The Long Way To Reno

by Mix, Michelle

  Once I realized it wasn’t going to budge, I slapped my hair from my face, trying to catch my breath. I looked around myself – at the half-empty shelves, the single bulb above, the cement floor – no way out but the way I’d come in.

  I heard more muffled shouts, Emmy’s high pitched screams and several gunshots. More screams and shouts, and horror made me still. I had no idea what was going on out there, but the repeated thumps, the heavy shake of the wall with the light switch told me something was happening.

  With all the weaponry Tom had on him, he had more than enough to kill the guys, Brandon. Emmy wasn’t enough to fight him off, and my mind conjured up situations that I had never imagined before. I pounded on the door again, screaming hoarsely for the two that I knew, hearing more gunshots – further into the house, further away from me.

  I pressed against the door, straining to hear something. Hoping to hear familiar voices, and to have the door unlocked. But minutes passed. Many of them. And I heard nothing. I started to shake, calling out names other than Tom’s, hoping to hear somebody answer back. But it was silent.

  My hands shook violently, and emotion rose up in me. I began banging on the door once more, screaming Emmy’s name. I needed to hear from her, to know that she was okay. When using my fists wasn’t enough, I turned, searching for something to use against the door. There was nothing but huge cans of tomato sauce, applesauce, useless things -! I grabbed a can and bashed it against the handle repeatedly, thinking I could break the thing somehow.

  When that didn’t work, I tossed it aside, then looked at the hinges. Of course, they were outside the room. I hollered myself hoarse for somebody to answer me, and heard nothing in response.

  When I realized I wasn’t going to hear anything, or that nobody was coming to the pantry door to let me out, I felt crushing defeat overwhelm me. There was nothing I could do to escape, and I had no way of knowing what was happening out there. I sank against the door and started to cry – hoarse, raspy cries.

  I was never going to make it to Reno.

  Chapter Eleven

  Hours later, I heard the door lock shift loudly, and I looked up to see Harley open the door wide, looking winded. I had just resigned myself to rotting away in the pantry for the rest of my life, so I was excited and happy that he was there. I squealed and jumped on him with a tight hug, searching over his shoulder for Emmy. I then wrinkled my nose at the smells that hit me.

  He hastily pushed me away, catching his breath. He had a spotlight in one hand, and some snow on his shoulders. He also smelled heavily of smoke, oil and body odor, and while all three were offensive, what was bewildering was the first two's presence. I decided not to judge just yet, because I was rescued.

  "Everyone okay?" I asked tentatively. "I was so scared about – "

  "We're fine. Did he hurt you?" he asked, shining the light on my face and blinding me.

  "I'm good. Let's go. Does Emmy have the keys?"

  "Yes. We're taking the road back to Lockwood, and from there, we can get into Sparks," he said, his tone full of relief as he lowered the spotlight and began leading the way out of the house. "We had to turn around – sorry it took so long."

  "You are forgiven," I said cheerfully, following him out the backdoor. The truck that had been sitting near the barn was rumbling, and Nate, Alex, and Emmy were crammed in the front seat. I was apprehensive about sitting in some guy's lap, looking up at the sky and watching snow fall gently. Then I looked back at him, noticing the care he was taking on his left leg. "Why are you limping?"

  "I'm just…really tired, okay?" he said with a heavy exhale, gesturing at me to get in while he took off his pack and tossed it into the back, near the cab.

  Emmy squealed a happy greeting, scooting over Nate's lap to Alex. While some blushing and awkward mumblings occurred, I looked back at Harley with a frown.

  "If you slow us down because you're all busted up, I'm going to be hella pissed, Harley," I threatened. "I didn't come all this way to die just because you're hurt."

  "Your concern is absolutely thrilling to hear, Edith," he said with a roll of his eyes and another gesture at the truck. I looked suspiciously at his leg once more – maybe he sprained something, because I wasn't sure where he wasn't bending it. There were no blood marks, nothing torn…

  "Damn, I've been relying on you this entire time, so don't fuck it up, now," I said, climbing in. "I need to get to Reno, it's right there!"

  "You are such a - !"

  "I swear, I will slap you if you call me a 'bitch'," I threatened, cramming myself against Nate while he scooted as uncomfortably close as possible to Alex.

  "Who freaking – how do you exist in your own selfishness?" Harley exclaimed, climbing in and causing a series of grunts and mutters as we all crammed tightly together in the seat. I noticed him wincing and cradling his knee once he banged it off the door. "Seriously, is this how you've – ?"

  "Get over yourself! You have just not been in the presence of someone like me, so you don't know how to – "

  "I never thought that you would even - !"

  "Oh my God, both of you, shut up!" Emmy exclaimed over both of us, as Harley shuffled around with a tight expletive and a grunt, and I had to adjust my ass over his thigh and allow him room to touch the stick shift. "Quit fighting all the time! Let's just get to Reno, okay? Can we get there without you two fighting?"

  "I just think that you should give him a little respect," Alex interrupted, looking at me from over Nate. "He didn't have to come back here after you. Not after all that."

  "I'm not impressed," I said huffily. "Whatever he had to do – if we'd left earlier like I said, it would've never happened the way it did."

  "Can you just be grateful for what did happen?" Harley asked between gritted teeth, the truck jerking backward as he reversed.

  "All I said, all I asked, was if he were hurt," I exclaimed before the others could talk. "Because if he's hurt – because he's limping like a gimp on tequila - !"

  "You are really – you have to consider what he did to come back!" Nate exclaimed in this shrilly voice. He had makeup smeared around his eyes, and this was distracting.

  "It doesn't matter! I already regret it!" Harley snapped, our heads jerking as we began moving forward.

  "You would! Because it's your fault in the first place," I muttered, crossing my arms tightly and glaring out the windshield.

  "You're so mean to him!" Emmy exclaimed, reaching out to jerk on my hair.

  "Ow!"

  "Stop that, Emmy! She might give you something nasty, considering what she does to stay ahead," Harley muttered. It took me a few moments to realize he was talking about Benson.

  "You're such an asshole! You think I did something with him!" I exclaimed, glaring at him. "How is that even relevant right now?"

  "I didn't say anything, I just - !"

  "This is why I won't even consider anything with you!"

  "You're an insecure child that can't even rescue herself! So then you bite the hand that feeds you!"

  "I hate Nine Inch Nails!"

  "What - ? What does that even - ? I don't – you can't even give a valid argument to anything! You just blurt out whatever's on - !"

  "All of you, stop!" Alex shouted, making us wince.

  Both of us glared out the windshield. I tried to lean on Nate to avoid touching Harley, but this was impossible. So I elbowed Harley to get comfortable, and he clutched the steering wheel tightly with both hands, glaring at me. Nate whistled low, straining away while Emmy glared at me.

  I did feel bad, actually. I felt bad because I was tired, hungry, I went through this entire scare where I could've been rotting away in a small room without rescue – my emotions and state were frazzled. I couldn't think normally. So I reacted the way I did because…Harley was right. I am an insecure child. I didn't know what the hell I was doing. I relied on others because…that was how I got through life.

  I wanted to cry because I felt so bad. But I glared out the winds
hield and battled the urge. My eyes watered and my chin trembled. I was determined not to cry. I knew I wouldn't stop once I let it loose. I blinked heavily and tried to think of gross things. Like the nurse getting crushed by that truck. People at the warehouse getting eaten. Stuff like that.

  All of us were quiet on the drive back towards Lockwood, and as we approached the small valley with its trailers, I noticed a car fire ahead. It was an ugly Buick that burned, sending a pillar of black smoke to the snow above. Since no one seemed concerned about it, I tried not to give it another thought, judging the others' reactions to it from a sideways glance. Emmy looked wistful, Alex gave a nod, and Nate stared straight ahead. I wanted to ask what that was all about, but I figured this was what held them up earlier. I wondered if Tom was in there, and I really hoped that he was. From the way Harley smelled, it was probably him that burned the asshole.

  I looked at him from the corner of my eye, trying to picture this scrawny dork setting a man on fire for the safety of the others. All I saw was a tired dude with ashes on his temple and a bump on his bottom lip – it couldn't be herpes because it looked more like a cut.

  Admittedly, I did wonder what he did to get back to the house. But my selfish pride refused to ask. I focused instead on what we were driving up to.

  We approached Lockwood cautiously. The soldiers were probably still in the area. I began nibbling at my fingernails because I wasn't sure what to think, looking through the darkness with trouble, unsure of what to look for. All of us were very tense, unable to move as everything was given a worried examination.

  "You think they're gone?" I had to ask, my voice absurdly loud within the tense silence.

  "They should be," Harley answered automatically, then looked pissed because he looked as if he'd forgotten he was mad at me.

  "When they were hittin' on us on the freeway, there wasn't too many of them," Alex said, his young voice reminding us of his age. "They was all wearing black, and riding ATVs. Like they came over the hill, from Spanish Springs."

  "They weren't planning on staying here," Harley mentioned. "They were heading into Reno, for the camps. I'm hoping they're gone."

  "Guess we'll find out soon, huh?" I murmured, cringing at the thought of being an open target.

  Harley maneuvered the truck slowly through one of the main roads. I stared at the dark trailers around us suspiciously, looking for some kind of movement. But as we reached the road near the Sheriff's office, we saw only the pile of blackened rubble that I assumed were the other survivors. I felt awful staring at that – I could see the faces of the other people in the trailer, grateful for a bed, for food, for warmth – now they were dead, because the people paid to protect them killed them.

  I swallowed tightly. I wondered if Benson and Sandy regretted what they had to do. Could they just not do something if they were told? In this life of new lawlessness, did they have to follow orders? Couldn't they just run on their own conscious?

  It was such a shame. Benson should've slept with me.

  We passed Lockwood, taking a dirt road below Horse Mountain. I stared off past Emmy's head, looking at the destroyed freeway. Cars littered the slope uphill and down, the river carrying heavy debris from the city. I strained my eyes, hoping against hope that I would not see my parents' vehicles in the litter.

  Once we started approaching Sparks, the city of Reno was visible to us. In this darkness, without the brilliance of electricity, all I could see where the multiple fires that ate up what was left to give. Smoke layered the snow clouds above, eating at the darkness, displaying only flashes of the night sky. The entire metropolis is cradled within a valley that held tightly onto its pollution, that boasted an open air to the northeast, and a mountain range to the south. Houses littered the base of the valley hills, and the freeways bisected the center.

  Sparks and Reno are practically one huge mess from the air – separated by invisible boundaries. The casinos downtown were missing – the Nugget lacked its familiar tower, and the Grand Sierra Resort was a half-column of broken windows, wilting steel beams. The Bowling Stadium, Silver Legacy, Eldorado, Harrah’s – all of it was missing. It was as if someone had stretched out from above, swiping their fingers through Reno and uprooting its system from the sewers up. The freeways – I-80 and 395 – were a tumbled mess of concrete, metal, and blackened, empty spaces. The Spaghetti Bowl was no longer there – the Wells noise guard wall was also missing. Where Legends had once stood, Scheels, Best Buy, Target - was a mess of lumpy black. The ferris wheel that once sat in the center of Scheels was lying on I- 80 Eastbound, where the on-ramp from Sparks Boulevard used to be. The Marina next to it was a floating mess – cars littered the man-made ‘pond’, and the apartments that had once stood behind it were missing.

  Familiar streets that I had once taken in my Honda Civic were uprooted, as if they were stretches of broken thread. There were abandoned vehicles everywhere, lying in the weirdest places – as if thrown by a kid having a tantrum. The hospital that once stood on the hill was completely gone, that side of the area carved sharply away. The ruined vegetation told me that fires had burned here, too.

  It was so empty and desolate. It truly felt as if there was no one left out there, but I knew there had to be.

  Nate started to sniffle, burying his face into his hands. I wanted to elbow him because if I couldn't cry, he shouldn't be allowed to. I instead stared towards downtown, hoping badly that my parents were there. My chest clenched tightly because I wanted to see them so bad. I felt my eyes sting, and I hoped so freaking hard that they hadn't tried to leave the city to come find me.

  Despite my earlier resolve, I looked at Harley. I had to wonder who he was looking for as he frowned at the scene we saw. Did he still think of Grace, the snag for New Year's Eve? Or of his father?

  "Damn, it looks bad," Alex muttered from behind Emmy. "All this time, I've been wanting to come back home. But not to this, man. Not to this."

  "We'll have to cross the river, here," Harley muttered in response. "Just keep an eye out for those soldiers. They have to be here, somewhere."

  There was a narrow bridge that looked to join to Sparks-side, promising entrance to the suburb amidst a shadowy factory that I wasn't familiar with. I only saw these sights from the freeway. I didn't know every nook and cranny of it – I was pretty sure the area would lead us to Greg Street, which was a sure shot to the freeway, and to McCarren, which did a full loop around the entirety of Sparks and Reno.

  Fifteen minutes later, Harley came to a stop outside a pile of vehicles. From the way they were positioned, it was as if someone had moved a bunch of them via machinery to form a wall. Man made. It made all of us very cautious, slightly scared.

  Harley cut the truck's engine, and we sat there in silence, watching our breath form as we breathed. "We might have to walk from here," he said low.

  "It'll be easier," Emmy agreed, opening the door and spilling out with a relieved noise. All of us left the truck, trying to be quiet about it. Stretching out our limbs and wincing at the cold air. I watched Harley favor his left leg, wincing as he put his full weight on it. When he noticed me watching him, he glared at me and went for his pack.

  "Can you even move it?" I asked low, as Emmy discussed with Alex and Nate the places she used to go in Sparks.

  "I'm the only one armed right now. They'll shoot me first. That should allow you guys to get to cover, so you better do it, fast," he said in response, pulling his pack on. He then gave a cross expression to the darkness, muttering, "I should've just left a long time ago…"

  I narrowed my eyes. I didn't know how to feel about that. I knew I could do without him, but…there was this pesky lingering uncertainty within me. I don't know if it were guilt, shame, frustration, annoyance…I don't know what it was.

  "C'mon, people. There's a way in, this way," he said, leading the way while he unloaded his gun, checking it. Still limping.

  Nate and Alex stuck close to him, and Emmy shook her head at me as she caught up
to me.

  "Quit being a bitch, Edith," she hissed. "He didn't have to go back to you. But he did. So get over it."

  "He's going to slow us down. He's hurt," I insisted.

  "Then take care of him!"

  "Ew," I said out of reaction. "I don't take care of guys, Em."

  "Emmy! You're so selfish, Edith! He really cares about you, and you're so bitchy towards him - !"

  I gave a heavy sigh, finding it too complicated to explain to Emmy what I felt about the situation. "When you're older, you'll understand."

  "I just hope I'm a way better person than you," she muttered, walking ahead to join the guys.

  I frowned because…I hoped she was, too.

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