Thought about where we were headed and wondered if I should even make the effort living without my parents. It seemed pointless, now. I couldn’t see myself continuing on with the knowledge that they were gone. They were the reasons why I lived, why I made choices that I’d made – and now that they weren’t here, what was the point?
“Leave me here,” I said heavily.
“I’m not going to,” he said firmly. “I came all the way out here to bring you with us.”
I stared at him for a few moments, completely confused why he would put this much effort into me when I didn’t want him to. Then I said quietly, “I don’t want to go.”
“Yes you do!” He stepped around to face me, looking annoyed as he did so. “Don’t even do this right now. Don’t even try to fight with me on this - !”
“I have my rights! I’m a fucking American!”
He rolled his eyes while I fumed and listened to my voice echo off the empty houses and yards around us.
“True,” he croaked, like he was trying not to laugh. “But – I have rights, too. And I have the right to make you see reason.”
“You’re so stupid. I told you a while back – if I don’t want to go back, I’m not,” I interrupted him, jerking my Sailor Moon backpack off me, and dropping it at his feet. He frowned down at it, then at me. I nudged it over with a foot, then turned to walk back to dad’s study.
“Then what are you going to do?” he asked after me, stepping over the bag to follow. “There’s nothing around here - !”
“I’m going to stay here.”
“No, you’re not!” he insisted, grabbing my arm. I jerked away from him, then tried to kick him when he grabbed me again. “Stop acting like a child!”
“I’m not going back! My purpose is over with!” I shouted. “It was to find my parents, and now that I’ve found them, there’s nothing more for me to do! I never planned on doing anything other than – I can’t be without them!”
“They’re gone, Edith! They made their choice, and guess what? They made their choice without you, so that means they left you,” he stated, and hearing that made me frown. Because it was true. “They had no faith in you, they didn’t expect you to survive. But you proved them different – posthumously, but you did something that they didn’t expect. You survived. Why give up, now?”
“Because I don’t know what to do,” I replied calmly. “I passed the game. Now what?”
I knew he wouldn't say anything appropriate then, but he said, “Download extra content, I guess. Just keep on playing, explore another map. There’s no point in just – giving up on the entire thing just because you’ve finished what you were supposed to do. There’s always more to do.”
I stared at him for several seconds, the weight of his words ringing in my addled thoughts. Maybe I did pass the game and found an unfavorable ending, but there were always the extras to explore. Downloads to buy. Different maps to take on for a new challenge.
I hadn’t even given thought to a future without my parents, but I had gotten used to being without them these past few weeks. It seemed scary to me, overwhelming. But I had found them. They were in the bathroom, decomposing, having committed suicide because they thought I would never survive the First Night.
He was right, they’d made their choice without me, so…so I had to move on.
I felt his eyes on me, waiting for a response of some kind. But I couldn’t even bring myself to say anything. He reached out with his girly fingers, hesitantly clasped mine. I let him touch me and I guess I just needed that, at this moment. To be touched and acknowledged physically. Pulled out from under the water to breathe in fresh air.
“I lied to them. I don’t know if you’d noticed, but…they like to interfere with things,” Harley said slowly. “I just thought…it’d be better if this was…a little more private.”
“I just…I just left everybody, that night. So much chaos – they probably hate me – “
“People need to do what they have to to survive, Edith. I think most of them get that, by now.”
I still felt like a dick for leaving everyone to die.
“Look…you want to know why I – like, made all this effort?” he asked gently, looking embarrassed.
He was looking awkward, and I was feeling awkward, so I said lamely, “You want me to have your babies in an effort to repopulate the earth with gorgeous people?”
He let go of me and gave an outraged sputter, so the awkward tension went away quick. “No - !”
“I’m sorry, it was just – things were getting weird there, for a moment,” I said with a grimace. Dang, I wish I could just shut my mouth. “I panicked. Things like that freak me out.”
He gave a tired sigh, then turned to walk toward the gate. Since I had nothing more to say and was feeling like an awkward dick anyway, I followed. I picked up the Sailor Moon backpack and put it back on, looking at the house I grew up in. My parents were already gone – there was nothing but decomposing shells within.
I was angry and betrayed, but hurt and shocked still. For a moment, it wasn’t my parents I was thinking of, and it wasn’t my situation. I was looking at it from another angle, away from the person standing there with a lame pink backpack she should’ve thrown away a long time ago. Two people died because they were convinced their child was already gone. Little did they know, their child was still alive.
But definitely not left alone. Not abandoned. Their child was stronger than any of them had thought, and had shown she could survive the worst. So it made sense that the child continued on without them.
I had to stop thinking of myself as a child. I wasn’t, and hadn’t been for nearly a decade. Maybe now I could start thinking of myself differently without their influence.
“I need a picture,” I said heavily. “Of them.”
Harley stopped applying comfort to Milly, who was still complaining over the kick I’d given her earlier. “You already packed a few that you’d wanted. If you want to go back inside – “
He had to show me where I’d packed these alleged items – an old cigar case from my father’s study, where I’d apparently packed in a couple of pictures of them both, their wedding rings, and the single pocketsized pic of the three of us that dad had in his wallet. The edges were worn with the outline of credit cards.
“We can always come back,” he said wearily, repacking the box into his own rucksack.
“No…no, that’s it, I guess,” I said slowly. “I’m done.”
“Are you sure?”
I looked at the house one more time, then nodded. “Yup.”
Then, to show him that I appreciated everything he’d done, I lifted up on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
He looked stunned at the contact. But he recovered to give me that suspicious look again. “Are you sure you’re not leaving behind any bipolar meds that you might need?”
I punched him because he really deserved that, too.
Chapter Twenty
Old man Daughtry sent us off with some non-perishables and a bottle of hard liquor for an exchange for one of the handguns. He planned to off himself and his dog after we left, making it no secret that he was relieved to do so. He was too old and too tired to continue scavenging the area for supplies, and his dumb dog had fallen ill. After that, we set off for the long walk back to Sparks. I left my neighborhood for what seemed like the last time, exhaling heavily and trying not to look back because nothing was going to change if I did.
Harley’s earlier footprints were immediately visible, along with the ones Daughtry had made recently with his dog – there was still a pile of poop steaming off to the side of the street, near a yard he’d always shit in when things were normal. He was eating a breakfast sandwich of sorts that Daughtry had made for him when we both heard the two gunshots. It made me cringe.
When birds took flight with startled squawks, I held tightly onto the straps of my backpack, feeling the weight of guns against my back. My dad’s guns, all of which he’d nev
er need again. Guns I’d watched him clean and marvel over for years. Now they were for Harley to do whatever he wanted with, because I sure as hell wasn’t ready to touch another one.
I stared out at the snow, then back the way we came, seeing our prints follow us. I looked up at the clear skies, shielding my eyes from the sun. I thought about the soldiers, and asked if he’d run into them.
He shook his head. “No, but I saw their tracks. A ton of bullet casings. They’re still shooting at people, aren’t they?”
“Then let’s find a place to play house in, until the snow melts a little,” I suggested.
He considered that for a few moments, judging just how much the snow was melting, but I had to admit that it would take more than just a couple of days for it to at least clear the sidewalk.
“Okay. Let’s get some distance, first.”
I took to silence to look at things we passed, having never really looked at them before. Reno had been a town that never really slept – downtown was always brilliant and active with tourists and locals alike. The casinos would glitter, vehicles would slither up and down streets clearly marked with demanding rules, and RPD would be their predicable selves with red and blue lights and calm orders. The sounds of the city would include the impatient vehicle horns and screeching tires, of building machinery at work. The air would smell like various foods, pollution and would occasionally rumble with a low-flying plane.
Now it was silent, empty and only the animals would scurry about, nibbling at whatever vegetation was visible, and the birds purred up above our heads, coloring the snow below them with their droppings.
It was an odd feeling to know that the city I grew up in was a dead one – I was used to twenty-four activity. To have it gone was – startling. I kept expecting to wake up from sleepwalking or dreaming or whatever it was I did to turn myself off and come back to what Reno once was.
: :
We walked through the broken glass doors of the Grand Sierra Resort, and the darkness of the casino floor was immediately greedy. Night had fallen quickly, and since it was still standing in some areas, I thought it would be a good idea to hide out in. The snow had melted considerably in this section of Sparks, so our footprints weren’t that visible. The gaudy floors glittered with coins of destroyed machines, our flashlights catching corpses, their clothes, and what had once been their possessions around them. It smelled to high heaven, and both of us covered our noses and mouths as we walked towards the stairway that would take us up to the hotel rooms on the fourth floor.
The building moaned and protested, and parts of it were missing, allowing us to view the iced over waters of the pool down below, and of the golf driving range that extended towards Mill and Terminal. The freeway had been our greatest obstacle – billions of dollars wasted as ships had destroyed the constant construction that had been 395’s greatest bane, and drivers’ continued irritation. The roadside electronic sign had fallen, lying smashed across several lanes of crumbled steel and concrete. The parking lot was a sunken mess of cars and asphalt, but GSR’s major foundation provided enough steady ground for some floors to remain.
It was hideously cold, but we found a room that connected with another in a section that was located above the casino floor. The walls were intact, and the ceiling was only slightly damaged, but despite the layering of dust and debris, it was still a place to hole up in safely.
As Harley went out to assure the perimeters’ safety, I dropped my bags, cheered at the lack of weight on my shoulders, and began to clear away some of the debris from the blankets. I managed to shift the mattress around, to tilt it up and away and reveal a clean spot just big enough for us both to sleep on, then went about gathering useable blankets from the rooms around us. I was hungry so I went digging through my messenger bag to see what I’d packed.
Clothes, makeup, my body spray, stuff for my hair – Jesus, nothing useful. What the hell was I thinking? Scowling, I kicked the bag to the side, rising to stand on shaky legs. I figured the casino floor would have stores, possibly with some non-perishable foods, so I went rummaging down there for something to eat. It cheered me up to think I might even find some Mountain Dew. I grabbed my flashlight, upended my bag full of useless things to make room for food – then paused to spray myself with my body spray.
Nearly an hour later I returned with a full bag, and Harley was looking over a newspaper that boasted the efforts of brave first responders in the northern Nevada area. I sat across from him, pulling out bags of chips, candy and cold bottles of soda. I took a sip of my Dew while he immediately went for the candy.
After indulging, he told me the area was clear. Everyone had been evacuated – there wasn’t even any signs of gore or bloody stains that signaled Rabid attacks.
“I wonder what it was like that night,” I said, then thought about it as I savored the sticky thick taste of my Dew, swishing it to coat my teeth with cavity inducing appreciation.
“Probably the same as it was in Fernley,” he said, and both of our voices, though spoken low to each other, was so loud in the immense silence. Ringing off the gaudy walls of the room. “Chaotic. There are cars crammed into the exits around here, did you see that? People tried to get away all at the same time. I didn’t see any downed planes.”
“Me, too,” I admitted. “Emmy said one fell on Terminal, but I can’t see it from here.”
“The airport’s right over there, right?”
“Yup. Also, one downtown. I didn’t see it, either, so maybe it was closer to the freeway. I should’ve looked when I was down there.” I belched as quietly as I could into my hand. “Did you come into Reno a lot? Or was the hardcore community of Cold Springs enough for you survivalists?”
“Yeah, I did. Not so much as down town, but my friends lived over there on South McCarran. So it was more of the Meadowood area that I’m more familiar with.”
My bangs were out of line and I had a headache with how tight my ponytail was, so I pulled it loose to let it hang freely over my back. Now that his attention was diverted to picking at his dirty nails, I looked him over, trying to see something else that the others saw right off. He definitely wasn’t my physical type. I wasn’t sure how to approach the situation. It was like trying to make myself fall for a good guy friend because everyone expected me to, and I was rebelling only out of instinct.
“So…all you were doing was working, huh? No school for you?” I asked.
He gave me a funny look because the question was so random after everything that had happened. Then looked annoyed. Fiddled with the wrappers in front of us for a while, then exhaled heavily. “You really don’t pay attention to other people, do you?”
I heard the exasperation in his tone, and registered the irritation on his face that told me I’d missed something tremendously significant.
“No,” I admitted, crossing my legs and pulling my hair forward to fiddle with it. “Why?”
“Geez, Edith. I’m going to feel real stupid for saying this, but…haven’t you realized by now who I am? Before this all happened, we saw each other almost every week. For the past…six years, now. Since spring semester, in Folkensin’s class.”
The name rang familiar – a sociology class at UNR, a needed credit in my failed pursuit. I recalled how boring the class was, the nearly hundred students that filled out the stadium-like seats. I had sat with a group of cops and aspiring lawyers that I knew only because of my dad. There had been a lot of arrogance and stupid man-behavior that had taken more of my attention than class ever had, because I had been more focused on them than the actual subject.
I nodded once I remembered the general class sessions. “Uh, sure? I remember going to that class.”
He waited for me to say anything else, then looked disappointed when I didn’t. Tossed aside a wrapper he’d been crinkling between two fingers.
“I was in that same class.”
I was inwardly aghast. I honestly couldn’t ever remember seeing Harley before working in Fernley.
/>
Another irritated sigh once Harley realized my expression. “You once referred to me as an incestual trailer trash in-breeder when I tried to interfere with one of your arguments.”
I did? Geez, I was horrified at this revelation, and I did kind of remember hating the class because of this one mouthy chick – and as I did remember, I also saw Harley back then as this quiet guy with dark hair to his shoulders who often sat in the back and rarely spoke up if he didn't have to. It had been a class easily forgotten once I passed and moved on.
I was stunned, looking horrified as things came back to me. He was right – I did see this guy every day. Not only did we have some classes together at UNR, but he also worked weekends at Whole Foods, where mom and I frequented for groceries. He always bagged our groceries and made small talk, and mom had even commented on how he always smiled at me and I never really paid attention because I was always looking at the bigger guy that –
The Long Way To Reno Page 29
