by Tom Abrahams
Michelle grabbed his arm, her fingers gripping his jacket. “Don’t leave me,” she begged. “Don’t go. Please.”
“I’m not leaving the building,” Marcus assured her.
She let go of his jacket and dropped her chin, crossed her arms on her chest, and held her shoulders with her hands. Her body shuddered and she leaned back in the chair.
Marcus offered a weak smile and started toward the next room. And the next. He repeated the same, deliberate process with two more women and sat them next to Michelle. Both of them carried the same waiflike physique and gaunt, vacant stare. They too had no concept of exactly how long they’d been held captive, but they were also from Odessa. None of the women seemed to know each other.
Marcus was going to the next room when he heard Lou calling him. He looked up. She was standing at a railing on the far right side of the second floor.
Although her eyes caught the trio of women sitting at the table, she said nothing about them. “You gotta come up here,” she said. “Now.”
Marcus limped to the staircase on the right side of the courtyard and pulled himself upward to the balcony. Most of the doors to the second-floor rooms were open.
“So you found some survivors,” Lou said, issuing a statement as much as asking a question.
Marcus nodded, his eyes dancing between the open doors and Lou. “Yeah,” he said. “You?”
Lou shook her head. “Some of the rooms are empty,” she said. “Some of them aren’t.”
“What do you mean?”
Lou took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled. “I mean the women are dead.”
Marcus curled his fists into tight balls. “Where’s Rudy?”
Lou motioned toward a room over her shoulder. “He’s with Trina.”
“She’s…?”
“Yeah.”
“What about Norma?”
“We haven’t found her.”
Marcus lowered his head and nodded. “I’m going in there. You can go downstairs and keep the women company if you want.”
“Have you finished the rooms downstairs?” she asked.
“There are a few more,” Marcus said.
“I’ll check them,” said Lou. She slid past Marcus to the stairs, bounding down to the first floor.
Marcus clenched his jaw and entered the room where Rudy had found his cousin’s wife. He was sitting on the edge of the mattress with his head in his hands. His fingers tugged at his hair and he rocked back and forth. Behind him on the bed was Trina.
Her partially nude body was pale, her eyes fixed open, mouth agape.
“Rudy,” Marcus said.
He didn’t respond. Marcus moved closer. Rudy was mumbling to himself.
“Rudy.”
Rudy looked up, his eyes wide and swollen. The dim light glistened on the streaks of tears running down his face.
Marcus took another step closer to Rudy and knelt. He looked his new friend in the eyes and then reached out to hug him. He wrapped his arms around Rudy’s back and pulled the weeping man into his chest.
“I’m so sorry, Rudy,” Marcus said. “I’m so sorry.”
Rudy’s body shook as he sobbed. “I don’t understand,” he wailed. “How can there be so much cruelty in this world? So much suffering? Too much.”
Marcus patted Rudy on the back and gently pulled back. He reached around Rudy and, with his thumb and index finger, closed Trina’s eyes. He touched her chin and forcefully closed her mouth then looked at Rudy. “We’re going to find Norma,” he said. “I’m sure—”
“Rudy! Marcus!” It was Lou, calling from downstairs. “Rudy!”
The men glanced at each other and then quickly moved to the balcony. Marcus leaned over the rail, searching the courtyard below for Lou.
Rudy joined him at the railing. “Lou?” he called excitedly. “What is it?”
“Are you all right?” Marcus asked, sliding along the rail until he reached the stairs. Using the rail for support, he descended the steps quickly, ignoring the stiffness in his leg.
Rudy bounded past him, beating him to the first floor. He sprinted toward the table with the three women, searching for a familiar face.
“Lou?” he called.
“In here,” she replied as Marcus reached the ground level. Her voice was coming from an open room underneath the stairs. It was the second to last facing the courtyard on the right side.
Marcus beat Rudy to the doorway. Lou was standing next to the bed. Fifty was already there, sitting obediently with his tail swishing on the floor. There was a woman sitting up on the bare mattress. She was clothed, a bandanna around her neck. There were cut ropes on the floor next to her.
Marcus stood there for a moment before Rudy shoved past him into the room. He slid onto the floor, almost skidding to a halt against the bed as he fell into the woman on the bed and knocked her back onto the mattress.
The two of them held each other and wept. They kissed each other, their lips smacking between cries. Fifty jumped onto the bed, trying to join the celebration. He whimpered and barked at the excitement of it.
Rudy asked the woman, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. They didn’t touch me.”
Marcus looked at Lou and mouthed, “Norma?”
Lou nodded and smiled.
A thick lump formed in Marcus’s throat. He swallowed against it, but he couldn’t stop the tears from welling in his eyes. He knuckled them from his cheeks and leaned against the doorjamb.
When the adrenaline-fueled emotion of the moment passed, Norma looked at Marcus and Lou, her brow crinkled with confusion.
“Where’s Trina?” she asked, searching all three of them for an answer.
Rudy gripped his wife’s shoulders. He opened his mouth to speak but didn’t say anything. The look on his face must have given away the answer.
Norma’s expression drooped and she drew her hands to her face. She shook her head in denial.
“I told her to keep quiet,” she said. “I told her not to talk, not to badger them.”
Rudy looked to Marcus, his eyes pleading for help. He snapped his fingers and Fifty hopped from the bed to the floor. The dog sidled up next to Lou and she put her hand on his head.
“The men who did this are dead,” said Marcus. “You don’t have to worry about them anymore. I know it’s little consolation, but—”
Norma tensed and pulled away from her husband. “Who are you?” she asked. She looked at Lou. “And you?”
“This is Marcus and Lou,” Rudy said. “They helped me find you.”
Norma’s posture relaxed. She flashed a weak smile and put her hands over her heart. “Thank you. I’m eternally grateful. You say you killed all of them?”
Marcus nodded.
“That can’t be,” she said. “They’re not all here. The coyote left hours ago with several women.”
Marcus took a step forward. “The coyote?”
“Yes, the smuggler. The man who moves the women around.”
“Does he have one eye?” Marcus asked.
Norma’s eyes widened. “How did you know?”
Marcus scratched his chin. “His name is Cego. I owe him something. Where did he go?”
“Del Rio.”
“Del Rio,” said Marcus, scratching the scruff on his chin. “That’s a couple of days’ ride from here.”
“We better get going, then,” said Lou.
CHAPTER 12
OCTOBER 25, 2042, 4:05 AM
SCOURGE +10 YEARS
SAN ANGELO, TEXAS
“You sure the horse can pull the cart?” asked Marcus.
He was standing in the parking lot behind the hotel, his hand on the side of an abandoned landscaping trailer. He and Rudy had emptied it of its trash and rigged traces on either side for the horse to be able to pull it.
“He’s pretty strong,” said Rudy, patting the thoroughbred’s hindquarters. “With Norma on the saddle and Fifty and the three women in the cart, I can walk alongside. We’ll be fine
.”
Lou was on the other side of the cart, playing with the dog. She’d throw a stick and he’d fetch.
Norma was huddled with the other women at the back of the hotel. She’d found them clothing and shoes and appeared to be mothering them. The three young women held hands with one another, but none of them spoke or looked anyone in the eyes.
Marcus measured the setup. “You’re taking everyone back to Baird?”
“For now,” said Rudy. “We still have supplies there. Ammo, food, water. We’ll nurse these girls back to health. Plus, we’ve got a nice supply of new semiauto rifles given all of the ones we took from cold, dead hands around here.”
Marcus chuckled. “All right. I don’t know what we’re going to find in Del Rio, how long it’ll take, or what we’ll do afterward…”
Rudy stepped to Marcus and extended his arms for a hug. “We’ll see each other again,” he said, patting Marcus on the back. “This isn’t goodbye.”
Marcus returned the affection and exhaled. “I’m glad you’ve got Norma. She’ll keep you in line.”
Rudy laughed. He snapped his fingers and whistled Fifty to his side. The dog didn’t obey. He sat next to Lou on the other side of the cart. His tongue wagged, as did his tail.
“Fifty,” Rudy said, “venga aqui. Ahora.”
The dog shifted his weight on his front paws but didn’t otherwise move. Lou shrugged and suppressed a smirk.
“Come here, Fifty,” Rudy called again. He whistled, clapped his hands, snapped his fingers, all to no avail.
The dog barked at him and whimpered.
“How about that?” Rudy said incredulously.
He walked around the back of the cart, his hand dragging across the worn steel tailgate. Fifty watched his master cross the short distance between them yet still didn’t move. The dog held his ground, even inching against Lou’s leg.
Rudy crouched down, balancing himself on the asphalt with his spread fingers. “Fifff-teeee,” he said, dragging out the dog’s name as if it had done something mischievous. “Come here, good boy.”
The dog pulled one paw up to his face and rubbed it across his nose. Then he lay down and rested his head on Lou’s foot.
Rudy rested his elbows on his knees, leaning forward on the balls of his shoes. He called to his dog again, more forcefully.
The dog rolled onto his back and pawed at the air in front of his muzzle. He whimpered.
“I think Fifty wants to go with the girl,” said Norma. She’d moved to the side of the cart and was leaning against it, apparently as mesmerized by the dog’s behavior as everyone else.
Lou knelt down next to the dog and scratched the broad stretch of fur between its front legs. “It’s okay, boy,” she said softly. “Go back to your daddy.”
Fifty lapped at her arm and rolled onto his side. He shook himself and licked Lou on the face. She nuzzled him before telling him again to leave.
The dog turned and hung his head, moping a few feet to Rudy. Rudy reached out and cradled the dog’s massive head in his hands, massaging him behind his ears.
Lou stood up and spun the ball cap on her head, tilted the brim downward, and folded her arms across her chest.
Rudy glanced at Lou, at Norma, and at the dog. He sighed and rubbed Fifty’s head. “All right, take Fifty with you, Lou. But he’s on loan, okay?”
Lou’s face brightened and she opened her arms. She called Fifty and he looked at her over his broad shoulder before bounding toward her. He jumped at her and plopped his thick paws onto her, almost knocking her over.
After calming Fifty down, the two parties made certain they’d added to their food supplies from the hotel and said their goodbyes to head their separate ways. The wind had died, leaving behind a wet chill that cut through Marcus’s jacket. The clouds had cleared, leaving a starlit sky. Saturn and Uranus were clearly visible, arcing past their meridian three hours before the sun rose.
Marcus led his Appaloosa west across the river, looking over his shoulder at Rudy heading in the opposite direction. He wondered if he’d ever see the man again. Rudy was a good man, and as Marcus had learned the hard way, there weren’t many of them left.
He wrapped the reins around his hand and spurred the horse to run even with Lou and Fifty. He pressed the Springfield snug between his body and the saddle horn. With his free hand he closed the top button on his denim jacket and made sure the collar was up against the back of his neck.
“That was really nice of Rudy to let Fifty come with us,” Lou said. The dog’s ears pricked at the mention of his name.
“He’ll slow us down,” Marcus said. “You can’t ride as fast with him on your saddle. Plus, he’s another mouth to feed.”
Lou frowned. “He saved your life, Marcus.”
Marcus shrugged. “I guess.”
“You could start an argument in an empty house,” she said, shaking her head.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you don’t know how to be happy or gracious or none of that,” said Lou. “My dad used to say that when I was complaining over blessings.”
“Your dad, huh?” asked Marcus. They’d reached Highway 277, which would take them the next one hundred and fifty miles to Del Rio. He guided the horse to the left, turning south onto the highway.
Marcus walked the horse over another bridge. The Concho River raged beneath them, the water from the night’s storm rushing high along the banks. He raised his voice above the churn so Lou could hear him. “Tell me about him.”
Lou snapped her attention to Marcus. Her eyes were narrow, almost hidden underneath the serious curl of her brow. “My dad?” she asked rhetorically.
“Yeah,” Marcus said. “I told you about me and mine. It’s your turn to share.”
Lou sighed and ran her fingers against the grain of Fifty’s back fur. He panted gratefully, smiling at the affection.
“He was my hero,” she said. “After the Scourge, when my mom and brother died, he kept me safe.”
“I’m sorry about your mom and brother.”
Lou shrugged. “Everybody lost somebody. What happened…happened.”
“Where were you?”
“We were in Austin,” she said. “My dad worked for TxDOT.”
“The state transportation department?”
“Yep. He was an IT guy. He kept their systems running. We had a nice house. My mom stayed home to raise me and my brother. He got sick at school, then Mom got it. Kinda like your wife and son.”
Marcus scraped his teeth across his upper lip and bit his lower one. He gazed skyward and pictured Sylvia and Wesson looking down on him.
“We burned the bodies,” she said. “There wasn’t really a good spot to bury them in the backyard and Dad was worried about disease.”
“Disease? Worse than the Scourge?”
Lou shook her head. “I don’t know. He was worried about animals too. And the smell. It would have to be better though. I’ve never smelled anything like burning bodies. It’s the worst.”
Lou lowered her head and raked her fingers on the dog’s back and neck. They rode quietly for several minutes. Marcus was alone in his mind and he imagined Lou was in hers. When she finally spoke, her voice was low.
“I can’t see my mom’s face anymore. I can smell the pyre. I can see her body burning, but I don’t remember her face. I couldn’t tell you what color eyes she had or how her hug felt. I don’t even remember whether her hair was long or short.”
There was a faint purple haze along the horizon to their left. Sunrise was eking closer. Marcus pulled a full canteen from his pack and offered it to Lou. She waved him off, declining the drink.
“We stayed at the house for a few months. It might have even been a year. We survived on canned food and bags of rice at first. We had a stockpile of cordwood and a few bags of charcoal we used to cook food or boil our water,” she said. “Then we started trapping squirrels and tree rats. Occasionally we’d eat armadillo.”
“Ar
madillo?”
“Tastes like pork.”
“Never had it.”
“You’re not really missing anything,” she said. “I’d rather eat squirrel.”
Marcus nodded. “I’ve eaten worse.”
“My dad said that. And when we left the neighborhood, I did too.”
“Why’d you leave?”
“We didn’t have land with an unlimited natural gas supply and a well,” Lou said. “It got too dangerous to sit still. Especially once the Cartel got bigger. So we packed up what we could and moved on.”
“Where did you go?”
Lou shrugged. “Lots of places. We stayed off major roads and traveled through the woods or ranch land. We tried to cross the wall once. Didn’t work out. So we came back south. Water was the hardest thing to find. I remember picking at the cracks on my lips until they bled.”
“Your dad sounds resourceful.”
Lou smiled. “He was. He always managed to find a way. And then he found the library—that was the best. It had bathrooms and carpet and chairs. It even had some old solar cells on the roof my dad tapped into. We could run the break room refrigerator, microwave, and coffee maker. Plus it was near a pond. So for a while, we were good. Plus my dad used the books to teach me so much. It was paradise. That’s what we called it, anyhow.”
“Where was it?”
“Killeen,” she said. “It was on a college campus.”
“And you were by yourselves?”
“Until the Dwellers came.”
Marcus pulled on the reins, stopping his horse. A chill ran through his body. “What do you mean, the Dwellers?”
Lou’s tone slid from melancholic to bitter. “The Dwellers,” she repeated. “The people you helped put in power.”
Marcus swallowed hard and looked away from Lou. He cleared his throat and kicked his heels into the horse to get it moving. He didn’t say anything to refute her. She was right. He had helped to put the Dwellers in control of Texas. He had led the revolt against the Cartel. He was partially responsible for the lawless no-man’s-land the region south of the wall had become.
“The Dwellers pushed the Cartel people into the dark corners they hadn’t explored,” she said. “They were looking for safe havens, places where they could escape the high and mighty Dwellers, who considered themselves judge, jury, and executioner.”
