Survive (Day 2)

by Wise, A. R.

  “It’s beautiful,” said Porter, but his gaze drifted from the sky to June.

  Day Two – 1:26 am

  Red and June went back to the car to take out all the scavenged supplies. Porter was worried that other passing motorists might steal them, and he also wanted the opportunity to take inventory.

  He agreed to take first watch for the night. There was no way he could sleep with his leg in so much pain. Red and June laid out a blanket they’d found. The curve of the ditch forced them to lay against one another, spooning.

  Porter searched through one of the bags. It was made of orange-dyed cotton, with hand-stitched purple and blue butterflies near the corner. It was well-used, but sturdy. A blue patch had been sewn over a hole in the bottom. There was a mix of fresh fruits and vegetables, which they would have to eat fast, but there were also a few packages of dried food. Apparently, the deceased woman liked pears, because there were three plastic bags of them. He opened the next, identical orange bag, and counted the bottles of water.

  After perusing all the orange bags, he discovered that their biggest obstacle would be dehydration. While there were several bottles of water, there wasn’t enough for the three of them to stay hydrated for more than a few days. They’d have to keep an eye out for good sources of fresh water on their journey.

  June shifted, and then sat up. Red was happily unconscious and snoring.

  “Couldn’t sleep?” asked Porter when June came over to join him by the supplies.

  “No. I figured I might as well take first watch if you want to try and sleep.”

  “I don’t think I could either. My leg’s killing me.”

  “I’ve never had an easy time falling asleep. I knew I’d have trouble tonight, what with everything that’s happened. Not to mention all this light,” she said about the glowing aurora. “And your brother’s snoring doesn’t help.”

  “He could always fall asleep at the drop of a hat. Our mom used to joke about it. We’d take bets on if he could stay awake on a trip to the grocery. It was only a twenty-minute drive from the house, but he hardly ever made it.”

  “Red talks about your mom a lot. He misses her.”

  “Anyone who knew her misses her. She was one of those people who lit up every room she walked into. Everyone loved her.”

  “Life of the party type?”

  “No, not really,” said Porter. “She just had this… I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. It’s like this presence she had that made everyone happier. A natural sort of charisma, I guess. People were drawn to her. It’s not that she’d pander to people, or anything like that. You know, like some people do, where they pretend to like you and laugh at your jokes, but then talk shit behind your back. She never had a problem speaking her mind. If you pissed her off, she’d let you know, and you’d walk away feeling bad about making her mad. It didn’t matter if you were right or not. When she wasn’t on your side about something, you’d consider changing your mind just to make her happy.”

  “Sounds like you and your brother were a couple of momma’s boys.”

  “Proudly.”

  “Well that’s good. You can tell a lot about a guy by how he treats his mom.”

  “Well, Red would’ve given her the world if he could. She’s the only reason he stayed in Texas as long as he did. He moved the day after her funeral.”

  “Does Red remind you of her?” she asked.

  “Of mom?” Porter was surprised by the question, but it took him longer to respond than expected. He had to think about it, and then nodded with a frown that turned slowly to a smile. “Yeah, I guess he kind of does. He’s got the same kind of charisma she did. People gravitate towards him like they did to her.”

  “Does that mean you’re more like your dad?”

  Porter groaned. “Don’t be mean.”

  “I’m not trying to be mean. I know you guys don’t get along with him, but he can’t be all bad.”

  “Up for debate.”

  “Well, you’re nothing like your brother,” said June. “You give off more of an angry, alpha-male thing.”

  “Angry alpha-male, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  “I guess it could be worse. I’m not angry all the time. I promise.”

  She took a handful of grapes out of the bag and started to eat them slowly, popping them in her mouth one by one, and twirling them on her studded tongue. “Can’t blame you for being angry. Especially now,” she said with a grape in her mouth. “The world went and blew up on us without a warning.”

  “We had plenty of warning,” said Porter. “We just didn’t pay attention.”

  “Right, right. I forgot, you’re a prepper, just like your dad.” She nudged him with her elbow.

  They sat in silence for a while, staring up at the ever-changing lights emanating from the north. Porter closed his eyes, but the pain in his leg kept him wide awake.

  He thought of his oldest son, Anthony, and how he’d recently hit a home run at baseball practice. It was an unexpected and exhilarating moment for their whole family. Anthony had never displayed much interest in sports, but Porter’s wife, Mary, insisted he join a team to keep him out of trouble after school. Anthony resisted, and pouted for weeks, but he eventually realized he wasn’t getting out of it. Then, surprisingly, he started to enjoy himself. He was far from good, and still had a long way to go before mastering the basics of the game, but his powerful swing earned him respect among his peers. He was the first kid on the team that year to crack one over the fence, and his friends started to call him ‘Crusher.’

  Where was Anthony now? Was he safe? Did he listen during the lectures Porter used to give him about survival techniques?

  Porter inadvertently spoke aloud, “Stop it.”

  “What?” asked June.

  “Nothing, sorry. I was trying to convince myself to stop worrying about my kids.”

  “Oh, okay. I thought I was eating my grapes too loud or something.”

  “No, you’re fine.”

  “How old are your kids?”

  “13 and 9.” Porter pulled the picture out of his coat pocket to show her. “The smaller one is Mark, and the one that’s nearly as tall as my wife is Anthony.”

  She took the photo and sat up. She laid it flat on her knees so the aurora could illuminate it. “Mark and Anthony. Are you guys a big fan of the singer or something?”

  “The singer? No,” laughed Porter. “It’s a Shakespeare reference. Marc Antony. It was Mary’s idea. She’s a literature geek.”

  “Oh okay,” said June. “Geeze, if you put a beard on the older one he’d practically be your twin.”

  “Poor kid,” he said.

  “No, he’s a cutie,” said June. “And so’s Mark. He’s got chubby cheeks.”

  “And a bit of a belly too, which is crazy because the kid can never sit still. You’d figure he’d be thin as a rail.”

  She handed the photo back and added, “Your wife’s pretty.”

  “Thanks.” Porter wanted to avoid any further discussion about his family, so he changed the subject.

  “What about your family? Where are they?”

  “California, last I heard.”

  “Do they move around a lot?”

  “Yep.” She was tight-lipped, and Porter sensed he should stay off the topic of family.

  “How’d you end up in Colorado?”

  “A group of friends were coming out here and I tagged along. Been here ever since. That was about four years ago.”

  “Do you miss California?”

  “I never lived there.”

  “Oh, I thought you said…”

  “My parents are there now, but it’s not where I’m from.” June put the last of her grapes in her mouth, and chewed quick. Something caught Porter’s attention behind her, and he gazed into the distance as she continued. “I grew up in Utah. I couldn’t wait to get out of…”

  Porter reached over and clasped his hand on her mouth as he shushed her. He whispered, “Headli
ghts.”

  She turned fast, and saw the growing, pure white light on the blades of grass near the top of the ditch. It was hard to detect. The fire across the road and the borealis kept most of the area well lit, but the approaching headlights of a vehicle caused a deeper shadow from the grass to shift slowly to the side.

  Meanwhile, Red snored.

  Porter glared at his brother, and then at June. She understood what he meant without him having to say anything. June hurried to Red’s side, and covered his mouth. He woke with a start. She quickly and silently commanded him to be quiet.

  Porter heard tires coming to a halt on the gravel that made up the shoulder on their side of the road. Brakes squeaked.

  A stranger shouted, “Anyone here?”

  The three stayed silent, eyes wide and watching.

  “Hello?”

  The crunch of gravel unnerved them as the stranger walked closer to where they were hiding.

  “If you’re hurt and need help, just yell.” His voice was low and gravelly, as if he’d spent the better half of his life nursing a pack-a-day habit.

  They didn’t respond, and instead waited for the stranger to return to his car. He stayed parked for what felt like an hour, but was probably only five minutes.

  Once certain he was gone, Porter let out a sigh of relief.

  “That was too close,” said Red.

  “How do we know if he was infected or not?” asked June. “How are we supposed to know if anyone we meet is?”

  “That’s the problem,” said Porter. “We can’t be sure.”

  “The crying,” said Red. “They all had red eyes, and were crying.”

  “But that could be a temporary side effect for all we know. We stick together, and only trust each other. Everyone else is suspect.”

  “We’re not going to make it very far thinking like that,” said June.

  “We’ll make it farther than if we start trusting everyone we meet.”

  “Hey, Porter.” Whenever Red used his brother’s name, it usually meant he was going to say something he assumed would be received poorly. “I think we should check on the Jeep fire and see if we can get what we need out of it now. The longer we stay here, the better chance someone finds us. We’ve got the tools from the truck, so we don’t need the ones you brought, and I know you had gold in the Jeep, but what’re the chances it’s even there still?”

  “Pretty good,” said Porter.

  “Yeah, but how much burned shit are we going to have to dig through to find it?” asked June. “And it’ll probably be melted. I’m with Red. I say we pack up what we can, and get the hell out of here. Let’s find an out-of-the-way spot where we can actually get some good sleep.”

  Porter considered their opinion, and nodded in agreement. “All right. Let’s go strip what we can out of the other car, and then we’ll load up the truck and get out of here.”

  Day Two – 1:59 am

  It took them a while to pull apart the car, and they still didn’t get as much off it as Porter had hoped. They didn’t have to syphon the gas, but instead got the fuel hose disconnected, which let them fill up an empty water bottle that they then used to transfer the gas to their truck. Next, they took out the spark plugs, and some of the wiring in the dash that was easy to get to. Porter insisted on getting the headlights and battery, both of which took longer than expected.

  During an hour of work, they had to hide from eight other passing motorists. Luckily, none of them stopped to inspect the accidents, or offer any help.

  Red and June were eager to leave. They tried to reason with Porter that there’d be plenty of other cars they could strip if needed along the way. He knew they were right, but it felt foolish to leave the car sitting in the ditch with so many other prizes left to scavenge. Finally, he agreed to leave after draining a liter of oil.

  They piled their purloined treasures into the back of the truck, and used their blanket to cover it. Porter secured the blanket in place with sand bags, and then agreed to leave in search of a place to sleep.

  The wildfire still blazed, leaving a wake of black ash behind as it spread. They drove along the field until they found the first dirt road leading away. It was private property, but they took it anyhow, and headed back towards the foothills, and into a forest of pine.

  “This is as good a place as any,” said Porter as they neared a clearing in the trees beside the road.

  Porter was in the passenger seat, with June between him and his brother. The truck was a grey, Ford F-250 with a regular cab. The interior revealed its well-worn history. The grey, fabric seats were frayed and stank of cigarettes, and the floor was caked with mud. It ran loud, but well. The damage from rear-ending vehicles had caused the radiator to rattle, and broke one of the headlights.

  Red pulled over onto the rocky clearing. Porter held the door open for June, but she got out on Red’s side. He went to the back of the truck, and lifted the blanket they’d used to cover their supplies.

  “It’s chilly,” said June as she crossed her arms.

  “You can sleep in the truck’s cab,” said Porter. “It’ll be a pretty good bed if you lay across all three seats. You’ll just have to push the seatbelts into the cushions. Red, you can use this.” He balled up the blanket and threw it to his brother.

  “What about you? Aren’t you going to sleep?” asked Red.

  “I’m going to spend some time studying the map. The route I planned isn’t going to work anymore.”

  “Why not?” asked Red.

  “Because I had us going onto state roads here and there that I thought would be safe. Now I’m not so sure.”

  “Do you think…” June started to ask a question, but then stopped. Red and Porter waited for her to continue, and she sheepishly asked, “Do you think it’s even possible? I mean, we’re a long way from Texas now. Can we make it?”

  “I don’t know,” said Porter before gazing east, towards the cities that hugged the foothills. “I’ve got no idea what’s going on out there right now. If we’ve already run into people who were infected, then you’ve got to imagine it’s mass panic by now.”

  “If it’s possible to get to Mary and the boys, we’re going to do it,” said Red. “I promise you, Porter, I’m going to get you to those kids if it’s the last thing I do.”

  “You should try to sleep,” said June to Porter. “Take the truck. Red and I can use the blanket.”

  “I’ll be fine,” said Porter.

  “No, she’s right,” said Red. “You should sleep in the truck. We’ll stay out here.”

  Porter didn’t resist, and did his best to get comfortable in the truck. He was too tall to lay down on the three seats with the doors closed, which required him to curl up. His leg still hurt, although properly dressing it and using antibiotic cream had helped lessen the constant ache. However, he was certain it would prevent him from getting a good sleep.

  He could hear Red and June talking outside. Their quiet voices snuck in through the crack in the window.

  Porter propped up the picture of his family on the steering wheel, using a seam in the plastic to pinch the photo in place. He kissed his finger, and then pressed it to the faces of his boys. “You too,” he whispered before touching the image of Mary. “See you soon.”

  He planned on spending some time reviewing the map, but decided to close his eyes for a minute.

  Day Two – 10:58 am

  Porter awoke confused. His legs were hot, and he wasn’t sure why.

  He looked around, wiped drool from his lips and beard, and sat up. Half of the truck’s cab was illuminated with sunlight, which explained why his legs were warm, but the other half was dark. He looked behind him, through the driver’s side window, and saw there was a blanket draped over it and part of the windshield, blocking the sunlight.

  “Red?” he called out, disoriented and concerned. “Hey Red.” He scooted across the long bench seat that comprised the width of the truck’s cab, and opened the passenger side door.


  “You’re awake,” said Red when he saw his brother appear.

  Porter was stunned by how bright it was. He covered his eyes, and looked up at the sun’s position. “What time is it? How long have I been asleep?”

  “It’s mid-morning,” said Red. “No clue what time. I’d guess nine or ten.”

  Birds chirped from the nearby trees, unconcerned with the state of the world.

  “Hungry?” asked June. “We’ve got lots of pears.” She sat on a felled tree.

  “Did you guys put that there?” he asked while pointing back at the blanket.

  “Yeah, I did,” said Red. “When the sun came up it was pointing right in your window. I figured you could use the sleep.”

  “Thanks, I guess.”

  “One more thing,” said Red. “June hiked up the road a bit, and found a ranch.”

  “This road leads to it,” she added. “There’s no one there.”

  “We wanted to stop in and see if we could find some things,” said Red.

  “I’m not breaking into someone’s house,” said Porter, surprised they thought it was an option.

  “We don’t want to steal anything,” said Red. “Well, not much. We just want to freshen up, and I need a change of clothes.” He showed some of the burn marks and holes on his hoodie from trying to put out the Jeep fire.

  “There’s no one there,” said June. “I looked around. It’s empty.”

  “Breaking into someone’s house is a good way to end up on the wrong end of a shotgun,” said Porter.

  “All of our stuff got burned up,” said Red. “This trip’s already going to be hard as it is. Right? Why pass up the chance to get some supplies?”

  “And get cleaned up,” said June. “The two of you already stink. I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like in that truck today.”

  Porter was conflicted. He hated the idea of breaking into someone’s house and stealing from them, but he also knew they could use some more clothes. He considered it for a moment, and then said, “Okay, but we’re in and out of there in no more than ten minutes. Agreed?”