The Sound

by James Sperl

  Andrew moved as if he were going to walk away then, abruptly, he stopped. He looked at Clarissa intently. Then he put his hand on her arm.

  “Get as much water as you can carry, though I doubt there’s any left at this point. If you see buckets or demijohns, get them. I saw some in the hardware section. You can use them to store tap water. I’m also seeing people bypass cornmeal and quinoa. Grab up as much as you can. In fact…”

  Before Clarissa understood what Andrew was doing, he had pulled two boxes of quinoa from his sack and shoved them into her bag.

  “Andrew, no,” she protested. “I can’t take these from you.” She tried to hand them back, but Andrew had placed a delicate albeit firm hand over hers to prevent it.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “I have plenty. You don’t. Please. Take them.”

  Clarissa looked at him, stared into eyes that were deep pools of sadness. She felt an inexplicable urge to hug him.

  “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

  “Nothing about it is good.” He paused as if he considered saying more but ultimately settled with, “I better go.”

  “Okay. Thanks for the quinoa.”

  “Sure. Take care of yourself, Clarissa.”

  “You too, Andrew.”

  Adjusting the rucksack over his shoulder, Andrew made his way down the aisle and turned out of sight. Considering what was available in the store, Clarissa didn’t think she would be far behind him. She watched him go then moved quickly toward the cereal section, and as she did a curious thought struck her. For as long as she’d known Andrew, he had never once called her by her first name—until just now.

  * * *

  It took longer than Clarissa had expected. The previously agreed upon fifteen minutes became an easy half hour by the time everyone returned from their shopping excursion. When Clarissa finally weaved her way back to Valentina and Rachel, she was disappointed—though not surprised—to see that each woman had had similarly bad luck.

  Valentina held up her bags. Both were full, just not with anything that was on the list.

  “Dairy and meat was cleaned out,” she said. “I mean nothing. Not even a package of pigs’ feet was left. Same for the milks. Almond, soy, rice—everything was gone. I managed to catch a store employee as he wheeled out several boxes of jerky.” She lifted a bag as evidence. “But people were on him like flies to shit before he ever made it to the aisle.”

  “Yeah,” Rachel said, clearly shaken. “I’ve never seen anything like this. I got some stuff, but most everything we wanted was gone. I ended up just throwing whatever I thought could be useful into the bag. Hope that’s all right.”

  Clarissa shook her head. “It’s fine, Rach. You did great. Both of you. There’s not much else we can do. I think for now we just pay for what we’ve got and get the heck out of here. Maybe we can try again in a few days once people calm down.”

  “I second that,” said Valentina.

  Rachel nodded. “Okay. Yeah. All these people are freaking me out a little.”

  “I hear you.” Clarissa scanned the checkout lines and chose one that looked the shortest. “Come on.”

  The women powered through the crowd until they queued in a line easily fifteen people deep that extended well into the baby aisle. Clarissa surveyed the sea of people waiting to pay for groceries. It was insanity. This was not like Pastora. Hell, it wasn't like any First World nation, as far as she was concerned. This couldn’t be happening. The chaos she saw was the stuff of fiction. But now life imitated art—and it scared the hell out of her.

  “Clar,” Valentina said. She gently tapped Clarissa’s arm. Clarissa looked at her friend, who nudged her chin in the direction of a bearded man wearing camo shorts and a sleeveless button-up. At first, Clarissa didn’t know what she was supposed to be looking at, but when the man stooped to pick up a dropped set of car keys, she saw it peek out from beneath his shirttail—the bottom of a holster.

  “How many more people do you think are packing in here?” Valentina said.

  Clarissa chewed her lip and let her eyes drift over the crowd. “More than just a few would be my guess.”

  Suddenly she felt uneasy. She had no idea what Oregon’s concealed carry law was, but even if God himself came down and gave his thumbs up to arm the masses, she still wouldn’t like it. Guns plus hysteria equaled bad things.

  “More than just a few what?” Rachel said, joining the conversation.

  Clarissa met Valentina’s gaze briefly, each uncertain whether they should burden Rachel with their discovery. But Valentina was a quick thinker and came up with the perfect reply.

  “Glasses of wine,” she said. “I brought over six bottles this morning, and I plan on popping the cork on at least one of them when we get back.”

  “That is the best idea I’ve heard all day,” Clarissa added. “We’ll make an evening of it. Once we get back to my place, we’ll cook up a grand feast. Mass hysteria and apocalypse be damned!”

  Rachel grinned despite wet eyes. “That sounds great. Would anyone mind if I took the reins on the main course? There’s something I’ve been wanting to try.”

  Clarissa shrugged approvingly. “Be my guest. What’d you have in mind?”

  “I saw that you had a roast in your freezer.”

  “Yeah. Been there for weeks. I haven’t found the time or inclination to do anything with it.”

  Everyone stepped forward as the line moved.

  “Well, if it’s okay with you, I have a recipe I’ve been saving that looks awesome. You rub it with a Moroccan spice mix and slow roast it for a couple of hours. Then you wrap it in foil with garlic, onion, and some herbs for another couple of…”

  Rachel trailed off. Her eyes swelled with fear.

  “Rach?” Clarissa said, her smile dissolving. “What’s wrong?”

  Others around her followed suit, the chatter in the grocery store diminishing, as dread-filled eyes trailed to the ceiling. Conversations died until not a single person spoke throughout the entire market, but Clarissa heard what had captivated everyone long before the last voice petered into terrified silence.

  No.

  She held her breath and felt her skin go clammy, as Rachel and Valentina clutched her arm. Mothers scooped up their children and held them protectively to their breast. Heads frantically turned and gaped upward, as if they were able to see the sky through the metal roof, but they couldn't see what frightened them.

  They could only listen to the Sound.

  CHAPTER 14

  Pandemonium was instantaneous.

  Dead calm transformed into a mad dash for the exit once everyone recognized what they heard. The police couldn’t do anything. There were simply too many people pushing to get out.

  As before, the same cavernous metal scrape filled the air, the hollow noise raking the sky and reminding everyone of what they had to fear. People shoved past families and the elderly to try to escape, but progress halted at the doors. Carts piled high with food jammed the store’s entrance and exit, as the more self-possessed attempted to flee with unpaid-for goods. Men and women scrambled over the cart traffic, mothers handing crying children through the opening to fathers waiting to take them on the other side.

  “Come on!” Clarissa hollered to Valentina and Rachel, though she had no idea where they would go. She crouched to grab one of the bags of food she had set on the floor, but a backwards-tripping woman heel-kicked it over, scattering the contents into a maelstrom of legs and feet. She watched with despair as the food was trampled. Holding tight to her remaining bag, Clarissa turned to her friends.

  “Stay with me!”

  Rachel nodded furiously, tears pooling in her big eyes. Valentina readjusted her grip on her bags, her face frozen in terror.

  Clarissa didn’t waste time uttering reassurances. They needed to get out of the store. Now. The Sound's impact was long-term, but it was the immediate threat of pistol-waving hooligans that terrified Clarissa at the moment. People were frantic to escape—though why
anybody thought being outside changed anything, Clarissa didn’t know—and when push came to shove to make that happen, it wouldn’t be long before someone brandished the first firearm. After that, all bets were off. For her, getting outside wasn’t about escaping the Sound; it was about escaping inevitable conflict.

  “Clarissa!” Rachel yelled when she lost her grip on Clarissa’s shirtsleeve.

  Valentina, who watched her friend get sucked away as the mob ebbed, stopped to reach for Rachel, but she took a hard hit in her shoulder from several college-aged men who charged past her.

  “Assholes!” Valentina shouted after them. She pushed against the flow of traffic just enough to lock hands with Rachel, but the swell was too much. She lost her grip.

  Clarissa spun around and reached back, but it was like being caught in a riptide. Her body was forced to move in one direction even though she tried to will herself to move in another. The force was just too strong.

  A fight broke out at the exit between two men. One man took a punch to the side of his head as he tried to move another man’s cart, which had been blocking the door. A flurry of fists followed, and faces became bloodied. Families with children were forced to watch and wait until the fight shifted away from the door.

  The same college kids that had crashed into Valentina pounced on the carts clogging the exit. With brute strength and sheer determination, they jammed a pair through, clearing the entrance. People pushed and shoved to follow.

  The screaming hadn’t abated in the slightest. Clarissa’s ears rang from sustained shrieking that pushed the limits on the decibel scale. She tried to find Valentina and Rachel in the melee, but it was impossible to do anything other than stay upright. She knew they were behind her. With any luck, they would stay that way and meet her outside.

  Bodies compacted and crushed, as opposing crowds converged on the entrance. Clarissa’s feet were barely able to move, her steps reduced to a shuffle. Her face was inches from the back of an oily head of hair, and she could feel the hot, moist breath from several people on the back of her neck. She pushed forward, jockeying for position until she siphoned through the doorway and was spit out on the other side. Running several steps away from the entrance, she stopped and searched for her friends.

  The Sound continued its aural attack. It was as if the world scraped along a rusty gate as wide as the universe. People gaped upward, their eyes round and searching, but they saw nothing other than a pristine blue sky, cloudless in its early summer perfection.

  Rachel was the first one through the exit. Wet tracks stained her face, and Clarissa jumped frantically up and down to get her attention. Rachel tore a path over to her and hugged Clarissa with a ferociousness reserved for the supremely terrified. Moments later, Valentina, who appeared more irritated than scared, emerged and joined them.

  “What the fuck is wrong with people?” she shouted.

  “Quickly!” Clarissa said, taking Rachel’s hand.

  The situation in the parking lot rapidly deteriorated. Clarissa knew it would get increasingly worse, as more people streamed for their cars and tried to be the first out of the lot.

  Just ahead, a red Sentra backed into a Toyota pickup as it squealed out of its space. Despite the Sound and all the surrounding mayhem, the man in the truck still sprang from behind the wheel to confront the driver of the Nissan, a fit woman who looked as if she could hold her own. Clarissa, Valentina, and Rachel swerved past them, as the two erupted into a screaming match.

  Another crunch of metal sounded two aisles over. This time, two men were involved, and one of them had a gun.

  “This way!” Clarissa said, pulling Rachel and Valentina through a column of parked cars into another aisle away from the fracas.

  A gunshot went off. Rachel screamed, and Valentina yelled, “Holy shit!” Clarissa didn’t look back to see what happened.

  The parking lot became a flood of people rushing for their cars. Taillights burst to life and engines rumbled, as vehicle after vehicle battled for an open stretch of asphalt. Cars tore in the direction of the lot’s three possible exits. Some of the larger, more equipped trucks, however, didn’t wait for their turn to leave. Instead, they chose to four-wheel it over the curb and onto the adjacent sidewalk before reaching the street.

  “Almost there!” Clarissa hollered.

  Her car was in sight. What had started out as a gripe over parking so far away from the store turned out to be a godsend. Cars still sped by, but there were far fewer people with whom she had to contend.

  We might just make it out of here in one piece.

  A tire chirped on Clarissa’s left, causing her to jump. The offending vehicle gunned its engine and roared down the lane in a bid to escape. But it was moving too fast. Had the lane been free, it would have reached the exit in record time, but the stroller and the young mother pushing it, both of whom had appeared suddenly from behind a silver Hummer, caused the driver of the fast-moving car to brake and swerve. Just as unexpectedly, a blue Fusion backed out. The driver, attempting to adjust his path once again, lost control and plowed into the back right quarter panel and bumper of a parked car. But not just any car.

  Clarissa’s car.

  “Hey!” she screamed. She charged toward her crippled vehicle, but even as she broke into an all-out sprint, the reverse lights on the car that hit hers popped on.

  Son of a bitch, she thought. He’s leaving.

  “Where are you going?” she shouted. “You just hit my car!”

  The driver of the vehicle gunned his engine and backed up. Metal groaned as he cleared Clarissa’s car then raced away. He cut off a minivan before he fishtailed through the exit onto the road.

  Clarissa staggered to a stop in front of her car.

  “Shit!”

  The damage was significant. The rear bumper had been crushed and pushed into the tire, which now tilted. Clarissa faced the unfortunate truth: the car was undrivable.

  Rachel and Valentina caught up to her.

  “Oh, my God,” Rachel whimpered. “What’re we going to do now?”

  Clarissa knelt and inspected her car.

  “That ass turd!” Valentina blared. She wheeled around and yelled at the people in the parking lot. “What the hell’s wrong with all of you?! Is this how it’s going to be? Is this what we’ve come to?”

  Clarissa set her remaining bag on the ground and moved to Valentina. She thought Rachel had been the one to worry about, but Valentina was on the cusp of a full-fledged meltdown.

  And still, the Sound persisted.

  It was like Chinese water torture. The noise never abated, never ceased with its ear-throttling racket. It only continued to drone and screech and rattle the world.

  Rachel started crying. Clarissa swooped her into an open arm and held her close, even as yet another car crash occurred at the end of the aisle and jarred the three of them. The scene was too surreal for words. Smoke billowed from no less than two places around the parking lot, and they could hear shouting and screaming even above the Sound. People scurried among the cars, filling the spaces between vehicles like liquid. Some cowered. Some ran. Some cried where they stood, too scared to move.

  Clarissa couldn’t allow herself to get caught up in the confusion. She and her friends needed to move. To where she had no idea. At the moment, away was as good a place as any.

  “Plan B,” she said, releasing her friends and hoisting the bag onto a shoulder.

  Rachel swiped at her eyes. “Where’re we going?”

  “I don’t care. Just out of here. Come on, get your bags.”

  “What, are we going to walk?” Valentina protested. “To your place? That’s four miles away!”

  “So it’ll take a while!” Clarissa snapped. “But we can’t just sit here and hope my car gets better. We’ve got to put some distance between us and all of this.” She swept an arm over the whole of the lot.

  Another gunshot rang out. Something pinged off a car four spaces away. It was all the motivation any of them n
eeded.

  “Okay, let’s move! Come on!”

  Valentina and Rachel clutched their bags and fell in behind Clarissa, who got all of one step before a dark blue Ford F-350 stood on its brakes and came to a stop directly beside them.

  Clarissa whirled on the driver in a fury.

  “What the fuck are you doing, you jackass?! You’re going to kill someone driving like…”

  Andrew leaned over and cranked open the passenger door.

  “Get in!”

  Clarissa didn’t hesitate. Throwing her bag into the bed of the truck, she tore Rachel’s bags from her hands then ripped open the back passenger side door.

  “Go! Get in!”

  Valentina dumped her sacks in the bed as well then clambered after Rachel. Clarissa hopped into the passenger seat and slammed the door closed. Valentina screamed in her ear, “Go! Go!”

  Andrew stood on the gas, pinning each woman to her seat. The exits choked with too many cars, but Andrew wasn’t heading for them. Just as others had done, he barreled toward the perimeter of the lot, which was lined by concrete curbs. He slowed only slightly before reaching it, the truck jostling violently as it powered over the steep bump. Andrew was unfazed. He pushed on, plowing over decorative shrubbery on the other side. The truck had taken a mean bounce off the sidewalk before it landed in the street.

  The women were tossed like crash-test dummies, as Andrew fought to correct his travel and find a lane. Cars honked and sped around him, but he didn’t care. His only goal had been to get out of the lot. And he had done it.

  Clarissa stared through the window, rapt by what she saw, as the truck blazed down the street. The situation was the same everywhere. People were losing their minds. Cars zoomed along the road with no regard for speed limits. Those without transportation hurried along the sidewalks in stooped-over postures, one eye on the sky.