by Logan Keys
“Shadier.” Luckman’s mood instantly darkened. Fueled by alcohol, his blood pressure rose when he thought about Holtz snatching his life preserver and running off. “But I don’t really want to talk about him. I’d rather drink another round. You want?”
The big Russian nodded, although Luckman almost took back his offer when German squinted at his bottle, holding it up to make sure it was empty, and taking extra-long to verify. Luckman shook his head, grabbed German’s bottle and took it to the recycling bin. Then he told Greg, “Hey man, I can buy some beer or hit up a store? I don’t want to drink you dry.”
Greg laughed and motioned for Luckman to follow him outside, where he had another fridge with a glass door. Inside was wall to wall beers and mixed drinks of every kind. “I’m stocked up. Always.”
“Nice.” Luckman thanked Greg then grabbed him and German another beer before using an opener on the side of the fridge to pull off the tops. A loud whoosh made him pause, and he slowly turned to face the ocean. The waves seemed louder now, but that could just be paranoia setting in. It was night, so he could only see what the city lit, and it wasn’t much. They probably preferred to actually see the stars here. But still, the light reflected in the harbor enough that he could see the swell was raging now. It was smacking into the shore with a vengeance.
Otherwise, the ocean looked innocent enough, and snow fell, raining softly from the sky, but nothing that was alarming. All seemed well. Which wasn’t what he’d expected. And so he had no plan for a normal night with a group of strangers. He didn’t even know how to pretend everything was swell. As if the weather knew he was underestimating it, the wind increased until he had to shield himself from it ripping into his eyes. Luckman turned away from it, feeling more at ease with that strangeness than the calmness that had been seconds before.
As Luckman stepped inside, bringing in a bunch of flakes with him, he said, “Sorry about that.”
Holtz noticed his hesitation at the door first. Luckman was deep in thought once again, a moment of clarity gifted from the bottles of beer sloshing fuzzily in his gut. He was warm and loose, but his brow pulled down low because his brain was trying still to compartmentalize the death and shock and categorize—in a scientific way, which was pointless—his emotions.
Luckman realized that while running from the killing cold, he’d been all right. He’d been capable of coping. But now that he was standing still, he was facing an existential crisis of great magnitude. How long did they all have? And what did any of this matter?
Panic gripped him until Holtz walked over and patted Luckman on the back. “You all right, buddy? I know I’m still shook up myself, but Greg here offered us all rooms as long as we need them. Maybe you should go lie down.”
“There’s the couch,” Greg said. “Four rooms. The girls have two of the rooms, so that leaves two more.”
“Dibs,” Holtz said with a laugh before taking a swig of his beer and wiping his mouth. Greg laughed with him. Two peas in a pod is all Luckman could think when he saw them joking together. Probably spent their college days pulling girl’s bra straps and having chugging contests.
“I’ll take the couch,” German said but Luckman shook his head. “I can,” he offered but German was already sitting down and pulling off his shoes.
“You need a bed. A big fluffy pillow. There’s probably a massager in there and everything. You sensitive types need that.” He grinned at Luckman.
“We can’t all be big Russian bears,” Luckman said.
“You joke, but your women…” German winked across the room at Terry and Danielle. “They like a bear to cuddle with.”
“Okay,” Greg said awkwardly, “I’ll show you to your room, Luckman. I’ll put some blankets in there. You,” he pointed at Holtz, “You’re staying up and drinking with me until the sun rises. We only live once!”
Holtz grinned. “And kicking your ass at darts.”
They both bellowed with laughter and the three women shared a glance and one shrugged. They had gone from “Let’s pretend the world isn’t ending” to “We probably didn’t give a crap in the first place” type of fun. Luckman envied them that level of ignorance.
Luckman told German, “You okay with these guys out here? I want to hit the shower.”
“That’s so thoughtful of you, Lucky. I think I can handle myself with these twits.”
Luckman checked to make sure no one had heard, and by the time he glanced back, German was laid out with his arm over his eyes. Luckman thought he was playing a joke, but sure enough, the big Russian began to snore.
Shaking his head, Luckman found where Greg had gone to make up his bedroom. Once he was alone, he peeled off clothes he’d been in since going overboard. They were dried with salt still in them. Greg came back and spoke through the door, “Holtz said you might need some clothes too, buddy. Hold tight; I’m going to find you both some sweats.”
Luckman guessed Greg couldn’t be that bad after all. He’d given them a place to stay and was feeding them and even giving them his clothes. Luckman turned on the shower and almost groaned when he felt that the water was hot. He jumped in and scrubbed himself clean a few times before leaning under the spray with a shudder of ecstasy. He turned the water to scalding. How long had it been since he’d taken a hot shower? It felt like forever.
And he knew he better enjoy this, that German was right in one way. The killing cold was moving in his direction. When it hit there was nothing left behind. He would relish the moment because it might never come again.
He didn’t want to steal all the hot water, so he finally shut it off with reluctance and toweled off, checking himself out in the mirror. Danielle wasn’t a bad looking woman, so what did she see in him? He appeared battle worn, marked with bruises and cuts, and he still had frostbite burns on his hands and nose, aggravated by his time in the ocean. His face was patchy with broken blood vessels, pale from lack of sun, and his blond hair was a shade grayer than last time he’d checked as if it had frozen permanently.
Luckman smiled and supposed he had a nice face. Most of the women he’d gone out with had said so. But his eyes were bloodshot and clouded with exhaustion, and surrounding the blue were dark smudges.
“Yeah. You’re a real catch, Lucky,” he said to himself with a laugh.
When he exited the bathroom, he found sweats and a shirt. He pulled them both on, and the soft fabric hugged his skin rather than scratched. He could cry with joy over such a small comfort. When he tested the bed, he bit down on his lip to keep from making more noise. No doubt the women could hear him in the next room and wondered what was going on. A memory-foam mattress and silk sheets. He must have died and gone to heaven.
He laid down and the softness cradled his sore body, the warmth from the heavy covers adding a new level of perfect. Luckman crashed, and he crashed hard.
Chapter Six
New York City, New York
The man’s name was Jensen and he had about twenty people inside of the building, hiding. He was the security guard for the office, and he’d snuck his family and others inside once they’d realized their apartment complex was being targeted by thugs who would “run the city before long” as Jensen put it.
“You two headed for the hospital?” he asked, probably seeing many trying to make it through the snow. At Michelle’s nod, he gave her a knowing look. “Lots of people gonna be down there waiting for help.”
“I know.” But she had to try, and Michelle squashed down the panic at the thought of not getting the medicine she needed.
Jensen must have seen her worry, and he figured it was for Reese. “What’s your friend need?”
Reese and Michelle spoke at the same time, although Reese sounded like a frog. “She’s not my friend.”
Jensen grinned a big toothy show of teeth. “Well you two… non-friends… look like you’re in a pickle.” He glanced at his group who all were bundled up and sitting in a circle amidst sleeping bags. Michelle noticed that they had no heat in
side. A few were wrapped up in their sleeping bags trying to stay warm. “We have some things back here if you need them. Dana can help you. This is my daughter, she’s a nurse.”
A dark-skinned woman with braids that touched her elbow, came over to look at Reese. Quietly, Dana asked Reese questions before she took her temperature and even put her ear up to Reese’s chest. “I don’t have my stethoscope,” Dana said. “But it sounds like pneumonia to me. Just hearing you cough, you sound like you’re overly congested. And badly. You’d better get her to the hospital,” she said to Michelle with an urgency that made Reese’s head snap up.
“I’m right here. You can talk to me.”
Dana and Michelle shared a knowing look and then behind Reese’s back, they smiled at each other’s eye roll.
Reese had another coughing fit before she asked, “Dana?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever work for a Frank Myer?”
Dana looked confused. “I have,” she answered. “He ran Lenox Hill. How do you know him?”
“Never mind that. If any of the hospitals are open, he’s probably there. He’s that type of person. And I’ve done more for that man’s career than anyone else. With donations, Cybercorp opened a new wing in Lenox just for the asking.” Reese gave Michelle’s surprised glance a dry look. “See. We weren’t always evil. Anyway. Frank will give you whatever you need,” she finished.
“Okay,” Michelle said. “I’ll go. It’s not far.”
Reese pointed at Dana then waved her away, used to everyone doing what she said. “Take her,” she told Michelle. “Tell her what she needs for me and he’ll give it to her.”
Dana thought for a moment and then nodded. Her father pulled her aside and they argued heatedly. Michelle heard him harshly whisper, “Risking your neck for these strangers.”
Dana answered him in a normal volume, “I’ll ask him for extra of everything they have. For us. What if we get sick, huh? We have nothing here. Who knows how long this will last, papa. This is smart.”
Jensen seemed afraid to let his daughter go. He gripped her shoulders tightly, and every emotion moved over his face before he finally pulled his hands away. “Okay. Let me get your jacket.”
He helped her into it and then hugged her. “You be careful now.”
She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I will.”
**
Michelle and Dana stepped out into the cold, bundled up to the nose, but it felt like Michelle was naked as far as the chill was concerned. As they walked, Michelle took in the empty streets with new eyes. Someone could be waiting around every corner, people like the ones that had killed the officers.
She reached into her jacket pocket and felt the heft and cold of the gun’s metal. For some reason, it was comforting. As bare as New York was, it was an eerie sight to see it empty.
“How long have you all been in that building?” she asked Dana.
“Not long,” the young woman answered. “Daddy’s wanting to move down south, but we aren’t sure how just yet. We have a passenger van. We plan to take as many as will fit to where it’s warmer. But…gas will be sparse. We don’t have enough food or water. Our apartment complex became a warzone almost right after the power went out. People tryin’ to stay warm.”
Michelle nodded. “Yes. And things are going to get worse, I think. Going south might be smart.” She smiled at Dana who smiled back. “If you guys were able to get what you…” Michelle trailed off when she saw two figures ahead on the same sidewalk they were on.
“Um,” Dana said, staring over at the change of expression. “Michelle.”
“Let’s cross the street,” was all that Michelle could force out of her locked down jaw. She just wanted peace for one moment. Was that too much to ask? They both moved quickly across the street, heads down, arms linked together, but still, they were noticed. In the empty white, two women crab walking away, were mighty noticeable.
A voice called after them. It bounced off the buildings like a shot, making them freeze in their tracks. “Hey!”
Michelle watched as the man and another jogged across the road through the snow, the second one slipping on the ice before catching up. Even if she ran as fast as she could, they’d still cut her off, as they were ahead.
Finally, she got her bearings. “Just keep walking,” she muttered at Dana, and the two marched forward as if no one had spoken.
“Maybe we should…”
Michelle tightened her grip on Dana and the woman went silent. There was no way she was turning around and going back. She hadn’t come this far to leave without the medicine.
They both had to stop when the men stood like two walls of stiff winter clothing in front of their path on the new side they’d crossed to. This was the only way passable on the sidewalk. Michelle finally met eyes with the taller more talkative one. “I remember you,” he said flashing a gold tooth that she remembered as well. “You were in the jail. You and that other lady.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to shout, “Did you kill those cops?!” but then what?
She wasn’t sure if he’d been with them and what could she do? This wasn’t the old world where she could yell, “Someone arrest this man! He’s a murderer.” She couldn’t even take mental notes for work, to write the harrowing story of how she’d survived a brush with homicidal maniacs. No. She had to grit and bear his regard as if this was the thing to do. Pretend it was perfectly normal to be accosted on the street. And though she felt fear, simmering beneath that, she felt leagues of anger.
“Yup.” Michelle waited for him to say more but he simply stood and stared. He had dark eyes and oily hair. His friend looked like he was detoxing off whatever he’d been able to get his hands on before all of this fell apart. Now he was probably the cleanest he’d ever been, but meaner for it. He was sweating, even in the cold.
The taller one jutted out his chin. “Where you headed? Maybe we can walk with you. Is’ not safe.” He snorted and spit a giant wad of something into the snow, and Michelle forced herself not to look. Her empty stomach had been begging her for food before, but now it was satisfied to be empty after that display.
“Hospital,” she bit out. “We’re fine.”
“Yes.” He grinned “Fine is the right word. What do you say Herc, do we help these ladies get to their destination?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Dana said, and Michelle met her steady gaze. Right then she knew she was lucky to have such a stalwart ally. Someone, who like her, probably lived in a not so great part of town and took pride in the fact that she’d not become a victim…yet.
“It would be our pleasure,” Herc said, drawing the word out until Michelle’s nose wrinkled.
The first one decided to try another route. He held out his hand. “I’m Jefferey.” It dawned on Michelle this was exactly what they talked about all those times in self-defense. You would be too polite, too afraid to be rude, right up until they slit your throat. It had happened a million times a day. Women who were too afraid to offend a guy and then when he attacked he’d had the advantage. She’d made it clear she didn’t want help. He wasn’t hearing her. Now she was just rude if she didn’t shake his hand.
Be rude, her mind whispered. Set your boundary.
“We don’t need help,” Michelle said firmly. “Let us through”, she demanded.
Jefferey held his hand up, smiling wider, and moved aside. “All right. All right.”
Michelle didn’t want to walk that closely to him, and again she knew it was rude, but rude just might save her life.
“Dana,” she said, grabbing Dana’s arm as they stepped down onto the street and made their way across once again. They walked fast, and she didn’t hear anyone following. Michelle begged herself not to glance backwards, but she did once, and saw Jefferey watching them with a determined set to his shoulders that made her shudder.
***
Dana and Michelle went as fast as they could toward the hospital without slipping on the ice. When th
e building appeared, she was almost weak with relief. She sagged like someone pulled out all of the tension, her muscles sore from being overly tight. But they had arrived. They would find Reese’s friend. They would get the medicine.
Together the two women squeezed in through the door, bypassing the lines waiting outside despite the angry shouts and calls about cutting. The place was full of people, crammed like sardines elbow to elbow. More lines weaved down hallways or stacked in the waiting area. Every room was packed full of people with the flu and injuries of every type imaginable.
Michelle found a nurse and gave them the name of Reese’s friend. “Yes, he’s here.” She gave a strange look, but when the nurse saw that Michelle wasn’t budging and that they would wait for him, she went to fetch him.
An older gentleman with gray hair and tired eyes made his way over. “Frank…?” Michelle asked, and he nodded, obviously trying to place her. “I’m here because Reese Leeward said you would help us.”
He frowned. “Is she hurt?”
“Sick,” Dana said. “I think it’s pneumonia.”
A flare of recognition brightened his eyes when he looked at Dana. “Uh, we’d need to see her for a proper diagnosis.”
“Dana is a nurse. She worked with you before.” Michelle added, “Reese is too sick to travel.”
“I see,” Frank said, and then Michelle brought out the list of items. “We need this stuff too,” she said hoping against hope that she hadn’t risked it all in vain.
“Reese really sent you?” he asked, and she nodded before putting a hand on Frank’s arm.
“Please. You have to help us.”
“All right,” he said after a moment. “Wait here.”
Michelle took in the misery while they waited. This place was running on generators too, but how long would that last? How long would any of this last? And once it stopped, then what?
