The Long Way To Reno

by Mix, Michelle

  Chuck practically shoved me aside to get to Harley, and he examined the injury as he caught his breath, shining a penlight on it. I almost barfed at the sight of it. Diego joined in the rapid, manly conversation, voices rising and hands gesturing and it was Chuck that decided that cutting through that thread to release the flap of skin was the best solution.

  I thought I was going to faint at this point, catching hold of the stairway railing until Diego caught my arm with an amused chuckle. Both Troys were yelling at each other, their voices obscenely loud over the buzzing in my ears, and it was Diego that helped me walk away from the situation.

  “You heard us, then?” he asked, guiding me away from the stairway, both of us heading for the destroyed doors. “We saw you two at the last second. We were tracking that particular group. We’d no idea you two were in there.”

  “From the freeway?” I wheezed. “You guys were on the way over – “

  “Yeah, yeah, we were. He was worried,” Diego stressed, lifting a grey-speckled eyebrow. We were outside once more, and my legs were shaking so much that I had to sit.

  “So is he hit, or what?” Chloe asked with heavy irritation, her short blond hair tucked underneath a hat. I stared at her for a few moments, a little impressed with her biceps.

  “Lost an ear, only,” Diego replied. “He is good. They are having words.”

  “I hate having to wait while words are had,” she complained. Yes, Chloe is a Francis. “It’s freaking cold and I’m starving and this waiting around is pissing me off. Hey, are you hit, too?”

  I considered my answer. Said carefully, “No, I’m good.”

  “You better be worth the effort and time, princess,” she said to me. “Or I’m going to rearrange your face with my boot.”

  “Prison sex will not earn you my affections,” I said grandly. “I’ve been beaten down by bigger, prettier girls than you.”

  I flinched when she kicked my in the leg with her boot, then watched her warily as she went to bawl the Troys out for arguing. I rubbed my leg with one hand, looking at Diego for help, but he was politely looking the other way.

  I made my way down the stairs to get the rucksack that we’d abandoned at the sidewalk. Diego helped me with it by throwing it on his own back. By the time we’d gotten ourselves situated, Chuck and Harley had finally emerged from the casino, both of them looking pissed while Chloe looked impressed.

  “That was a close call. You heard me?” Chuck asked me, taking the steps down two at a time, a lithe creature of the mountains and not at all a city-dweller comfortable with concrete. I felt surrounded by predators taking a break from their hunt.

  “I don’t know,” I replied slowly, starting to feel exhausted.

  “She has really good instincts,” Harley told him.

  “Not good enough if your ear was shot off,” Chuck said, already on the street and shouldering his rifle.

  “Still better than having his head missing,” Diego lifted his voice to be heard as both of them sniped at each other over being over-dramatic, not dramatic enough. I almost wanted to laugh.

  “Are you done, now?” Chuck then asked me, looking absolutely intense. “If your business is done and over with, tell me now.”

  “Uh, yes, it is,” I said. “My entire irrational reason for coming into Reno to find the only people important in my life has been finished with finding them dead. Now that I am assured of being completely alone and family-less, you can have your son back.”

  Chuck did look remorseful, but it wasn’t good enough for me.

  After that, I ignored him, looking at the bloodied material Harley had pressed against his ear. I was definitely going to puke, and he winced.

  “Don’t, please. I feel queasy enough,” he said.

  “Good shot you took back there,” I said.

  “You -! Left me with no choice! I was going to say, let them run around blind in the casino, but no, you – made me do all that!”

  I thought about it, then said, “Oh yeah! That would’ve been a better idea.”

  “Jesus, Ed - !”

  “Well, on that note…might as well as strip those dead guys of their wares. They looked all equipped with useful things. Bullet proof armor, ammo…” I trailed off as Diego and Chuck charged off in that direction, engaged in some other language spat that looked vicious. I changed my mind about doing the stripping as they immediately set to it themselves. Whatever they were having words about, I definitely wasn’t going to stick around to find out.

  Harley gave them a weary look, then looked at me with an indecisive expression. He then reached for me, fingers outstretched, and I took his hand with a relieved smile, because I’m glad he still thought I was beautiful with someone’s brains all over me. It sure was hard pulling off attractiveness when one had gore drying on their clothes.

  Epilogue

  After all that, it was difficult. I struggled. My mind had been so set on finding my parents – alive – that their deaths had thrown me off course. I didn't know what to do. My goal was gone. Harley had said find other maps to explore, but I could not even imagine what else could be out there.

  There were more creatures loose on the streets – Mendive was a loss. Chuck told Harley that they had a small group of survivors hiding in the old Target building on Prater, and that they were planning on moving out from the city for some place called Sierra Heights. Somewhere in California.

  I was extremely nervous about the thought of leaving Reno. This was my home. This was where I'd grown up. I'd watched classmates transition from popular clique leaders to mall saleswomen with children, discussed the rising homicide rates with my dad, celebrated Fourth of July in the Santa Rancho park. Now it was just…abandoned ruins. There was nothing promising within them.

  Trying to keep up with the pack was only a distraction – I swear, all of them were uber athletes of some kind, because their pace was brutal. Every time I started to whine about not being able to keep up, Chloe would step on the backs of my heels. She pushed and pulled on me like I was a rag doll – she slapped my ass and called me princess and motivated me to keep moving. Eventually, she just ended up throwing me on her back and carrying me, grumbling about it the entire time.

  I hope Sandy didn't think I was cheating on her – I seriously felt like I couldn't move any further, or faster, anymore. I think after everything that had happened, my non-athletic body was giving out. I was seriously starving, my stomach eating at itself, but there was nothing I could do about it. The more depressing thoughts that came to mind about the situation, the less inclined I felt about continuing on.

  Once we reached the Target building, night had fallen. Diego ushered us through a side entrance door, and a soldier greeted us with a low whisper. Chloe continued carrying me, moving easily through the darkness in some narrow hall until we emerged out into the open of the abandoned building. A small group of people were huddled together, wrapped in blankets. The area was freezing, but a fire had been discouraged. Flashlights were shifted around as people opened their ranks to allow us in between them.

  Once I took my place next to Sandy, Chloe dumping me like a sack of potatoes, I unleashed these pent up tears I didn't even know I was saving. Once she had me nestled against her firm, huge chest, I sobbed heavily, crying about what I'd found. I didn't even have control of myself. It was sort of embarrassing because it was in front of all these people I didn't even know, and it felt selfish because I'd abandoned them all for my parents – it felt wrong. Nobody was supposed to have sympathy for the villain, but, damn, I just didn't care anymore. I was just extremely grateful that Sandy held me firmly and said all the right things I needed to hear, and that was all that could be done.

  After awhile, I couldn't cry anymore. I felt like a useless sack of weight and my mind was too foggy to think. I pulled away from Sandy, snatched a comforter from the pile, and wandered off into the darkness, much to their startled noises and expressions. I curled up against the wall with my back turned towards them, roll
ed up the blanket around me, and went to sleep.

  I dreamt about being back home.

  This stupid invasion hadn't happened, and I was waking up in my own bed. The house was quiet, but my window was open. I could hear the city outside as it was – noisy, busy, brilliant with life. Planes roared as they came and left – there were sirens in the distance. My neighbors were talking loudly in their yard about weather converters – but I swear one of them sounded like Leon Kennedy, and the other sounded like goddamned Jill Valentine. I could smell mom's cooking. The television was on downstairs – it was a newscast, a reporter speaking gibberish in serious tones.

  Groggily, I lifted my head from my pillow and looked around my room. Everything felt like such a bad dream, but I knew, in the back of my mind, that that wasn't it. Everything in my room was where I'd left it – the dress on the floor, the mess I made coming into my room from the window.

  It felt so real. I had to question myself in why my mind would lie to me.

  I pushed away from the bed, wearing the same outfit I'd worn to work that night. My hair was a jumbled mess, piled high atop of my head in the sleep pony I wore for bed. As I took it down, I left my room.

  Family pictures lined the stairway down to the first floor – the lights were on in the kitchen, in the living room, and I heard the flutter of a newspaper, the harsh clearing of my dad's throat. Mom was cooking something that fried deliciously in the wok she used over the stove. I could hear her humming a bad Katy Perry song. As I walked downstairs, the living room was open to me – the television was on, tuned to CNN and showing comical drawings of UFOs. There was a newspaper on the couch, and I grew puzzled at the lack of my dad's presence.

  I looked into the kitchen, and despite the sounds and smells of earlier, mom wasn't in there cooking. The stovetop was empty, the kitchen dark – the only light emerged from the windows over the sink, where the curtains had been drawn to allow the day in. I whirled around and looked at the living room, and the tv was off – it was dark in there, too. Suddenly, everything was coated with frost and dirt, and it was cold.

  It was so unfair.

  The smell of their dead bodies hit me before I could even do anything, and I woke up with a harsh sob. Being brought back to the immense darkness of the abandoned building, I immediately shushed myself. Sitting up, I wiped my eyes, wanting to continue bawling because the dream had been so fucking harsh. Everything had felt so real – I wanted to see my parents again. I wanted to be home. But that dream just reminded me that that place wasn't my home anymore – not without them.

  I pushed my blanket away, immediately freezing because it was so cold. It was incredibly disorienting in the darkness - I couldn't walk away without assistance. There were people posted in all four corners of the building with flashlights – too far away for me to talk to them. The others were all curled up in their circle, some talking softly to each other while a single candle burned within the center of their position.

  I snatched up my blanket and staggered over in that direction, sniffling and wiping my eyes.

  Without saying or doing anything else, I found Harley sleeping near the edge of circle, his father and Diego just feet away from him, and Emmy and Alex nearby. I forced my way into his section, using a foot to push Chuck away to do so. I thought Chuck was going to kill me with the way he reached for his gun, but Diego slapped him once he saw that it was me. I ignored the angry huff Chuck made as I crawled in next to Harley and made him hold me so I could go back to sleep.

  Things felt a little better when he hugged me – even after everything that had happened, he didn't even smell bad. I went back to sleep without thinking anything else.