by Jack Blaine
I’ve never seen that look on her face before. She looks like nobody better mess with her, like she could make you regret it if you did. It’s kind of sexy.
She turns and holds the door open, and I don’t have to be asked twice.
The place looks nothing like it did the night of Lara’s party. The wall of windows is covered with blankets and plastic. The largest couch is covered with a tangle of sheets, and the fireplace’s glass cover is open, the gas flame blazing. There are only a couple of lights on, dim lamps that cast a warm glow on the room but don’t penetrate the blankets on the windows. On the chair closest to the fireplace, a girl is huddled under a blanket. She has the darkest circles under her eyes that I have ever seen.
“Kath.” Lara speaks to the girl gently, as though she’s talking to a spooked horse. “This is Nick. Remember? I told you about him.”
Kath focuses on me slowly and smiles. “The boy from the party,” she whispers.
Lara nods, blushing a little. “That’s right, Kath.”
Tank runs all around the place, sniffing. He finally settles on one of the couches and rests his head on his paws. I can tell he’s beat, but he keeps his eyes open, watching to see that everything is safe. I see Kath watching him.
“That’s Tank. He won’t hurt you.”
“Damn right he won’t, or I’ll drop him.” Zeke is locking the door. Once he’s got all the deadbolts done, he pushes a credenza in front of it. “I locked up the stairwell door again too, in case anybody cares. That cloth wadding is really helping to hold the golf club in the handles better.”
“That’s great, Zeke. That was a good idea you had.” Lara reaches out for me, and I can’t believe she is standing in front of me, alive. I take her hand, and she leads me toward the balcony. “I’m going to show Nick around. Can you guys finish the last of the lunch prep?”
Zeke just grunts, but Kath smiles that slow smile and hops up. “Sure. Come on, Zeke.” She tries to take his hand, but he just brushes past her and stalks into the kitchen. Kath’s smile disappears, but she follows him. I wonder if they’re a couple.
Lara parts the plastic sheet hanging in front of the sliding glass door and opens the door, and we go out on the balcony. It doesn’t feel like the night of the party, that’s for sure. The air is frigid. I wonder if it’s just going to keep getting colder and colder with no sun.
“What’s up with Bozo in there?”
“Zeke?” She shrugs. “He’s been through a lot. We all have.” She falls silent and stares out at the city.
I look too. “Not much like the last time we were here, is it?” The plumes of smoke Morton and I saw from the freeway are bigger and blacker up close, inky stains against the murky sky. Half the buildings are dark, and weirdest of all, there is very little traffic noise. I hear distant yelling, the sound of some sort of metal crashing against metal, a gunshot. But no city buses, no cabs. No traffic.
“It’s really scary out there, Nick. People are killing each other for scraps of food or clothing. They killed my brother, Brian.” Her voice is soft, but I can hear the pain in it.
I’m stunned. I don’t even know what to say to her, so I just take her hand and hold it tight. She looks up at me, her lip trembling, and I think she’s going to burst into tears, but she grits her teeth and pulls it together. Something hard passes over her face, and she turns back to the cityscape. “That’s how I met Zeke and Kath. Zeke saved my life that night.” She takes a deep breath, and I can tell she’s not seeing the city that’s laid out before her. She’s seeing something else, something horrible. “We were trying to get out. Brian thought it would be safer at our country house, and since Mom and Dad were still—are still—in Europe, we figured there was no reason to stay here. We’d packed what we could and we were getting into Brian’s car in the garage. They came out of nowhere. We heard them running before we saw them . . . you know how underground garages always echo? I don’t think I’ll ever get that sound of them running toward us out of my head.
“There were four of them. One grabbed me by the hair and held me. They dragged Brian out of the car and started hitting him. One of them hit him with a baseball bat across the head, like he was swinging for a ball. And Brian . . . the next moment he was gone.” She narrows her eyes at whatever she’s seeing. “I’m glad he was gone so quickly. They . . . they kept hitting him for a long time. And then they turned their attention to me.
“That’s when Zeke showed up. He shot two of them before they knew what was happening. I managed to kick the one who had hold of me, and Kath jumped on him. He finally ran. Zeke told the last guy to run too, or die. He ran.”
I squeeze her hand. “I’m so sorry, Lara. So sorry.” There isn’t anything else to say. Less than three weeks ago, I was here at a party. Her brother was alive and well. My friend Charlie was geeking it up. My dad was home waiting for me. I can’t believe how things have changed.
She nods. And then she says something that doesn’t go with the girl I knew, the high school prom queen, the candy-pink lip gloss aficionado. She says, “I just wish Zeke had shot them all.”
Chapter 20
When we go back in, there’s no sign of Kath or Zeke. Tank is still on the couch, but now he’s fast asleep. It’s a lot warmer than outside on the balcony, and I’m thankful for the heat coming from the fireplace.
“You guys still have gas? And power.” I nod toward the lamps.
“Not dependably. We lose the gas at least twice a day now, and one day it didn’t come on at all. It got really cold in here. The power is iffy too. And the water is pumped up here with electricity, which is what really worries me. We can’t live long without that. We do collect rainwater, but it’s not enough.”
It’s starting to sink in to me how screwed we all might be—and how clear it is that staying here really isn’t an option.
“Let’s see how lunch is coming,” says Lara, heading for the kitchen.
Zeke and Kath are standing side by side, comparing cans of food. They are a couple, judging by Zeke’s hand on Kath’s waist.
“What do you think of green beans?” Kath holds up a can for Zeke to see.
“Sounds delectable, baby.” He’s smiling. He actually looks like a nice guy at this moment. At least, nicer than the snarling jerk who met me at the door.
“Is the menu decided?” Lara says it in her snootiest voice, like she’s planning a million-dollar wedding instead of talking about canned food.
“Yes, milady, the menu is ready. Shall we dine on the good china?” Kath smiles at Lara.
“Oh! Fancy. Sounds perfect.” Lara grabs some plates from a cupboard and points to a drawer. “Silverware is in there, Nick.” I grab some forks and spoons and we all gather in the living room to eat a lunch of canned ravioli and canned green beans and Pepsi by candlelight. Tank wakes up immediately when he smells the ravioli.
“Um, is there a place I can feed him? I have some dog food in my pack.”
Lara grabs a bowl from the kitchen and we settle Tank in a corner of the living room. He looks over occasionally while he’s inhaling his food, and I can tell he thinks the ravioli is a better deal.
When we’ve finished eating, Kath brings a box from the kitchen and shyly bestows it upon Lara. “I think this should be a celebration,” she says. “In honor of finding old friends.” She smiles at me.
“The Twinkies.” The reverence in Lara’s voice makes me smile. I watch her take individually wrapped snack cakes from the box. She places one in front of each of us, and even Zeke seems to defrost a bit more.
“We found these in the 7-Eleven on Broad Street,” he says. “It looked like it was totally looted, but Kath has a nose for Twinkies.” He winked at Kath across the coffee table. “She insisted we check out the back room, and there they were. Four completely unmolested Twinkies, just sitting in their box, waiting for us.”
“I heard these will last through a nuclear bomb,” says Kath as she licks the creamy filling from hers.
“I h
eard that too!” Lara and Kath giggle, and it’s almost like we’re all sitting around in the school cafeteria being dumb. Only we’re not, and we may never be again.
The girls seem to realize this too, because their giggles trail off. We all focus on our Twinkies for a little while.
“At least there’s no homework.” I know it’s a lame thing to say, but I just want to break the silence.
“Ugh. Chem lab.” Lara grimaces. “I always had to really study for that class.”
“I wonder if we’ll be going back to school in September.” Kath looks wistful. “I sort of miss it. Were you guys going to be seniors?”
Lara and I both nod.
“I was going to be a junior next year.” Kath wraps her arms around her knees. I notice Zeke isn’t saying anything.
“What about you, Zeke?”
He shrugs. “I dropped out in the middle of last year. It just seemed . . . pointless.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re probably one of those straight-A guys, right?” Zeke curls his upper lip at me. “It’s all easy for you, right?”
I let a moment pass before I answer. “I’d say I’m more like one of those B-minus guys, and I worked for those.” It’s only half a lie. Yeah, I’m a B-minus guy—when I’m lucky—but I’ve always earned my mediocre grades with the absolute minimum amount of work possible.
“Huh.” Zeke looks surprised. “I would have figured you for a brain.”
I just shrug. Lara doesn’t blow my cover. She just watches.
“School’s okay, but there are other things in life besides books.”
“Exactly,” says Zeke. “I just never got into it. And it was work, man. Always seemed to me that if I could get on at MacNally’s, I’d be better off than if I got a stupid diploma.”
“MacNally’s?”
“Construction. Now that I’m good at.” Zeke grinned.
“Wow.” I don’t have to fake being impressed. Those kinds of skills are likely going to matter a lot more in the future.
“I know,” says Kath. “Let’s play a board game. I know there’s Scrabble—”
“No Scrabble!” Zeke frowns.
“Okay, how about Trivial Pursuit?”
“How about poker?” Zeke grins. “Strip poker!”
I start to say we probably shouldn’t, just because I think that’s the gentlemanly thing to do, but Lara interrupts me.
“You’re on, baby!” She has a peculiar gleam in her eye. “Although you might need to refresh my memory on the rules.” She looks a little too innocent for me to believe her.
Zeke looks like a cat sucking on some feathers. “No problem.”
Lara jumps up. “I’ll grab the cards.” Kath and I both exchange a glance. I don’t think either of us is up for it. I don’t know why she’s hesitating, but I’m sort of embarrassed. I don’t really want to strip in front of Lara.
“Okay.” Lara comes back with a couple of decks. She drops them on the coffee table. “Rules—only tops come all the way off. Bottoms to your underwear.”
“What?” Zeke looks disappointed.
“Take it or leave it.” Kath is laughing. Now that the rules are clear, she seems more into it.
“We’ll take it, ladies,” I say, trying for a little levity myself. I have a feeling this is a bad idea.
“Okay, Zeke?” Lara raises her eyebrows at him.
“Okay.” He looks a little smug as he explains the rules.
Forty-five minutes later Zeke is wearing nothing but boxers and I’m down to my jeans. Kath has bare feet and is wearing a bra and her khakis. Lara hasn’t lost anything but a sock.
“She’s a shark.” I shake my head at Zeke.
He nods. “We’ve been had.” But he’s smiling. “I’m gonna declare myself the loser here, seeing as I have no wish to lose my boxers, and I’m freezing.” He picks up a throw off the couch and tosses it to Kath. In his best character-from-a-bad-Western voice, he says, “You must be freezing too, pretty lady.” He waggles his eyebrows at her and she laughs. She wraps the throw around her shoulders.
The gas fire pops out just then.
“Oh, damn.” Lara tries to act like it’s no big deal, but I can tell she’s nervous. “This happens. It always comes back on eventually.” She goes to the fireplace and turns off the gas. “Who wants first watch?”
“What’s the deal?” I’m not sure what she means.
“We can’t leave the gas turned on, because if it comes back and we haven’t lit it we’ll all die from the fumes. So we keep watch, and check every hour to see if it’s back on, with this.” She flicks one of those butane fireplace lights.
“I’ll take first watch.” It sounds easy enough.
“Nah.” Zeke shakes his head at me. “Time for you and me to go get some food.”
Chapter 21
As it turns out, Zeke means it’s time to go down to street level and see what we can find in the way of supplies. I really don’t want to go back down there, but it doesn’t feel like I can say no right now. We’ve reached a sort of détente playing poker, and I want to keep the good feeling going.
“It’ll be good—we’ll see how you make yourself useful.” Zeke tosses me a baseball bat. I catch it but lean it against a couch.
“I’ll stick with this, thanks,” I say, pulling my gun out of my back pocket. I don’t mention the second gun stashed in my backpack.
He shrugs. “Doesn’t matter to me, pal. I’d leave the dog here, though, unless you want him to be somebody’s dinner.”
Tank is snoring on the larger of the two couches, full of the last of his dog food and a small piece of Twinkie I snuck him. Charlie will be so pissed if I let anything happen to him. I hate to admit it, but I agree with Zeke—he has to stay here.
I turn to Lara. “Do you mind keeping an eye on him until I’m back?” Before the words are out of my mouth, she is already fussing over Tank, smoothing his fur and making little kissy faces at him.
“Of course not. But do you guys really have to go today, Zeke? It seems like we have enough food to last until at least tomorrow.”
“Better to get it now, before somebody else finds it. With Nick helping, I can get it all back here this time.” He throws me a couple of cloth grocery bags. “We found a whole stash of cans this morning, but we didn’t have enough bags with us to get them all back here.”
“Sounds like a plan.” I pat Tank, who is awake now, on the head. He doesn’t offer to get off the couch and come with us.
Kath follows us out to the landing; I think she’s coming with us until she removes the golf club and the cloth shoved in next to it from the door handle.
“We’ve worked out a system,” she says. “Whoever is staying checks every five minutes to see if whoever left is back and needs to be let in. Lara and I will keep checking until you’re back safe.”
“I came up with that. Keeps the hoodlums locked out.” Zeke looks pretty proud.
“Be careful,” says Kath. She says it to both of us, but her gaze lingers on Zeke. He nods, barely looking at her.
We start down the stairwell. Zeke makes a big deal of holding his gun in front of him and acting like he’s going to shoot anything that appears around the next corner. I realize I must have looked at least that dumb coming up these stairs. Our footsteps echo, and I hope that we would hear anyone else’s as clearly.
“You must be in great shape, Zeke. I thought these were going to kill me on the way up.”
He doesn’t look back at me. He goes down another two flights before he stops and turns to face me. “Listen, I don’t like the fact that you’re here. But you are, and according to Lara, you’re okay. Here’s a couple of things you need to know, though.” He leans in toward me until he’s about a foot from my face. I think I’m supposed to be intimidated.
“One. Don’t get funny with Lara. She’s been through a lot of shit. She doesn’t need you messing with her.”
I don’t say anything.
“Two. If
you get stupid down there and get yourself in trouble, don’t expect me to risk my ass for you. I won’t expect it from you, either.”
He steps back. It’s like he’s waiting for me to crumble into a spineless heap or something. I think he’s a little disappointed when I don’t.
“Anything else?” I’m starting to think I could get really sick of this guy.
He shakes his head. “Nada.”
We go past the lobby level to the garage. Zeke presses his ear to the door before he opens it a crack. When he’s satisfied the coast is clear, he motions for me to follow him. We run through the garage, each pointing our guns in front of us. At first I feel a little silly, like we’re playing at cops and robbers, but that disappears the instant we see our first thug.
We take him by surprise. He’s coming down the ramp that leads to the street, looking back over his shoulder, so he doesn’t spot us until Zeke is right on him. He starts to run back the way he came when he sees us, but Zeke has him by the hair and jams his gun into the guy’s temple.
“Dude!” I’m not sure if he’s going to just shoot him right there, or what. I know I’ve been packing a gun myself, but I never really thought I would use it.
Zeke ignores me. “You better run your scrawny little ass outta here, boy, and tell your friends this ain’t the place to be. Come back and you’re dead. Got it?” He jams the gun harder into the guy’s head.
“I got it.” The guy is nodding like a bobblehead.
“He’s just a kid, man.” I bet he isn’t more than thirteen years old.
Zeke snorts. “Why don’t you check this kid’s pockets?” When I don’t move, he snarls, “Check his pockets!”
He’s wearing a black leather jacket. When I get closer, I see a crescent moon stenciled on the leather with what looks like spray paint. The same symbol as the guy in the red Mustang. The guy who killed a man and a little boy for no apparent reason. I start to sweat.
“Hurry up,” Zeke says.
I check his right pocket and come up with two knives: a butcher knife and a switchblade. In his left pocket, I don’t know what I’m feeling—it’s soft and wrinkled, like a dried apricot. I pull it out and instantly drop it.
