by William Oday
“We will survive, my daughter. Our family has survived times as dark as these. We have endured events even darker. And yet, we are here.”
“And why are we here, father? If we are all going to die anyway, I would’ve rather not moved and died with my friends.”
Ahmed grabbed her by the shoulders and held her tight. “Look at me.”
She slowly looked up to meet his gaze.
“We will not die,” he said. “I never want to hear you say that again. It would break your mother’s heart.”
He kissed her forehead and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. He led her to a chair next to the wooden chest and sat her down. “You must eat. You need your strength.”
She glanced at the plate and looked up. “Where is your lunch, father?”
“I’ve already had my share. Don’t you worry about me.”
The look she gave him spoke clearer than words that she knew he was lying. He’d been skipping meals for days to ensure that she had sufficient food. The decreased daily intake was already starting to show on his thin frame. He forced a sad laugh. Not that he forced it to be sad, but it came out that way. “It’s my beard making me look skinny. It needs a good trimming.”
She dropped her eyes to her lunch and took a bite of the bread.
A noise from outside startled him. He hurried to the window and parted the curtains a sliver. The neighbor, Mason West, had leaned a ladder up against his perimeter wall and was now peeking over it into the empty courtyard below. There was a man he could ask for help. For Noor’s sake, he should ask this man for food and water.
But how could he request assistance from the man that had killed his wife?
29
His neighbor scanned the courtyard and then the house. Ahmed jumped as the man’s eyes swept across the window. He flung the crowbar in his hand into the courtyard below, and then swung his leg over and lowered himself to the ground. The cretin meant to break into his house?
Ahmed hurried to the bedside table and pulled an old Beretta M 1951 out of the drawer. He’d acquired the old workhorse on the black market many years ago. He wouldn’t claim to be an expert in using it because he wasn’t. But he knew enough to make a bullet go where he wanted it to. He hurried to the window and peeked through the curtain again as Mason crossed the courtyard below and walked up to the front door.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
How thoughtful. He was a courteous looter.
“Father, who is that?” Noor asked.
“Get in the closet and stay quiet,” he whispered.
“Should we answer it? Maybe it’s someone who can help.”
“Go! Do it now!” he hissed as he helped her up and pushed her toward the walk-in closet.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
Ahmed hurried out of the room and closed the door behind him. As he made his way down the staircase, he heard the front door squeak, crack, and then pop open. He reached the bottom and circled around into the kitchen.
“Hello?” Mason said.
Ahmed ducked down behind the wide island in the middle of the kitchen.
“Is anyone home?”
Someone was definitely home, but Ahmed had no intention of giving away the element of surprise.
He heard the shuffling of feet grow louder as the intruder approached the kitchen. Ahmed pressed his back into the side of the island and held the Beretta close to his chest with both hands. He strained his neck looking up and to each side. He’d put a bullet in Mason’s head the moment it appeared.
The footsteps got louder, so close they had to be in the kitchen.
CLANG.
The abrupt noise almost caused Ahmed to cry out.
Mason must’ve set the crowbar on the granite island countertop. Something lighter clinked on the surface and, with a flash of terror, Ahmed realized that he’d left out all the evidence of the lunch he’d just made.
“Hello? I’m your neighbor, Mason West. I just came over to check on you. We have food and water next door if you need any.”
The open can of hummus clinked as Mason set it down. Footsteps receded back to the foyer toward the living room. “Hello?”
Ahmed carefully got to his feet so as not to make a sound. He tiptoed over and stopped at the corner, listening intently.
Footsteps started up the staircase.
With a start, Ahmed realized Mason was headed upstairs to where his daughter was hidden. He crept around the corner and followed up as quietly as he could.
“You can come out,” Mason said. “I’m not here to hurt you. We have food and water and medical supplies. If you’re injured, we can help you.”
Ahmed waited halfway up the stairs, his eyeline just below the highest stair, watching Mason creep down the hall. He could shoot him in the back right now. Shoot him dead and finally avenge his wife’s murder. He could do it. He should do it.
Mason turned into Noor’s bedroom on the left, across the hall from the master bedroom. Ahmed shook with rage thinking about how the intruder was violating his daughter’s personal space.
Damn him to hell!
He regretted the blasphemy the instant his mind spoke it. But why should he worry about such trifles? Wasn’t killing a man the greater sin? But was it sinful to right the wrong that had ruined his life? Was it sinful to mete out justice to a criminal who deserved it?
However Allah might weigh his actions, he still regretted the foul language. It achieved nothing but blemishing the soul.
Mason reappeared in the hallway and Ahmed ducked just in time to avoid being seen as the intruder looked in his direction.
Ahmed peeked back up as Mason disappeared into the master bedroom. He cursed himself for letting the murderer get that far, that close to his daughter. Ahmed crept up the last few stairs and tiptoed to the doorway of his bedroom. He peeked around the corner and saw Mason staring at the saucer with a half-eaten sandwich lying on the wooden chest.
“I can see that you’re here. There’s no reason to be afraid. You can come out.”
A squeak from inside the closet got Mason’s attention. With the murderer’s back to him, Ahmed slunk into the room and aimed the gun dead center at his back.
Mason reached for the closet door handle to open it.
“Stop!” Ahmed shouted.
30
The condemned man froze and then slowly turned. Ahmed noticed his right hand going down to a pistol tucked into his waistband.
Ahmed thumbed the hammer back and it clicked into place. One pull on the trigger and it would slam forward, firing a bullet into Mason’s chest.
Mason threw his hands up into the air. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy there.”
“Shut up!”
“You don’t want to do that.”
“You don’t know what I want!”
Ahmed’s heart pounded in his fingertips, especially in the one curled around the cold metal trigger. His mind screamed at him to do it. Just pull the trigger and bring closure to the horror that had ruled his life for so long.
Mason slowly shook his head. “You don’t want to kill an innocent man.”
“You?” Ahmed spat out. “You are no innocent man!”
“You mean breaking in? I only did that because no one answered.”
“And so hearing no one you decided to break into my house and steal whatever you could!”
“Listen, I’ll be honest with you. If there had been supplies in this house and no one around that needed them, then sure. I would’ve gathered them up for my family. But you’re here. Alive. We can help each other. We’ve got food and water next door.” He glanced at the sad excuse for a sandwich. “And it looks like you could use some help in that department.”
“We need no help from you!”
Ahmed’s blood boiled. How could this fiend be so calm when he faced his immediate execution?
The closet door burst open and Noor tumbled out. “That’s not true! We do need help! Father? What are you doing?”
“Get back in the closet!”
Ahmed braced his shoulders and arms to accept the recoil of the gun. This man had to die.
Instead of retreating to safety, Noor stepped closer to Mason. “Father, we must accept his help!”
“Back away, Noor!”
“I will not, father! Do you want us to die? Do you want me to die? Because without this man’s help, we have no chance. If you kill him, you are killing me.”
The truth in her words crumbled his wavering resolve. His chest caved in and he curled into the empty husk that his body had become. He lowered the pistol’s aim to the floor and eased the hammer forward. He had failed his wife. He had failed himself and the pledge he’d made so long ago.
He broke into tears as the shame and disgust washed over him. Noor was right. As much as this man deserved to die, they needed his help even more.
For now.
They would not need him forever. And the closer Ahmed got to the unsuspecting villain, the easier it would be to eventually exact vengeance upon him.
“I’m sorry,” Ahmed said. “I feared for my daughter’s safety.”
“Totally understandable. I have a daughter of my own. But if it’s all the same to you, let’s make sure you keep that Beretta pointed in a safe direction from now on, okay?”
“Yes, I understand.”
Mason extended a hand in greeting. “I know you guys have been here for a few months but we’ve never actually had the opportunity for introductions. My name is Mason West. I’m your neighbor.”
Ahmed shook his hand while trying to hide his disgust. “It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Ahmed Hassad and this is my daughter, Noor.”
“It’s great to meet both of you. I meant what I said. We have loads of supplies next door and would be happy to share them.”
Ahmed smiled and it wasn’t completely forced. Knowing his daughter would have access to continued sustenance filled his heart with joy. “We very much appreciate that.”
“I’m happy we can help. What we don’t have next door is a defensible position.”
“What?”
“What I mean to say is that I think we should combine forces and we’ll both be stronger for it.”
Ahmed didn’t quite understand what the man was getting at. “What do you mean?”
“Your house has many defensive advantages that mine does not. I propose we move everyone in my house along with all our supplies into your house.”
Ahmed’s jaw dropped. He certainly hadn’t been expecting the intruder to invite himself to stay.
“I know it sounds a little weird, but the times we’re living in are weirder yet. If we band together, our families have a better chance of surviving.”
Ahmed looked at Noor, at the pleading look on her face, and could find no counterargument of equal weighting. He nodded. “Yes, you are correct. How should we proceed?”
Mason slapped him on the shoulder like they were old friends. Nothing could’ve been further from the truth. “Fantastic. I’ll go tell everyone next door. After introductions all around, you and I can set to fortifying this structure while everyone else brings our supplies over. Oh yeah, make sure to skip the second porch step on your way in.”
Ahmed nodded. He would cooperate for now. For as long as the safety of his daughter required it.
But not forever.
31
BETH blew through dead stoplights heading east on Exposition Blvd. She’d splashed through a few unavoidable puddles making her way through Ballona Creek. Her soaked right sock leached the heat out of her foot, leaving it tingling toward numb. She considered stripping the sock off so her foot could dry, but she didn’t relish the idea of bare skin getting hit by gravel or other road debris.
And there was a lot of debris.
Passage through Ballona Creek had been uneventful otherwise. She’d ridden it to the end and then made it a couple of miles on surface streets with no major problems. Assuming her frozen foot didn’t turn into a major problem.
Exposition Park was a few blocks ahead on the right. She used to take Theresa to the Natural History Museum there when she was younger. Much younger. Back when petting a Desert Tortoise would be the unchallenged highlight of her daughter’s day. She’d grown up so fast.
Too fast.
And now she would grow older in a world made almost unrecognizable. One that no longer had the reassuring comforts and security that most people assumed was a God-given right. They weren’t.
Society and all of its comfortable illusions were now swept away.
Theresa would be forced to survive in a way that mankind hadn’t endured for hundreds of years. Maybe thousands. The descent hadn’t been easy already and there was no reason to expect it would get any better. And so it was up to Beth and Mason to protect her and do everything possible to give her a fighting chance.
Beth would die, if necessary, to ensure she had the best chance possible. Retrieving antibiotics was one such necessary task.
If she did survive this task, she knew others just like it would arise in the future. Each and every one as essential, and potentially deadly, to their survival as the last. That was the cruel irony of the survival situation. The tasks were like tests and mother nature didn’t grade on a curve. She gave only two grades: passing and failing. And it didn’t matter how many times you passed, a single failing grade meant death.
Her own death didn’t bother her overly much. But Mason losing his wife and, worse, Theresa losing her mother… she couldn’t bear the thought of their suffering.
No.
She’d make it back. This time and the next. She’d survive anything and everything thrown at her so that her family would remain whole.
Would remain unbroken.
She approached another intersection with traffic lights just as dark and unnecessary as all the others. Here in the city, the rumble of Spock’s engine bounced off houses and storefronts and generally made her anxious to get back down into the LA River where the sound could bounce harmlessly around with no one to hear it.
Not that she’d seen a single living human being, of whatever kind, yet. Aside from that pack of dogs, she’d run into no other threats. Hopefully, her luck would hold all the way to the zoo.
Out of habit, she glanced left and right as she approached the intersection. To the left, nothing unusual. Someday that phrase would make sense again. To the right, nothing—
A bright red Hummer H3 shot into the intersection to block her path.
She swerved to the left and managed to zip around it and keep going.
A loudspeaker squawked. “Hold up, honey! We want to help you! Slow down now!”
The Hummer’s engine roared and tires squealed as it raced to catch up.
Good luck with that.
A metal fence ran along the left side of the road separating it from commuter train tracks. A fence on the other side secured an enormous parking lot. She was boxed in but fine because the Hummer was never going to catch up. She whizzed through another intersection and a part of her brain registered the dark metal statues on the corner of the Tyrannosaurus attacking the Triceratops, a fleshed out version of the larger skeleton one that occupied the main hall inside the museum.
A big black Jeep appeared in the intersection a hundred feet ahead. With fences on both sides and the Hummer behind, there was no obvious escape.
She slammed on the brakes and squealed to a stop, barely managing to keep her bike upright. She glanced back and saw the Hummer closing in fast.
The passenger door of the Jeep opened and a man stepped out carrying some kind of scoped rifle. He didn’t point it at her, but he held it in both hands at the ready. “Hey darlin’, shut your bike off and let’s chat for a minute. Heck, it’s a pleasure just getting to speak to a member of the fairer sex.”
The loudspeaker boomed from behind her. “Baby, we just want to talk. It’s dangerous out here and we want to make sure you’re safe.” The Hummer’s tires chirped as it skidded to a stop twenty feet behind her.
Beth consid
ered drawing the Glock at her hip, but she wasn’t Mason and she had no doubt the man with the rifle would get the better of the exchange. So she kept her helmet down and scanned left and right looking for an escape path.
The man with the rifle raised it and aimed the long barrel at her. “Now don’t go getting any crazy ideas. We don’t want you to get hurt. Shut the bike off and step away from it. This is for your own safety. You have no idea how dangerous it is out here.”
She definitely had an idea of what was out there and as bad as it could be, it was no worse than the vibe she got from these creepy jerks. The fence line on the right opened for the entrance to the Natural History Museum. She didn’t want to get trapped inside the fenced grounds but she didn’t have a better choice. She had to go for it. The rifle guy would probably shoot her down but there were worse fates for a captured woman.
Beth cranked the throttle and Spock’s front tire lifted as the torque jerked her body forward. She popped up the curb and entered the museum’s grounds.
Doors slammed behind her. “Go! Go! Go! We’ve got her now!”
32
She raced through the entrance and scanned left and right. How was she going to lose them in the multilevel terraced grounds? Her bike would quickly get mired down in the mulch and bushes whereas both of their vehicles would tear right through it. She glanced at the giant glass cube that was the entrance to the building on the north side. Looters had clearly paid a visit. The glass doors were missing. The evidence of their existence lay in the scattered shards around the gaping entrance. Whole sheets of glass in the surrounding windows were busted out like someone went crazy with a bag of rocks, or maybe bullets.
Light spilled into the interior through the remaining glass, or lack thereof. The interior darkened further in. Their vehicles might make it through the entrance but they definitely wouldn’t be as maneuverable inside as her bike was. She gunned it, heading straight for the gaping hole that no longer required a member’s sticker on your shirt to get in.
