’s back. “Hey, what the hell are you doing?” The cop asks as he hits the second step pausing slightly. His light tight on George’s back. Holding by his waste and shirt collar, I curl my fingers as far into my palms as possible, trying to avoid the light.

  His partner continues traveling up the stairs. “George?” He asks once more resting on the fifth step. I release, letting what’s left of George’s former home wean backwards, the abstract pottery that was once his head hitting the opposite wall with a mushed thud. Turning the corner firing directly into the flashlight, my hand going numb as the third round exits the barrel. I pull the trigger until there is nothing but a soft click.

  Silence, sweet, sweet silence. I turn to the stairs; the now red light shines across the fifth step showing a dead man. I exhale, melting my insides. We had to. God, do you believe me? Can I be forgiven? I had to. I… You made me. You could have stopped this. You should have. Why in the hell… How the fuck, do you let this happen. If you think you can judge… I didn’t want to, I didn’t need to for me. I… I did this for her. I look down to Grace her head buried in her hands. If you’re as all knowing as I’ve been told you cannot hold this against me, not when you’ve given me a life to protect.

  Sitting down next to Grace. “Hey, hey we need to go. We just have to go. I know this is hard and really fucked up, but we have to go.”

  I stare into her eyes almost able to see the tumor of pain and confusion growing behind them. Standing I pull her off the ground. She leans against the wall as I wrap my arms around her keeping her on her feet.