“I know,” said Haley. She looked petrified.
Mercy emotionally struggled seeing the bodies. Though they weren't of her family, they were real, and putrefied. Haley avoided looking in their direction completely. Mercy had not consciously realized she was smelling that strong stench when they had left their hiding place. Their world was a table bearing a feast for dozens of scavenging birds and thousands of flies.
We still have each other, she thought but inexplicably could not say. We're alive. There was, at least, some peace for Mercy to find in that moment. Truly, it was a different world – the smell of the dead, and fear of anyone still alive. Their own people had turned against each other. People have always found excuses to kill each other, she thought. They had become victims of that fact.
Despite their difference in age, Mercy needed Haley as much as Haley needed her.
Mercy looked to the end of the street. “Okay,” she said to a patiently-waiting Haley. “We'll look for food, then hopefully find somewhere to stay... Somewhere with people.”
She took Haley's hand again and they began walking west. Mercy conceived a specific destination to go first. There was a market not far from them. Despite the silence and the emptiness, for the time being, they had a certain comfort provided by the neighborhood: familiarity. Ahead of them, there were no bodies to be seen, unlike what they found at their own house. Just look away if we walk by any more, she resolved.
Mercy led them with extreme caution to the end of the street, making a right turn onto 33rd Avenue. “Do you know where we're going?” asked Haley.
“Shh.” Haley lowered her head, showing that she heeded Mercy's instruction. “Yes,” she whispered back. “I'm looking for a store. If we don't find anything there, we'll go to MLK. There has to be food somewhere over there.”
“MLK the school?”
“No, the street.”
“Well, it's not a street, it's a boulevard.”
“Haley!” Mercy hissed. She tried to keep her voice low. “It doesn't matter.” She kept a tight grip on Haley's hand.
More than any activity in the streets, she remained alert to what was happening in the houses. People inside them must have been watching... Plotting... She thought of getting shot, or being ambushed by a band of raiders. After a moment, she corrected her line of thinking. No one would waste bullets on two girls. Then she conceded, nobody would waste anything on us, anyway. It was her fear imagining these ways for them to die. She feared death would come to them, but tried to remind herself that the things more likely to befall them were worse than death.
They finally arrived at the New Seasons Market, which was in an identical state as their house. Fewer bodies, though. “Don't look at them,” Mercy said.
When one chooses to kill, how long before everyone else follows? she thought as they entered.
Aisle after aisle, nothing but empty containers, and a great deal of glass as well. The floor was drenched in what was probably what had been spilled drinks, making their feet stick with every step. Mercy could only hope none of the dried red was blood. If any of it was, she convinced herself it was spilled wine and ignored it. “Don't touch anything, especially the floor,” she advised her charge.
“Why would I touch the floor? You think I'm just gonna bend down and-”
“Haley... Please don't.”
Despite the obvious lack of anything to find, Mercy resumed searching anyway. Toward the back of the store, she began to see paper everywhere, rather than garbage. Initially, she believed it to be tattered products, such as blank sheets or paper towels, but after glancing longer than a second, she saw that much of it was old newspaper article fragments of the Oregonian.
“Hmm,” she said.
“What?”
Mercy knelt down and took a random page. She read for a moment. “CIVIL WAR II?” read the title. Dramatic, she thought.
“Riots, looting, and armed theft on a large scale have left many to wonder if the country is on the brink of a second Civil War. Many speculate the violence as unnecessary, perpetrated by former General Allen Braun, who has unceasingly encouraged American citizens to stand up against what he calls the 'hoarding upper class and tyrannical government.' Many officials publicly blame Braun for the military infighting, with almost half the troops of all ranks abandoning their duty and standing with the hostile citizens against those still loyal to the country and the president, including their former comrades.”
“Why present it as speculation?” said Mercy.
“What?” asked Haley, who had been peeking her head into the reach-in coolers in search of at least one beverage left behind.
“This article was talking about what might happen if the people kept fighting. It was already happening though. Stupid.” She threw the paper down. “Everyone wanted to blame Braun, when they should have blamed the rich and the government.” Haley said nothing, though she was attentive. “Never mind. Sorry for venting.”
“I wish I could understand,” admitted Haley.
“Me too. I don't think anyone does. I mean, it wasn't just one guy's fault. So many things were going wrong, and most people just got sick of it...” She caught herself starting to rant again, then stopped. She changed the subject: “We should go. There's nothing left here.”
“What if we look in the back?”
“I'm sure a thousand people already searched every square inch of the store, Haley. There's nothing here. We can't waste time. It's going to be dark before long.”
They returned to 33rd, but Mercy turned back to the direction they came from. There was complete silence between them. Mercy unceasingly thought about the article, and the bits she caught from other parts of it. When the two reached Alberta Avenue, Mercy turned right and they started following that road through more neighborhood.
An abandoned truck shortly ahead of them was tipped on its side, with the head and torso of a body sticking out, pinned between it and the dirt. A hole was blown in his left temple. Mercy pulled Haley from the sidewalk onto the asphalt. Haley tried to stare longer, but Mercy inhibited her.
Questions flooded her mind, all encompassing how that could have happened and why no one saved that man. She continued to lead them forward. “Guns make it easy,” she said to herself.
“What?” Haley asked.
“Guns make it easy to kill. You just pull a trigger. You don't even have to watch them die. You can just walk away.”
“Why did they shoot that guy?”
“Because he was going to die anyway.”
“That makes it okay?” Haley seemed genuinely interested to know where this line was drawn. But Mercy refused to answer. “What made everybody like this?”
“Everyone has that side to them... Everyone.”
They resumed walking for some time until Haley blurted aggressively, “Why aren't we looking for another house?”
“We will, but we need to get food first.”
“There was food in our house!”
“Yes, we were lucky. But that was just luck, Haley.” Dad's fanaticism, actually, she kept to herself.
“But shouldn't we find a place to stay first? Isn't that more important?”
Mercy had to admit the child had a solid point, but she stuck by her line of thinking. “What if there's nothing to eat in the next house? We'd risk leaving our shelter to find food, and by the time we came back to it, it could be taken, or we might not even make it back at all. Finding food buys us time.”
“We'll find a different house. We don't have to stay in one place all the time.”
“We can't risk always looking for another safe haven. We need to stay wherever we can, for as long as we can. But first, we need to find food.” Haley nodded, allowing Mercy to proceed again. They did not hold hands that time. Mercy led, and Haley simply followed.
They spoke little to each other in the hours until the sun set, and night settled in. Even with their last meals having been not very long ago, their energy was emptying and hunger came over them
. We should have found something by now, Mercy thought, but there was nothing. Maybe all the food's in the houses, she admitted. But if it's all in the houses, then it would all be guarded. I guess that means any house open for the taking wouldn't have any food. Mercy gave up attempting to find an easy means to circumvent their dire situation.
Mercy led them to a less commercialized part of the boulevard, into a small park with a single bench. She buried her face as she took a seat. Haley remained standing. After a minute or two, she heard Haley get excited.
“Look, Aunt Mercy!”
Lifting her head, she saw a family of deer, peacefully eating from the abundance of plant life in the park, namely the tall grass she was seated near. Haley stared at them with adoration and fascination. Mercy observed the animals as well, and Haley with them. Cute thing, she thought of her niece, smiling, as she watched Haley step very slowly toward the deer. Though they turned their heads, perking up their ears, it didn't seem that they minded. Haley abruptly stopped.
“I should prob'ly leave them alone,” she said. Mercy nodded. With great reluctance, Haley turned around and added, “I don't think we're gonna find anything out here,” her niece said honestly.
“I think you're right. I hope you're not, though.” Mercy put her arm around Haley after she sat next to her. “It's been months. Whatever was left to find is already taken. Any healthy food would have spoiled by now, too. We should live in the wild, so we could pick berries and hunt. The city's a death trap when nothing's being imported.”
“People could be growing food in their back yards,” said Haley reassuringly. “We should do that. You know, find seeds for different plants and stuff. Live off whatever we can grow.”
“That wouldn't do us a whole lot of good now. Trees and plants take weeks ... months to grow. We already talked about this, didn't we?”
“Not really. Come to think of it, we said that would be too risky, because we'd-”
“Have to be outside,” they said simultaneously.
“Don't forget there's risk of our food being stolen in the middle of the night,” said Mercy. “We'd have to sleep upstairs, or outside for that matter. I don't know, Haley. We're taking a risk now, aren't we? Wandering around, out here … in the open...”
Mercy glanced every direction, as did Haley, keeping a sharp eye on objects that could conceal a person, such as trees, posts or vehicles. Then she thought about the houses within her view, determining which ones appeared the most promising. Unfortunately they all displayed signs of break-in. Few appeared to have been deserted for a great length of time, likely meaning there was nothing of value left inside.
“I bet every house in the country has been invaded by now,” said Haley, her patience wearing thin. “There's no right answer. We have to just pick one.”
Mercy sighed, rising to her feet laboriously. “I hate to admit it, but you're right. I just... I don't want to risk going without food. I don't want to risk choosing a house that's already taken. If I get you killed, I'll never forgive myself.”
“Hey! Remember that night when you scared off that one guy that broke in?” Haley was probably trying to sound reassuring, but to Mercy she came across as satisfied with the outcome of the event. “You just shot at them and screamed. That's all you had to do. They ran away.”
“So what if I scared them off with a gun?” Mercy's tone was almost scornful. “Your dad had a gun, your uncle Carlos, and even Grandma had a gun. What happened to them?” Mercy awaited a response, though Haley knew all too well what the answer was.
“I'm sorry, Aunt Mercy. I didn't mean to sound like this is a game. I know it's not.”
Mercy breathed in deep. “I know you're taking it seriously. It's hard, that's all. I don't know what I'm feeling right now. I feel … angry. I'm afraid, I'm paranoid...”
“It's okay, I-”
“Let's just go. It's already dark. Before long I won't be able to see you.”
“Oh. I barely noticed,” said Haley.
Fortunately, as the sun vanished beyond the horizon, the moon grew brighter. No clouds to obscure it, or to bring rain. They had at least some means of watching their surroundings. As they began to walk, Mercy scanned every direction, certain that someone was waiting to ambush them. The darkness grew rapidly, shortening her vision more every minute, like the night wished to blind her.
During the past two months, every night the darkness was suffocating. Not one street lamp was lit, nor any lamps or candles from within other houses. Mercy quickly learned how terrified of the night Haley was. The first two weeks were the worst. Though Mercy was with her through it all, holding her hand, reassuring that she was right beside her, Haley continued to tremble, claiming to see things that weren't there, and hearing sounds with no source. Sound of any kind, from trees rustling in the wind or from faint, random creaks from the house, only amplified her fear. After two months, she was more adjusted to the darkness, but not significantly. Eventually, spiders, which once terrified her, didn't faze her whatsoever, which was at least a slight improvement. Mercy thought she handled her own fear well, never trembling and always prepared to face any threat.
Mercy extracted her flashlight, gesturing Haley to do likewise as she lead them further into the neighborhood. “We'll go to the first house that looks intact,” she whispered to her. Rattling from up ahead startled them both. It sounded similar to a chain. Maybe it was. Regardless what was causing the sound, Mercy picked up the pace, but did not run. It was too late to turn back. The rattling continued, its volume ever growing. Apart from that, faint wind, and distant miscellaneous sounds from all over the city, it was as silent as a cemetery. Any sound, even a snapping twig, seemed abnormally loud and was reason for alarm.
She saw a brown house on their side of the street. “That one,” she called, gripping Haley's wrist and pulling her up to the home.
Mercy rested her hand upon Haley's head as she leaned up, peering through what appeared to be the living room window. She felt Haley's head jerk to the side. “I saw something out there! Someone's following us.” She struggled keeping her voice a whisper.
Mercy nearly checked for herself, but thought, it doesn't matter. She ran to the front door. “It's locked,” she said, racing back to Haley.
“Of course it is!” sassed Haley. Mercy took her niece's hand again, running the opposite way around the house. She looked for an opening to enter through. Haley cried a second time. “Someone's following us!”
“Okay, okay.”
Toward the back of the house was a small window leading into the basement. Mercy stopped there, working out a way to pry it open, receiving some help from Haley, but both their efforts were futile. Mercy sprinted to the back yard, wasting no time informing Haley what she was thinking. When a shed came in view, she ran for it. Then another sight caught her attention, halting her abruptly. The sliding glass door to the back of the house was open; even the screen.
Haley caught up to her shortly after. For a brief moment, Mercy forgot about the danger, because of the chance there was a new threat waiting for them inside. It's not broken, Mercy observed. Nobody broke in... She saw her niece walk closer to the house, while she remained stationary.
None of it made sense, but she understood she had no choice. Mercy was not backing down, and she could not leave her niece alone just to learn what was inside. They slowly stepped through the sliding glass door into complete darkness.
“Hello?” Mercy faintly called. There was no answer, nor sound of any kind. She moved slowly, as lightly as she could, but discovered the floor was hardwood. It creaked like an old attic, striking fear in her with every step. Silence was crucial, but her heart seemed to beat ten times louder. Her breathing had not slowed at all since they came inside. She kept her mouth open, taking as slow of breaths as she could. She reached an arm back toward Haley, who this time, pushed it away. “Haley!”
“I'm not a child!”
“Shh!”
The girls pulled out their flashlights
once seeing there was no activity in the house, or at least on that floor. Now, at slightly more ease to think straight, they noticed a powerful stench, present since they entered the home. How did I not notice that before? thought Mercy. Something's rotting. Haley kept her light pointed low, touching the floor at all times. Shifting her lights to the left, Mercy saw a foot, causing her to gasp, and her heart to skip a beat. She kept her light fixed on the foot, her hand frozen in the air. Someone was already present in the room; there was no doubt about it. At least it's attached to something, she thought, considering all they had seen that day. Then, she quickly learned that the person within arm's reach was not standing there, but was seated, and dead.
She aimed her light upward, directly onto the body, though it terrified her. She was correct. It was the body of an old man, his head tilted back with his eyes and mouth open, a double-barrel shotgun in his cold, left hand. Haley froze, staring just past the body.
“Don't take your light off him,” demanded Mercy.
Haley obeyed, though asked, “Why?”
“I'm not going to walk through a dark house, with a dead body, without being able to see where it is.”
“I can't keep the light on him forever. And I don't exactly want to look at it, either.”
“Neither do I. Just...” Mercy shone her light forward, spotting the kitchen up ahead, and the front door a ways to the left of it. “Let's try to find the basement.” Mercy headed for the kitchen, gripping Haley's wrist, only to have it smacked away.
“What if there's other bodies here? What happened here?” cried the younger one.
“I don't have any idea,” answered Mercy as they started scouting the entire house for the way into the basement. “If you see any more bodies, don't look at them.”
“Why the hell would I stare at corpses?”
Mercy didn't respond.
They finally found the door to the basement, located by the stairs to the second floor. Mercy opened it, illuminating the steps leading to the underground, then phasing it onto Haley.
“What?” she asked as Mercy looked at her. “Get that out of my eyes!”
Remnant Page 5
