The Girl's Guide to the Apocalypse

by Daphne Lamb

  The man came closer and bent down. In the flickering light of the one working lamp in the parking lot, I recognized him as my old boss.

  “Robert!” I tried to stand. “What are you doing here?”

  “Doing what I can,” he said. “Same as you. Still alive I see. I’ve taken on a new position.”

  He extended an arm. I took it, and he helped me to my feet. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Have you seen my new empire?”

  “Really?” I asked. “How’d your human wall find me?”

  Joaquin looked hurt. “I’ll have you know that I have a glandular problem!”

  Robert seemed pretty pleased with himself. “I figured since you were single and looking for a rebound, I sent this guy to houses with groups of single men with lots of time on their hands.” He had a weird grin. “So how’d that house find you, anyway? Which one of those guys did you follow home?”

  I was still picking asphalt out of my clothes. “You make me sound desperate,” I said. “I wasn’t desperate.”

  “So how’d you meet them?”

  “Dating app,” I mumbled. “Not what you think, though.”

  He leaned forward, hand to his ear. “Didn’t get that. One more time.”

  “Dating app,” I said louder. “Happy?”

  He gestured to Joaquin, who now wandered in a small circle in the parking lot, hands stuffed into his pockets. “Any interest there?”

  “Well,” I said. “Ten minutes ago, he blew up a house with four men in it and announced to myself and that Honda Civic that I’m not his type.”

  “Uh-oh.” He playfully jabbed Joaquin in the wide gut. “I’ll tell you what I told her. No one cares about the noise your stomach makes during quarterly meetings as long as you have good people skills.”

  He chuckled at his own joke. Out of habit, I followed his lead, but sarcastically.

  “You look good,” he said. “It’s great to see you getting yourself out there.”

  I stared incredulously at him, then at Joaquin, then back at him.

  “Getting myself out there?” I asked. “Getting myself out there? What kind of world do you think we live in now?”

  I felt the anger and annoyance rising. It felt warm and familiar like an oversized sweater in his smug face. It was the years of trying to follow his every unannounced change of plans, or having him tell me I was failing after I explained to him that I would not sit in his house and wait for a TV to be delivered.

  “I don’t know what you’ve done,” I said. “But I’ve been almost been abandoned at an Arby’s, left for dead at the quarantine and been forced to flip through dick pics. Which are apparently still things!”

  He frowned. “What happened to Jake?” he asked. “Thought you two were going to work it out.”

  “Eh,” I said. “Long story short, his girlfriend tried to murder me after he got locked out of the quarantine and killed for a plate of sandwiches.”

  “Boy, that’s rough,” he said. “You okay?”

  “Eh.”

  “That had to be hard for you.”

  I folded my arms and looked away. “It’s in the past.”

  “A week ago,” he said. “I have to say, given that you’ve had two boyfriends die horrible deaths, you’ve taken it rather cavalierly. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’ve been grieving,” I said. “It’s a process.”

  He tilted his head in a sort of “I care” pose, nodded and reached over to pat me on the arm.

  “I have some wonderful wisdom for you, but you can only receive it if you’re ready,” he said.

  He raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Okay.”

  “Regulators have incented companies and individuals to conform to desired behaviors with threats of heavy fines,” he said. “Specific form, rate, disclosure and financial filing requirements carry serious penalties for non-compliance.”

  I heard words, but it was as though my mind picked them up, looked at them and shrugged.

  “I have no idea what you just said to me,” I said.

  “Then you’re clearly not ready for the gospel of risk management,” Robert said, holding his similarly named textbook in his hands.

  “This is your Bible?” I asked. “You’re still going on about this risk management nonsense? This is how we’re living?”

  “Come,” Robert said and offered me his hand. “There is a new way to Eden, and if you leave yourself open to it, you’ll find it just as I did.”

  Reluctantly, I took it as I left Joaquin all alone in the parking lot. “As long as there’s a big ass tub of Animal crackers,” I said.

  “I’m sure we can do something.”

  As we wandered up and down the food-packed aisles of the store, I looked at it in awe.

  “Why does no one else come here?” I asked. “How have you not been ransacked?”

  “Joaquin was holding it together when I found it,” he said. “But I’ve put together a crack team.”

  In the week since I had last seen Robert, he had run off with Rebecca the quarantine nurse, but along the way, they kept coming across stray women, all who begged for something to eat or some kind of shelter. He offered kind words thanks to his Secrets of Risk Management guide, reading it to whoever wanted to listen. He inspired lonely women disciples, who swore their loyalty and whatever else they had to give. He offered comfort and security in the texts, which had some kind of logic that I didn’t understand. At least that’s what he explained as he led me farther into the store.

  “So all these are your wives?” I asked and took a rather large jug of Gatorade from the shelf.

  He nodded. “It’s really everything I’ve wanted, and they all can’t wait for whatever it is I have to say.”

  He looked out into the distance with a dreamy look in his eyes.

  “It’s like a never ending staff meeting.”

  He explained to me that he met Joaquin when he discovered the Costco. Joaquin had been living inside behind the cases of dog food when he caught Robert’s two wives trying to break in. At first, he’d tried to seduce them into staying for vanilla wafers and bubble bath. Instead, they ran away and alerted Robert, who came down and told him to get his act together and that he’d be useless in any organization. Joaquin was inspired and prompted to tears. He promised to do anything for change and the chance to be half as successful. Robert felt bad and made a deal with him. He gave Joaquin a job and a picture of me, one from the Mitchellwide directory, and told him that if he could find me and get access to Costco, he’d be given lifelong employment on a seat on Robert’s right hand.

  “Like an actual chair?” I asked as I pantomimed a chair with my hands.

  “It’s figurative,” he said. “I speak in metaphors. Keep up.”

  “What else are you doing?” I asked and took large gulps of Mountain Blue flavored Gatorade. “It’s a wonder you all haven’t been murdered yet.”

  Robert shook his head. “Rebecca’s useless, but there’s a girl named Rachel who’s something special. She has a real can-do attitude when it comes to stabbing someone with a shiv or shooting them from a rooftop. That’s a valuable skill, Verdell. The keys to effective management are to find people with potential to make your team better.”

  “I thought Randy had potential,” I said. “Can you blame me for just wanting to have food and TV on hand?”

  “This is even better.” He nodded in agreement. “You can be part of the winning team and not feel the need to feel complete with a man.”

  I shrugged and sighed heavily. “For the last time, I’m not desperate to find someone. Even if they were desperate to find me. Which apparently no one is.”

  “You just need to find your purpose,” Robert said. “Which you will.”

  A high-pitched argument suddenly broken out near the frozen foods section.
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  “We agreed, I get the last one, you walking pork roast!” yelled one of the women.

  “Girls!” Robert said patiently. “Let’s calm it down over there. Don’t make me set up a thirty minute update meeting with you.”

  The voices died down.

  “You do seem calmer and more centered,” I said. “It’s like you’ve reached a love of management only few have dreamed of.”

  “Married life in the end times has taught me quite a few things,” he said. “We have to fight for the things we want, and the old rules just don’t apply.”

  “Which marriage?” I asked. “The one from last week or the one from three days ago?”

  He shrugged. “External regulatory, peer and social forces play a big role, however, penalties and incentives are a primary driver,” he said. “It may sound cliché, but studies show motivating individuals often requires an incentive carrot.”

  “What is that?” I asked, confused. “Are you memorizing that risk management book now?”

  He took it out from his robe and pressed it to his forehead. “The more you read into this book, the more it shares its secrets with you.”

  “You realize that you’re not making sense anymore, right?”

  “Communication is give and take,” he said. “You’re just taking. It’s time to give.”

  We passed another aisle, this one full of t-shirts and sweatpants. “Speaking of give and take, I could do inventory. Or tell the others to do it instead of killing people. I’m a great delegator.”

  “Not too late to give Joaquin a shot,” he said, then walked off. “Keeping options open is a great motivating factor.”

  “For who?” I called out. He didn’t answer.

  In true Robert fashion, he called a meeting in the food area of Costco. Just before it, he pulled me aside as I walked toward the bathroom.

  “Should we put together an agenda?” he asked. “What do you think?”

  “For what?” I asked. “What are we going to talk about?”

  He nodded. “Women need to be guided. Put them in a room together with no boundaries and it’s just going to be a Tupperware party or witchcraft.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Nice,” I said. “So what do you normally talk about with these women?”

  “Well,” he said. “I’d introduce you.”

  “Great.”

  “I’d have them take a vote on whether to keep you or send you back?”

  I was annoyed. “Then what was the point of sending Joaquin the charm school graduate to come and find me?”

  “A good manager finds good help,” he said. “I thought you’d like to be considered.”

  I was pleased. Finally, I had Robert’s approval.

  The women, seven of us total, all of varying ages and body types, happily sat around his feet, drinking in every word he said. Beforehand, he took me aside near the section with paper shredders. Once the women had gathered in the food court section, he paced back and forth, looking at each one. Joaquin sat on a counter where pizza had once been sold, glaring at me. I turned away.

  “Ladies,” Robert began. “We have a new member to the family,” he said. “She is to be accepted. We have been on a great journey together, and I’m considering her for a pivotal role. She’s going to make us a better organization as we begin to fulfill our goals for this new world.”

  “I love you, Robert!” one of the women cried.

  He winked at her. “Right back at you,” he said. “Verdell, get up here.”

  I obeyed and took inventory of these women’s faces. There was no acceptance there. There was judging. A lot of judging—not to mention a unanimous look in their eyes that none of them were going to call me friend.

  Rebecca raised her hand. “Excuse me,” she snapped. “You seem familiar.”

  I nodded. “Yes. You gave me a shot. Then you and Robert ran away and abandoned me there at the quarantine. But you were in love, so…”

  I just let my voice drift away, which didn’t faze her in the least bit. She snapped her fingers.

  “I remember you,” she said. “You’re that monster who was responsible for six deaths at the quarantine.”

  I empathically shook my head. “No, no, no, no,” I said. “You’ve got it wrong. I didn’t kill anyone.”

  “That boy’s only crime was to love you,” Rebecca said. “And you threw him away like garbage. All in exchange for some sandwiches.”

  “Not true,” I said. “This story has clearly gone off the rails.”

  “You stole food from a child and then hit him with it.”

  “Nope,” I said. “Not true.”

  “I heard you fed another boyfriend to Darren Warren,” she said. “The Darren Warren.”

  “These are all rumors,” I protested, raising my voice. “Does no one check their sources?”

  “I was there,” the woman said. “I remember it. Darren was a monster, and you found him food. You got away. It was inspirational.”

  I gasped. “Hey, yeah!” I said, vaguely remembering her as one of Darren’s minions. I also remembered her tying Bruce down on the ground as Darren went to town with one of his cannibal ceremonies.

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Rachel.” She offered her hand to me, which I shook.

  “But we’re getting off track,” I said. “And Robert will tell you, I didn’t feed my ex-boyfriend—”

  The women folded their arms, except for Rachel.

  “I’ll vote for her,” she said.

  “Look, for those of you still in doubt, we had long since broken up since the incident,” I said. “But it doesn’t matter since I told him not to get involved, but he did anyway. I cannot emphasize this enough. It was his choice. Ask Rachel—” I gestured to her. “They would have killed me.”

  “Remember,” I gestured with my arms. “Did. Not. Kill,” I said. “Robert, you remember. You tell them.”

  He rubbed his hands together. “Well, I really wasn’t there, so I couldn’t say what did or didn’t happen.”

  “Come on,” I said. “Really?”

  He shrugged. “I like the strong arguments coming out of this discussion.”

  “She set fire to a house that had four unarmed men inside,” Joaquin said.

  The women gasped, almost simultaneously.

  “That was you!” I said. “And no one asked you to participate.”

  “The point is,” Robert addressed his followers, his risk management book open in front of him like a preacher with a Bible. “She’s a survivor and a very seasoned one. She has skills that we are going to find invaluable as we take this new world by storm.”

  One woman raised her hand. “Can she fix that dripping in the bathroom?” she asked.

  “I’m really more of an organizer than a tinkerer,” I said. “Still don’t know how to cook over an open fire.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short,” he said. “You’re a murderous shark, and we’re going to make the most of that.”

  He slapped me on the back, way too hard, and laughed.

  “Why is that so funny?” I asked.

  “Let’s put it to the vote,” he said. “Raise your hands for no.”

  Joaquin, Rebecca and one other woman raised their hands.

  “And to stay?”

  The rest of the women raised their hands. Robert rubbed his together.

  “Guess that’s that.”

  We spent the night in that Costco. The women slept in large dog beds, but I was banished, newbie rule, so I spent the night on a pile of hoodies in a bin, which I found decently comfortable. I woke up a few times during the night, able to hear Robert and Joaquin, muttering. I looked up to see them drawing things over a dry erase board.

  Costco had an amazing amount of old breakfast pastries still in plastic covered packages tha
t Robert’s clan chowed down on. They were stale and tough, but it was food. Robert ate handfuls of Apple Jacks out of a massive four-pound box while perched on a counter with an empty soda dispenser.

  “Ladies,” he said. “Let’s get our weekly staff call up and running.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. Some things just will not die, Apocalypse or not.

  “Call?” I asked. “Who are we calling?”

  “We’re calling our hearts and minds together. We’ve been enormously blessed,” he said. “But it’s a waste to have all these resources and not make the most of them. So we’re going to be entrepreneurs and start a business.”

  I raised my hand. He waved it away.

  “My wives. And Verdell,” he said. “You’re all so beautiful, and it’s a shame the world as we know it, doesn’t know it. So as of this moment on, I’m turning this Costco into a gentlemen’s club. I’m taking suggestions for names.”

  I raised my hand again. “What about me?”

  “Look, I wouldn’t say you’re classically pretty, but—”

  “What if it’s a question and a name suggestion?” I asked.

  “That name better be good.”

  “H-How about Robert’s Ill-Advised Mistake?” I sputtered.

  “Question denied.”

  “This is a terrible idea,” I said. “And you’re putting us in danger.”

  Over the next few days, the girls worked really hard. They built an area with supplies from the store that made it look somewhat presentable as a strip club. They made a sign that just said, “NAKED GIRLS” and hung it up outside. Four additional women straggled in from the outside, begging for shelter and a job. Robert sent me to turn them away and then me again to chase them out of the store after one of them pushed me down and ran inside. I chased her down and told her she could keep a supersized jar of applesauce if she left. She agreed, but more importantly, people started to come in—people who looked worse for wear, near zombiehood, but still willing to part with whatever they had for the chance to see a strange woman’s nipples. They lined up even before Robert opened the doors.

  Rachel cornered me while I tried to bathe in the small sink in the bathroom.

  “We have a problem,” she said. “None of us want to strip.”