by Wise, A. R.
Beside the field was an idyllic farmhouse, red barn, and towering silo, but Porter decided they should keep driving to get out of sight of the Renault. His decision was wordless, which gave him pause.
He considered June’s critique, and decided to ask them their opinion. “I think we should try to get farther before we stop. What do you guys think?”
“I agree,” said Red.
“Me too,” said June. “But let’s not wait too long. I’m starving.”
Porter felt vindicated by their acquiescence.
Soon they found a dirt road that went between two fields, making it easier to drive. To their right was more shorn wheat. There were bundles placed every fifty yards, neatly squared and tied, glowing gold in the waning daylight. To their left was corn, the stalks tall and dying, their leaves brown and thirsty.
Daylight had a fragile hold as the sun touched the tops of the Rocky Mountains. The last vestige of the coronal mass ejection might still decorate the sky, but it wasn’t dark enough yet for the brilliance. As they crossed the farmland, it was easy to imagine the world was functioning as it should – as it had, less than two days ago.
“I don’t see anyone,” said June as she looked behind them. The truck kicked up a sizeable dust cloud, but it wasn’t thick enough to block all vision. “I think we’re in the clear.”
“All right,” said Porter. “Let’s keep an eye out for a house.”
“I see the top of a barn,” said June, pointing to their right.
“Where there’s a barn, there’s bound to be a house,” said Porter as he turned off the dirt road and onto the field of wheat.
While the landscape of the eastern plains were flat in comparison to the rest of Colorado, the land still rippled with middling hills, and the barn hid behind one of them. It wasn’t until they passed a tractor and crested the small hill that they saw the farm in its entirety.
The barn was white, or had been before age and decay warped the wood and cracked the paint. There was an irrigation wheel leaning against the back wall, its pipes collapsed and laying in disrepair. The structure was still serviceable, and looked to be in use, but it was in dire need of repair. The farmhouse wasn’t much better. The paint looked newer, but still a decade past the need for a new coat. It was yellow, which might’ve once been a cheery color, but now resembled the teeth of a vagrant who’d never asked a dentist for anything other than spare change. The front hedges were overgrown, branches reaching out at every angle but down.
“Is this place abandoned?” asked Red.
“I don’t know,” said Porter. “The field’s been taken care of.”
There was a car on blocks behind the house, and a pile of various car parts half the height of the house itself. Most of it was rusted, and weeds had grown through the gaps. Other trash littered the area, including a kitchen sink sitting in front of the back door, as if someone had meant it as a joke.
Old tires had been laid on their side along the length of the house, and filled with dirt to function as flowerbeds. Only weeds grew in them now. There was a two-seater swing on the front porch, its chain grinding as the wind made it wiggle.
“I’m getting a Texas Chainsaw vibe here,” said Red as they stopped beside the house.
“Do you want to find someplace else?” asked Porter.
“No, this is fine,” said June. “I’m too hungry to give a shit. Let’s see if anyone’s home.”
They got out, and approached the front door the same way they had Abraham’s. Porter led the way, his pistol drawn.
He knocked hard and said, “Anyone home?”
No answer.
“Hello?” Porter yelled.
Still nothing.
“I’m going to come in. We don’t mean any harm.” He turned the door handle, but discovered it was locked. “Piss.”
“Let’s walk around back and see if the other door’s open,” said Red.
When Porter stepped off the front stoop, his left calf was suddenly struck with a sharp, intense pain that caused him to stagger and then drop to his knee. He cursed, and tried to quickly get up again, but the pain was near crippling.
“What happened?” asked June.
“I don’t know. Son of a bitch. My leg just… I don’t know, it just started hurting again. I must’ve stepped wrong, or hit it weird. Fuck, that hurt like hell.”
“You okay?” asked Red.
“I will be.” Porter limped along, and let his brother lead the way to the back door.
“We can take off the bandage and check you when we get inside,” said June.
Red got to the back door, and turned the handle. He glanced at his brother with a wide smile as the door opened. “Hey look, finally a bit of good luck.”
Porter felt a pang of terror at the sight of his brother’s cavalier expression. Red was about to casually stroll into the house without a second thought. He quickly grabbed Red’s arm, and held him back. “Don’t just go in there. Be careful.”
“There’s no one here,” said Red.
“You don’t know that,” said Porter.
“He’s right, Red,” said June. “We need to be paranoid – like always now.”
“All right,” said Red. “Sorry.” He turned back to the partially open door and yelled, “Anyone home?”
He held his pistol with both hands, the barrel pointed up, and used his back to open the door fully. Once inside, he straightened his aim, locking his elbows as he pointed the gun like a useless flashlight into the dark, dirty home.
The back door opened onto the kitchen, which looked like it belonged in a frat house instead of a farm. The dishes in the sink were piled high, and caked with old, rotting food. The fridge stood open, its contents pilfered except for what’d been left to rot. The floor had once been white, but the grout was as black as dirt, and the tile grey. Cabinets yawned, their dishes missing.
“Looks like whoever lived here took off,” said Red.
“Good riddance,” said June. “Who would want to live in this mess?”
Chickens adorned the room in nearly every conceivable spot. The wallpaper featured chickens, the salt and pepper shakers were chickens, the clock was inside the wide-open mouth of a plastic chicken, and every magnet on the fridge was a different sort of chicken.
Red pinched his nose and closed the fridge, gagging as he did. “The food in there didn’t go bad like that in one day.”
“No,” said June. “Whoever lived here was nasty as hell.”
The living room was in worse shape. There was a recliner in one corner and a television on a stand in front of the bay window beside the entrance. That comprised the entirety of the furniture. The rest of the room was covered in garbage that was knee-deep in some spots. A path had been cleared that went from the kitchen, past the recliner, to the hallway, but the rest of the room was littered with pizza boxes, beer cans, and a variety of other trash.
“God,” said June. “We stumbled into an episode of Hoarders.”
“I think we should leave,” said Porter. “You guys don’t want to stay here, do you?”
“Not forever,” said June, “but I’m sure we could deal with it for one night.”
“No,” said Porter. “This won’t work.”
“You sure?” asked Red.
“I’m positive,” said Porter as he kicked an empty beer can out of his way. “Let’s go.”
“You don’t even want to look around for supplies?” asked Red.
“No. I want to find someplace to stay before it gets dark. I don’t want to be driving around at night with our headlights on. That’s guaranteed to attract attention.”
June said, “If the aurora borealis is as bright as it was last night, we wouldn’t need headlights. It might actually be safer to drive at night, if we could manage it without headlights.”
“Too risky,” said Porter, brushing off her suggestion.
“Oh, excuse me,” said June. “King Porter has spoken.”
Porter groaned. “I’m not
trying to be dismissive. I’m sorry. It’s just that we’ve had bad luck driving ever since we left on this trip. I want to relax for a minute, and catch our breath.”
“If that’s the case, then let’s just stay here,” said Red. “It won’t be so bad if we clean it up a little. It’s not like we’re planning on living here or anything.”
“He’s right,” said June. “And I’m so hungry. Let’s finish checking out this place. If it’s safe, then let’s camp here for the night. We can figure out our next move in the morning.”
“You guys are seriously okay staying here?” asked Porter as he motioned at the garbage laying around.
“Like I said, it’s not like we’re planning on living here. It’s just for the night.”
“I vote to stay,” said June. “And to eat something.”
“Me too,” said Red. “Majority rules, King Porter.”
Day Two – 8:49 pm
Porter took a deep breath. It barely stank of refuse and mold in the kitchen anymore. June and Red had found some bleach buried in one of the closets, and did an admirable job of cleaning. They threw the dirty dishes in the backyard, and scrubbed the sink to ease the stench emanating from it. The grout had gone from black to merely brown, and the tiles were white again.
Porter focused on making dinner, which consisted of a vegan diet of fresh vegetables that they’d taken from Abraham’s daughter. When June and Red complained about the lack of meat, Porter explained that they needed to eat all the fresh supplies that would rot before breaking into the preserved meats. After a bit of moaning, Porter agreed to open a can of chili, which they all greedily shared.
June was sitting on the floor, her back against the newly clean fridge, eating a pear. Red was on the counter, his legs dangling from the side. Porter was at the seventies-style, white top and chrome legged kitchen table, sitting on a wobbly chair of the same style.
“Water’s going to be the most important thing to find,” said Porter absently, as if it was a piece of a conversation he’d been having with someone else.
“Huh?” asked Red.
“Water,” said Porter. “That’s the biggest challenge. You could get lucky and get rain, but you can’t rely on luck. I bet there’s a well around here somewhere. If not a well, then there’s got to be a water reservoir – maybe in the barn. That’s a big field out there. He had to of watered it somehow.”
“We’ve got plenty of water still,” said June as she held up one of the water bottles they’d taken from Maggie’s car.
“That won’t last,” said Porter. “We’ll have to find another source around here.”
“We’re just planning on staying here for the night,” said Red. “Right?”
“I don’t know,” said Porter. “We’ve got to figure that out.”
“I think we should try driving at night with our headlights off. Look outside,” said June. The shimmering green aurora borealis had faded from the night before, but it was still strong enough to send a glow through the windows. “We couldn’t drive real fast, but we could still drive. And that way we wouldn’t be seen from miles away like we can be during the day.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” said Red.
“Maybe tomorrow night,” said Porter. “But I think we could all use some sleep tonight.”
“If I can get to sleep,” said June. “Last night I barely got any. I’d kill for a full eight hours.”
“You know me,” said Red with a smirk. “I’ll sleep like a baby.”
“Like always,” said Porter.
“I found some blankets and pillows that aren’t completely disgusting,” said June. “We can lay them out in here. I don’t know about you guys, but I want to stay in our clean kitchen as much as possible.”
“Same here.” Red motioned to the living room and beyond and said, “There’s no way I’m sleeping in that pigsty.”
Porter got up to leave and said, “I’m going to look around the farm and see if I can find anything useful.”
“Want any help?” asked Red.
“No, that’s okay.”
Porter left through the back door and was greeted by a gust of cool air. The sun had set, and the wind coming off the mountains had a chill to it that was a taste of what the coming Winter had in store.
He gazed up at the ribbons of blue and green light that shimmered in the atmosphere. They were weaker than the night before, but still beautiful. The dimmer borealis allowed the stars to show through like glitter amidst the display, and Porter was reminded of a gaudy shawl tossed up into the air, left to drift in the breeze.
The car in the driveway had already been stripped, but Porter wanted to check for gas. He flipped open the cap, and then went to the truck to retrieve a hose they’d taken from Maggie’s car. Shortly after, he discovered that the car on blocks was empty, and he tossed the hose back into the bed of the truck. Next, he headed for the barn.
The irrigation wheel behind the barn was a hopeful sign. Porter knew it had to be fed by a sizeable reservoir, and there was a good chance it was in the barn since there were no signs of animals on the property.
“That’s what I’m looking for,” said Porter as he opened the barn door and discovered a massive water reservoir on a trailer chassis. The barn was strewn with tools and pieces of wrecked farm equipment with all the same care as the pizza boxes and beer cans in the living room. There was an alarming amount of rusted metal poking out, like the teeth of dead predators ready to claim a final victim.
Porter found a work bench, and searched the myriad junk until he found a working marker. He took the marker over to the reservoir and started writing in large letters on the side.
‘PURIFY BEFORE DRINKING.’
‘EITHER BOIL OR PUT IN 1 TEASPOON OF BLEACH PER 10 GALLO…’
He was interrupted by footsteps crunching on the gravel driveway. He quickly pocketed the marker, but was caught before he could step away from the reservoir.
June appeared at the door and said, “Hey Porter.”
“Hi,” he said with a guilty wave.
“What’re you up to?”
He turned and slapped his palm against the reservoir. “I found some water. I was writing instructions on it.” He took the marker back out of his pocket and finished what he’d been writing. “In case someone else finds it after we’re gone. You’ve got to be careful about drinking water like this. Sometimes they use waste water for irrigation. You’ve got to purify it if you plan on drinking it.”
“Oh okay.” She walked carefully into the barn with a thin blanket around her shoulders that she clasped tight, as if cocooning herself within. “Hey, I wanted to apologize.”
“For what?”
“For how I acted earlier – at the highway. I was being a total bitch, and I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. I know you were just doing what you thought was right.”
“I should’ve talked to you guys about it first,” said Porter. “The whole thing was messed up.”
“I’ve never seen anything like that before. I guess I’m seeing a lot of new things lately. Everything’s so fucked up. I just… I felt bad for what I said to you. You know, about Mary. That was shitty of me.”
“It’s okay. We’re all a bit tense.”
“Even still, I try not to be like that. I try and fail a lot, but I try.” She gave a quiet laugh at her expense.
“I’ve done things today that’ll haunt me for a long, long time,” said Porter. “Maybe I deserved to get yelled at a little.”
“Fair enough,” she said. “Then let’s agree to be friends again. What do you say? Deal?”
“Deal.”
She walked towards him and slipped a hand free of her blanket. They shook hands, and then she got on the tips of her toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. Her upper lip touched his cheek, and the lower pressed into his beard. It was a surprisingly intimate gesture that caught Porter off guard.
“Be careful in here,” she said as she turned to leave. “Don’t get tetanus or any
thing.”
“I’ll be careful. Hey, one more thing,” he said as if desperate for her to stay.
She turned back to him, the glow of the borealis created a silhouette of her thin frame and cast a long shadow that nearly stretched to him. “Yeah?”
“After what happened at the highway, you asked why Mary left me. Did Red tell you?”
“No,” said June. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m…”
“It’s okay. I was just curious if Red told you what happened.”
“No, he didn’t say anything. He told me it was a long story, and that I shouldn’t bring it up anymore.”
“It’s not a long story,” said Porter, and then paused for a moment as he considered if he should continue. “Mary…” He stopped himself. A mix of shame and despair stole the desire for complete honesty. “She wasn’t happy, and hadn’t been for a long time. We were trying to work it out, but things got messy. She left, but it’s not because I was mean to her, or hit her, or anything like that. I’m not that sort of guy. I can be a pain in the ass sometimes, as you know, but I’m not a bad person. I swear.”
“I know you’re not.”
She stayed there, the aurora at her back, as if sensing the need to linger to ease his loneliness. He wanted her there, and the yearning was a painful reminder of what he’d lost – not just when Mary left, but much earlier; back when she stopped caring.
The damage of a failed marriage can take years to fully realize.
June sounded uncomfortable as she said, “I’m going to go check on Red. He was searching through all the crap in the bedroom to see if he could find anything useful.”
“Okay,” said Porter. “I’ll keep searching out here. And if you two want to get some sleep, go for it. I’ll take first watch tonight.”
“Sounds good. Thanks.”
“And one more thing,” said Porter. “Do me a favor and, if something happens to me, take care of Red. He’s a good guy.”
“I will,” she said with a contorted smile, as if confused by the statement.
He watched her leave, and thought of Mary.
