by JM Scott
I opened the little gate and stepped around the rusty blood patches. The living room was clean except for the toys all over the floor, untouched like a museum. Everyone must have been outside. I checked the cupboards and found more Ramen noodles, one can of pasta and several Kool Aid packs. I stuffed them in my bag. Rotten apples and bananas were on the counter with moldy store bought bread. I made my way to the back door. The yard was small. It was mowed at some point but now the grass was long and dandelions sprouted everywhere like a 70's rug. Cement squares led to small brown shed with a lock. After getting the key from inside the house, I unlocked the door. And it was the survival jackpot.
There were two bikes for adults, one for a small boy child with training wheels, a girl bike and a little wagon that was pulled behind a bike. Beside the lawnmower and weed whacker were two tents, a camp stove and other camping stuff including a hiking pack, which looked like it hadn’t been used in years. It was a little worn but should still be function. Nancy could use my pack and I would use the big one. I selected the black bike for myself and attached the little kid wagon and shoved the small tent, two musty sleeping bags and the stove inside. I went back inside and grabbed all the bottled water I could fit in there.
Then I slipped my stuff in the new pack and rooted through the shed and loaded my pack with rope, a couple of rusty knives, fishing line. I was hoping for a gun and ammo but there was nothing. Maybe in the house, but I already spent long enough here. I had to get back to Nancy and get on the road. Now, the question was, how was I going to ride a bike and take the other? The little wagon was already dragging on the ground so I took out the sleeping bags, which only helped a little and tied the bike on top. I was never a girl scout, but I felt like I was going to beat this. Whatever this was. I had a feeling, a hopeful one, that this time tomorrow, we would be safe and sound in Trexlerton at the National Guard. They couldn’t turn us away. Could they?
I walked my bike out the back gate. A metal trash can across the alley rolled over. Rats. But what if it wasn’t? I pulled the gun out of my pants and took the safety off. I was in the open. Worse came to worse I could make a run for it, leaving all of my new found goods in the alley.
Shadows moved.
“Please, don’t shoot,” a guy said with a light Puerto Rican accent.
“How do I know you won’t shoot me?” I said while I trembled.
“I have no shells, just the gun.”
“Let me see you.” Was I asking for trouble? Perhaps. There was something about his voice- a little frightened but kind. He emerged from the shadows with his hands up with a small handgun in his right hand.
“I’m Trent,” he said as bent down and put the gun on the ground then straightened up.
I had no idea what to do.
“Holly,” I said. I held my gun at him. We stood there for a few minutes.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not with them. And neither are you.”
“Them?”
“The gringos from the library.”
“How do you know I’m not one of them?”
“I just know. You’re good people,” Trent said and moved closer, leaving his gun on the sidewalk. His light brown skin reminded me of Cocoa puff milk. He had black hair that was styled with zig zags on the side, but it started to grow out. He was a little taller than me and not much bigger. “I’ve seen you down at the warehouse. You’re a drifter. They don’t want drifters in their group. No spics either.”
I stood there like a dumb ass holding a loaded weapon feeling like I was all mighty, but really I didn’t know what to say or do. I never read a lot of books or watched a lot of movies. I had the power, I think he knew that. But I didn’t know what to do with it.
“They shot at me, two no three days ago.” He came closer. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to rape you either. Maybe we can help each other out.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. You got people somewhere?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe? You don’t know? What do I have to do to prove myself to you?”
“Nothing.” I didn’t really like talking to people. He didn’t make me nervous just tongue tied. I wanted to keep Nancy safe. I wanted to get us to Trexlerton or at least out of the city. But Trent wanted to help or at least seem like it.
He stood in front of the gun. “If you want to kill me, do it.”
“I don’t want to kill you,” I said and lowered my weapon.
“I have a bike with my stuff in the alley. I was going from house to house but the rats.”
“Rats.”
“Let’s start over. I’m Trent Perez and up to about a couple of weeks ago, I lived two blocks from here with my daughter, my girlfriend and my mother. As you can see they didn’t make it. And you are?” He put his hand toward me. I took it, but barely. He grabbed onto mine and squeezed it as he shook it. His hands were rough but warm, gentle.
“What happened?” I said.
“Don’t really know. I was at work when the shit went down. Mami would say it was the rapture. I guess it would make sense right, I gave up on God a long time ago. But she would take my girls to church every Sunday and we’d pray.”
We stood in silence.
“You’re not much of a talker are you? Look, I figure we can help each other out. I don’t know where you are going, but safety in numbers right?”
“I, uh. I have a friend down at the shelter. We are leaving to go to the National Guard in Trexlerton. I’m Holly Biscayne.”
“Well we’re getting somewhere. But there is a problem with your plan.”
“What’s that?”
“They ain’t there in Trexlerton, all members were called up. I heard it on the short wave before the batteries died.”
“But it should be safe there right? Nancy is kind of old and it’s too dangerous for her out here.”
“Yeah it should be safe. I mean there has to be one person there. If that is where you want to go. We’ll get your friend Nancy, and we’ll head out. That is, if want me to come along.”
“Safety in numbers right?”
“But do you trust me?”
“I don’t distrust you. How could you trust me?”
“I told you you’re good people. I’ve been watching you since you showed up. What were you doing at the crater?”
“Dumping a body.”
He frowned.
“It was Linda; she was killed by them.”
“Sorry, was she your friend?”
“Not really.”
He dashed across the alley and grabbed his green pack and green bike.
Chapter Eight
Trent followed behind me as I wove in between smashed cars and blood stains. As we neared the shelter, people were shouting. I stopped. Trent pulled up beside me. We were two blocks away, but I could see the shelter from the wind shield of a car. We got off our bikes and hid them in alley. I pulled the gun from my pants and released the safety.
I crept along beside the cars until we were almost in front of the shelter. Men with guns stood outside. Some had their fingers on the trigger. Nancy screamed and was dragged outside by her hair. She was crying and struggling to break free. I never shot a gun before, but Nancy was in trouble. I had a clear shot for the one guy who stood there allowing all this to happen.
“I’m going to ask you again, is there anyone with you?” The one man said. The same man who shot at her.
“No,” Nancy mumbled.
The man pulled out a pair of silky panties. The same ones I took from the house. They wouldn’t fit Nancy. And I always wanted fancy panties. In fact, I had a pair on right then. He took his gun and whacked it against her head.
My arm shook. I was going to shoot that cocksucker. Trent put his hand over mine.
“Did you ever shoot before?”
I shook my head.
“We have one gun with how many bullets? They have an army. We’d be dead after your first shot,” Trent whispered.
&nbs
p; Nancy wailed and answered, “She’s a homeless girl. I know her. Please, I can cook and clean. I will be good.”
“I don’t like how you’re a liar. Maybe...maybe if you would have told the truth. We need to know of everyone in the city, our city. And your runaway girl, where is she now?” Shiny Boots asked.
“I don’t know. She went out for supplies.”
“She went out for supplies. Stealing?” He yelled. “Of course, she is stealing.” Other men nodded. “And this is why you don’t get to come with us and have hot food. Because you are a liar who allows theft” He took his gun and smashed her head again.
“Take the supplies,” Shiny Boots ordered the others.
Those were our supplies. I went out and got them. How dare they take what was ours? How dare they hurt Nancy? Nancy of all people. I raised my gun again; I was going to kill Shiny Boots.
“There’s nothing you can do for her. She’s already dead,” Trent whispered. “She’s barely alive as it is. Do you want to die?”
No, I didn’t want to die. I felt like I always had so much more life to live. I always felt I was better than my situation. And one day, things were going to get better. Before all this shit went down. Things were going to get better. Nancy had me on the list for a halfway house. I was next in line. I could stop taking shit jobs at the warehouse and get a real job. We made a plan for my life. And now where did it get anyone.
“What do you want to do with her?” another man with a rifle asked.
“Hold her up.”
Blood poured from Nancy’s head. Her face was swollen.
“Who is this girl that was with you?”
Nancy mumbled.
“I am not going to ask again. Who was this girl? What did she look like?”
Nancy mumbled. Shiny Boots took his gun and shot her execution style. I gasped a little too loudly. Trent grabbed my mouth and tackled me to the ground. I saw their shoes but they weren’t moving.
“Crawl on your stomach and get to the alley. We can get into one of these houses.”
He got off me and we dragged ourselves to the alley. Once in the deep afternoon shadows, he helped me up and we ran to the back of the alley which led to another alley behind the row homes. There was another set of row homes. We climbed the short fence and went to the back door. Locked. Voices thundered near us. They were looking for us. We climbed the fence and ran two houses down. Trent tried the back door- unlocked. He dragged me inside. Darkness swallowed us. The shades and curtains were drawn. The rotting smell, the chewing rats were all there.
Trent took my hand and led me to the stairs. We crept up the stairs and found a bedroom.
“We wait. They probably know someone was nearby. And they won’t waste ammo just shooting up random houses. Are you okay?”
No, I wasn’t okay. Being on the streets, I saw a lot of different things. Things that make you wonder about humanity in general. I saw a girl raped once. I was her witness but the guy got away anyway. Why? They used my homelessness against me saying I was crazy which I wasn’t. They said I was a liar. Which I’m not that either. But you cast enough doubt on the star witness then I guess maybe the guy didn’t do it. I have seen people get stabbed that probably deserved it and me calling 911 anyway.
But something was different. Those men they had no reason to do what they did? Why did the have to kill her? Why did they have to hurt me? Allentown was all of our homes. It was big enough for everybody. I don’t know how much supplies were around but there had to be enough for everyone. They were savage. They were nothing like the strung out crack heads that roamed the streets looking for a fix. And as violent the gang bangers were, these men were nothing like that. At least I never felt threatened near a gang. They ignored me and I them. These men were like the one cop who liked to beat black guys, but not gang bangers or the pimps that beat their women, but regular guys coming from work. Then it hit me Shiny Boots was that cop, I knew I knew him from somewhere. He was caught eventually, I offered to testify since the one lady detective, Detective Bryce came down and talked to all of us. She said she would come and get me if needed but she never did. Detective Bryce must have died too. She would never stand for those men and what they did. She seemed to care about justice.
Trent put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. I didn’t like being touched and I didn’t touch. Most of the time when someone came to touch me they meant to hurt. Of course, other than Nancy.
“I am really sorry about your friend, Bandita.”
I wanted to cry. But I forgot how. I used to cry and then one day, you wake up and realize crying gets you know where. And people keep on hurting you. We sat together on the lumpy bed with messed up bed covers in silence with his hand on my shoulder. Trent was kind. He was good people.
Voices came from the alley.
“Boss said he heard someone after he shot that broad.”
“Probably a rat.”
“Yeah we found their shit.”
“And you want to waste time looking in all these houses for a ghost. We’ll get her eventually. She can’t hide forever. You hear that little runaway girl? We’re going to get you. It’s matter of time.”
I stiffened under Trent’s grip.
“Come on, let’s get in the closet.”
We crawled on the floor. The closet was neat with clothes and shoes. Trent closed the door. We went as far back as we could and huddled together my hand still holding the gun.
I found my voice, “Why?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been keeping watch on them, it seems like they gather up people and children. They were at the library now they have a whole city block.”
“Did they hurt you?” I asked.
“Nah, I never approached them. I crept around the library and heard stuff. I went back home. The mayor is there.”
“Why isn’t he at his house?”
“It’s a big crater now.”
“Right, I knew that.”
“What about you?”
“I found them a couple of days after the event. They shot at me.”
We were silent. I was glad to have Trent. He didn’t push conversation. He lost a lot or at least that is what he told me. He probably spent his time lost in his own grief or confusion.
“Trent, do you think there are other people in streets?”
“I don’t know probably. They’ve got a good twenty people in their group.”
“What should we do?”
“Well it’s obvious they won’t let either one of us in their group. So you want to go to Trexlertown? We at least got to get out of the city.”
“Yeah, I want to get as far away as possible.”
I’ve never been out of the city. The most nature I’d ever seen was in the park. Even as a child, we didn’t go on vacation. I was four when my dad left. I barely remembered him. But when he left, he left for good. And that’s when shit got bad for my mom. She was a victim of circumstance. My dad used to call and promise to take me to the beach. And then he wouldn’t show. After awhile, he didn’t call. If he was still alive, where would he be? I had this urge to find Mom once again, but would it be worth it? Even is she didn’t die during the event, she would be dead or almost dead by the time I got to her. Of course, I didn’t even know if she was alive before the event.
Trent put his arm around me, which was a weird feeling. I didn’t have boyfriends in school. I am what you consider not hot. And then when I dropped out, I didn’t have one either. Probably because I was a homeless. I wasn’t a hooker. And I wasn’t a crackhead. I was fine on my own. Trent was a good looking guy, and I’m sure he was being friendly. But that was as far as I would let it go. I liked it though. Even with all this shit. I liked sitting in a dark closet with his arm around me. I wouldn’t be alive if I said differently. I felt like I could trust Trent. He seemed smarter than me and hadn’t got me killed. In fact, he probably saved me today. I known him for a couple of hours, and I could say he was my friend.
Chapter Nine
&
nbsp; I woke before him and found myself laying beside him as if were teenage lovers forgotten about after seven minutes of heaven. I did play once before my mother pushed me through a window, and I went on the streets. It was seventh grade; I wound up in the closet with Boo. Boo wanted to do everything in seven minutes, and I wanted to take a nap. I was already tired from mowing the lawns of my neighbors and bottle collecting. So I let him kiss me with his big slobbery mouth. Then he said to me, “Well that sucked” and we sat in the dark until it was over. I guess I have the affect on men and boys.
“Trent wake up,” I said and shook him awake. The gun had fallen out of my hand and lay it the darkness. I reached over him and felt around for the cold metal.
“Let me sleep, Teresa,” Trent mumbled in his sleep.
He dreamed of his girlfriend. I felt sad for him. While Nancy was my friend in a way, and I knew a lot of the homeless, and I thought about my mother, I didn’t really feel sad. Even now, I know Nancy was killed for no reason, and I just didn’t feel sad. Did that make me a psychopath?
“It’s me Holly.”
He stirred and sat up. In the narrow strip of light from the door, he rubbed his eyes.
“Morning Holly. We have another day together.”
“For now. So you think we can get out of here?” I wanted to piss and breathe fresh air. I was starting to feel closed in.
“We should be okay. But I’m not an apocalypse expert or anything,” he said.
I opened the door and cool morning air rushed in.
I went through the closet. Whoever she was had nice, expensive clothes. Trent was downstairs. He opened the cupboards and rustled plastic. I slipped off my old jeans and tee shirt and the fancy panties. I found another pair of panties in a drawer and slipped them on. Then shimmied into the jeans with sparkles on the back pockets and selected a low sparkly shirt. They were my size but felt tight around my body. I looked at myself in the mirror. I guess clothes did make the person.
