In the Aftermath: Burning of the Dawn

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In the Aftermath: Burning of the Dawn Page 37

by Coleman Thompson


  “Who is that?” Serena asked; mostly speaking to herself. What the mystery women was offering sounded too good to be true, yet she told it accurately regarding the dangers in Nevada. If she was honest in her assurances then Los Angeles was exactly what Serena had been looking for.

  “Dinah Ortega,” Mary replied directly. “Lieutenant general in the U.S. Air Force… never heard of her.”

  “You think she’s telling the truth?” Anthony was skeptical about Dinah. She sounded honest enough, but he knew better than to be too trusting of others. Los Angeles was not far away. His mother could make the drive within a single day’s time with little difficulty, assuming there were no obstacles to slow her down. There are always obstacles.

  “She wasn’t lying about Nevada,” Serena answered. “I wish there was more to the message.”

  “Wow, first Las Vegas and now L.A.,” Anthony relinquished an honest smile. “Both have power!”

  “So she says.” Mary was not impressed. Dinah had said there were thousands still living in Los Angeles; Mary was having difficulty believing that. Finding enough resources for three people was hard enough work; doing it for thousands just didn’t seem feasible.

  “You don’t believe her?” Serena queried.

  “About the power? Yeah, I do. If the idiots in Las Vegas could pull it off, I’m sure the military could do the same in L.A.,” Mary took her golf club from the countertop and twirled it from hand to hand. “But feeding a thousand people and askin’ for even more to join the feast? Doesn’t that strike you as a little… odd? Have you ever seen the movie Delicatessen?”

  “It’s a trap.” Anthony stated dejectedly. “I guess that kinda goes without saying.”

  “It might not be,” Mary did not wish to smash anyone’s hopes or discourage her new friends in any way, but she was not going to allow them to walk into an uncertain situation with their minds too open. “It’s just safe to be cautious is all… obviously.”

  “We should take the radio with us.” Serena proclaimed. She wanted to hope for the best, but Mary was not speaking foolishly. There was every chance that this broadcast was meant to lure people in for devious purposes. Nevertheless, there was something in Dinah’s voice that almost convinced Serena to believe in what the woman was saying. “I agree, it could be a trap, but we should keep listening anyway.”

  They took the radio with them. Mary also brought the golf club and Anthony grabbed a spool of duct tape and some rope; nothing else was taken from the sporting goods store, for now. Mary led Serena and Anthony around the city, both by foot and by vehicle, mostly to get mother and son accustomed to the area and to point out important places where food, shelter, or weapons could be acquired if needed. He still couldn’t shake the feelings he had regarding the lake, but Anthony was steadily learning to accept Tahoe. It was a nice place: untouched by war, unviolated by humans, and only mildly abused by the Sayona. Staying for a while might not be so bad. If it were being told true, Los Angeles was where he wanted to be (assuming the woman on the radio was speaking honestly), but sometimes wanting too much could lead to an unhappy outcome.

  “Sometimes you just gotta be content with being content,” Mary preached. The friendly debate over the pros and cons of Los Angeles was ongoing in the car as Serena drove them away from the towns and back to their new, temporary home in the hills above Emerald Bay. “Know a good thing when you got it! Goin’ for the big fish might just get ya speared in the face by a fuckin’ marlin.”

  “Going for that marlin could also snag you a bigger meal,” Serena argued. “I know it’s dangerous in this world, but sometimes… bigger is better.”

  “Bigger is always better, baby.” Mary grinned. “But it’s not always practical. The big fish is nice, it gives you a lot to chew on for sure, but big fish are also full of mercury. Better to have many little fishes than just one big one.”

  “Live now; hurt later.” Serena stated. Mary’s argument made sense, but Serena did not like living in the unknown. She was not a risk-taker of any sort in this new world, but the potential of a safe and secure home was something that should at least be considered, in her opinion. “If something great is out there, attempting to attain it could be worth some risk.”

  “The Daisy Effect.” Mary spoke in an insincere, haughty accent.

  “The Daisy Effect?” Serena pondered; wondering if Daisy was the name of one of Mary’s many weapons. “You name that golf club Daisy? Will hitting me with it be the effect?”

  “Ha! No, but that’s a good one!” Mary replied. That was, indeed, a good name for her golf club; Mary would definitely consider it. “Have you ever seen The Great Gatsby?”

  “No, but I’ve read the book.” Serena answered. She had read the book on two occasions: once when she was in high school as an assignment and again years later while in EMT training for her own leisure.

  “Good enough,” Mary preferred films; reading took too long. “You remember Daisy, right?”

  “I do.”

  “You see, Gatsby was obsessed with Daisy; he loved her, he wanted her, he worshipped her, but he couldn’t have her, at least not at first, so he spent all those years workin’ to obtain her – all the while building her up as this woman of all women; this grand prize; the embodiment of all his happiness.” Mary loved stories about obsessions. She had dealt with a few of her own in some form or another over the years, so, factual or fictional, it was comforting for her to observe the plight of others in familiar situations. “Then what happened? He built her up with such majestic grandeur that there was no possible way that anybody could ever live up to those expectations; let alone little Daisy, who really wasn’t that great anyway. His obsession became his ruin.”

  “His obsession gave him purpose. He became a rich, successful man; he had a nice home; the respect of others…” Serena was not as fond of obsession as Mary was, but she did respect a person who worked hard for what they wanted – factual or fictional.

  “Motherfucker was surrounded by pussy! He could’ve had as much as he wanted, but noooooooo… they weren’t good enough. He had to have that one big pussy – the one full of poison.” Mary’s recent addition to the debate got Anthony’s attention. He had obtained the potato bag from the trunk and was rummaging through it to see what all his mother had gathered before Mary distracted him. Anthony adored Mary’s bluntness. It might have made him occasionally uncomfortable, but that was okay. She was amusing and energetic and infinitely good for his morale.

  “He might’ve crashed and burned in the end, but he accomplished a great deal to get what he wanted.” Serena was dubious when it came to Mary’s bluntness. She wasn’t particularly fond of some of Mary’s more crude innuendos and prurient remarks around her son, but Serena never considered chastising the girl for her ways. It was not out of fear that Serena hesitated; she was confident that Mary would not be offended by anything she said. The truth of it was that Serena liked the way Mary carried herself. At times she could be immature, rash, and obnoxious, but she was still a woman grown and a woman experienced in many things. Her son also adored her.

  “Yes he did… too bad he never got a chance to enjoy any of it.” Mary turned from Serena and looked to Anthony. “How ‘bout you, little brother, what do you think? Lots of little fish or one big one?”

  “No comment.” Anthony smiled. He spoke the truth; mostly because he was not sure if Mary’s fish were actual or metaphorical.

  “No, no, no, that won’t do… ya gotta have some kind of opinion.”

  “If it’s safe, go for the big fish.” Anthony preferred to play it safe, but a little risk was okay, too, so long as it did not involve any night-prowling monsters. “If it’s not safe, the little ones are better than nothing.”

  Mary eyed Anthony perplexingly for a moment. “That’s the diplomatic answer… I don’t want diplomatic.” Mary’s stare, like her tone, was almost carnal in its nature. It took Anthony back a little, yet it also gave him a strange sense of confidence. “Give it to me,
baby – rough if need be.” Mary added.

  “I’d want to see this big fish first; make sure it’s real.” Anthony was not certain what Mary was referring to by her fish, but to him it was going to symbolize Los Angeles. “I’d want to know more about it; I’d want to learn everything I could about it and whether or not it was worth any risks… I’d want to make sure that it doesn’t become our ruin, above all else.”

  Mary’s odd stare instantly faded and was replaced with a devious grin. “So young, yet so wise…” Mary leaned forward and poked him on the nose. “Well said, my brother.”

  “Thank you… sister.” Anthony happily went back to rummaging through the potato sack. Amongst the canned goods and coffee containers (his mother did love coffee) something stood out: some kind of box. Anthony removed it from the bag. It was a box of mini-blueberry muffins. “A box of muffins, mom?”

  “They fell in by accident. They looked good though, so I left ‘em.” Serena did enjoy her muffins, too, but she had no doubt that the box in her bag was long past its shelf-life.

  Anthony turned the box over to check the expiration date. He found it and read it aloud. “Best if sold by 02-14-2037.” He had no clues as to what the actual day was, but it was obvious that this box was well past its prime.

  “Does it really say that?” Serena asked. Her son’s words sent a cold chill through her body.

  “Whoa, that’s some creepy shit right there!” Mary was more amused than frightened.

  Anthony soon realized what was so unsettling about the date. It was V–Day: the day humankind defeated the alien aggressors, and the last day that humans would rule the Earth. Radios were the primary source of information after the invaders had taken out the power grids. Anthony remembered the day the aliens were defeated. The victory was sweet, yet so very short. The voices on the radio went from festive to concerned as word of the arrival of the Sayona spread. Soon after that the radios went silent, until today.

  “Yeah,” Anthony responded. “Creepy.” He took one of the muffins from the box. It was hard as stone. It had little crystals on it, too – giving it an odd sort of beauty.

  “I wouldn’t eat that.” Mary suggested. “Your teeth will hate you for it.”

  “I won’t eat it… I just wanted to see it.”

  “May I?” Mary presented her hand to Anthony in a gesture towards the muffin. He gently handed her the petrified pastry. Mary took the muffin between two fingers and examined it. “It’s been too long since I’ve had anything sweet that wasn’t out of a can… other than the gum you gave me.”

  Serena, too, was eyeing the muffin in Mary’s fingers. However, she soon took a keener interest in something else. Mary’s ring finger had an odd tattoo around it. It was two thin, black bands connected by a string of diamond shaped links – almost like some kind of zany, superficial wedding ring.

  “You were never married by chance were you, Mary?” Serena asked, though she was not sure why she asked. Mary being married was almost laughable. Still, maybe it wasn’t so impossible to imagine somebody out there who could contain, or at least moderate, the magnetic Mary Murder… even though Mary herself also found the question amusing.

  “Really?” Mary laughed. “Me, married? Well, almost actually… a few times. But I got bored with most of ‘em… I’m eclectic like that.”

  “Most, but not all?” Serena dared to pry further.

  Mary handed the muffin back to Anthony and then replied, “There was one that was a lil’ extra special.” She paused to quietly reflect on that one extra special individual.

  “The tattoo on your finger just made me curious.” Serena took Mary’s abnormal quietness as a hint to pry no further. Much like the way she was with gratitude, Mary was not fond of apologies, especially over something she would consider trivial, so Serena added none of her sympathies over a potentially bad memory she might or might not have triggered.

  “She gave this to me.” Mary spoke with a smile as she admired the inked ring around her finger. She then motioned towards the rest of her tattooed body. “A few of these are hers, too.”

  “She seems to have had talent.” Serena spoke truthfully; she was aiming to be comfortingly kind as well, but she still spoke the truth. The tattooed ring, though a little strange, was remarkably precise and very well drawn.

  “She was brilliant,” Mary added. She was no longer reflecting, and had moved on to boasting instead. “Brilliant and beautiful and creative…”

  “What was her name?” Anthony asked out of curiosity, and possibly out of a slight, mostly subconscious, twinge of jealousy.

  “Jodelle,” Mary replied; her voice was spirited with stormy adoration. “Jodelle Annabelle – how I loved that beautiful, brilliant, crazy fuckin’ cunt.”

  Mary’s choice of affectionate adjectives was ambiguously peculiar. Serena thought so at least, and she was curious enough to want to know more. Mary had claimed that she would give her life to protect Anthony and she would likely do the same for Serena as well, so where was Jodelle now? If Mary truly loved this mystery woman, Serena was sure that Mary would never leave her behind – dead or alive.

  “May I ask what happened to her?” Serena asked.

  “I’m not sure what happened to her.” Mary answered.

  “You two weren’t together when the war started?” Serena presumed the war had separated them in some way. She had almost forgotten that sometimes people just simply drift apart, much like her and Anthony’s father. Mary was different though: a perpetrator, not a victim. Why would she hurt somebody she loved?

  “Together when it started and together when it ended.” Mary replied. “We stole, we fought, we fucked, and we killed – hand in hand… until I lost her, completely.”

  “I don’t understand.” Serena really didn’t understand. Whether Jodelle had been kidnapped or merely left Mary behind, it was difficult to tell what Mary was getting at.

  “I’m sorry; I’m bein’ vague.” Mary replied in a giggly tone. “When I said she was crazy, I didn’t mean cute & cuddly crazy like me. My Jodelle was the real deal: truly nuts. As in cannot-function-without-proper-medication nuts. I did everything I could to get her what she needed, but eventually the meds ran out. After that, it was only a matter of time before my Jodelle was no longer mine anymore.”

  “That’s sad,” said Anthony. A loved one dying was horrible enough. Having to leave one behind and never truly knowing their fate, Anthony could not image that kind of pain. “I’m very sorry.”

  “We’ve all loved and lost, little brother, but thank you.” Mary’s miserable memories did not discourage her vivaciousness; she spoke with no hints of despair or remorse. “I tried to stick it out with her, but she became obsessed with the Sayona. She wasn’t afraid of them… fuck, she wanted to see them, face-to-face. She was just too dangerous to be around. My girl was gone and I had others I had to take care of, especially myself. I took her back home, to Denver, and I left her there – just her and her monsters.”

  “You did what you had to do,” Serena spoke. “And I’m grateful for it. Staying with Jodelle would’ve killed you both, and without you, my son and I wouldn’t be here. She gave up herself for us, in a way.” Serena was not a big believer in fate, but what she said still sounded nice, she thought.

  “I guess you could look at it that way,” Mary granted. “It’s kinda weird though, call it my eighth sense if you will, but I don’t think she’s dead. If there’s anyone in this world who could lock eyes with the Sayona and live to grossly exaggerate the tale, it’d definitely be my Jodelle.”

  Eighth sense? Anthony quietly mused. What the hell happened to the sixth and seventh?

  Emerald Bay remained picturesque from the house in the hills that Serena, Anthony, and Mary would be occupying for the foreseeable future. Serena left most of her food stash in her car just in case they needed to leave in a hurry. She still brought a few items with her into the house for lunch. Lunch consisted of chicken noodle soup with some fruit cocktail for de
ssert. Everybody enjoyed their meal, and everybody was tired afterward. The last thirty-six hours had been exciting, terrifying, enlightening, and above all else: draining. Serena wanted to wait until nightfall before finally getting any sleep, but she wasn’t going to make it; neither was Mary or Anthony. They all staggered their way into the loft and set up one large pallet to sleep upon. No one bothered changing out of their wares; there was time enough for that tomorrow. Anthony ended up between Mary and his mother. He was very tired, but he feared sleep. Mary was out as soon as her head came to a rest on the makeshift pillows. The rifle, the revolver, and Amy the Axe all lay close by, along with the other items Mary had stuffed into her pockets. Serena did not last much longer than Mary. Long enough to wish her son goodnight, and then she, too, was fast asleep. Anthony lay quietly awake; fighting both sleep and tears. Yesterday was bad, one of the worst, but now it was over. Sleep overtook him eventually; with it came senseless dreams and haunting nightmares, but also sweet relief.

  It was dark when Anthony first awakened. The loft had no windows, but a ventilation duct covered with thick plastic wrapping let in a great deal of sunlight during the day. The daylight was long gone, however, and Anthony awoke to the screaming of the Sayona. The screams were only in his dreams; the loft, the house, and all of Emerald Bay were quiet. The cold sweat covering him gave him chills as Anthony looked into the dark abyss directly above. If he stood up straight he would hit his head upon the ceiling due to its proximity, yet he could not even see the roof in this thick darkness. The Sayona could see it, Anthony stated silently. He breathed heavily, not fully awake, but fully frightened of the darkness above him and all around him. The darkness could feel his fear, he could sense it, and the darkness was a friend to the Sayona. The touch of flesh upon his hand startled Anthony, but his fear rapidly abated.

  “If you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you, little brother.” Mary whispered the Nietzsche line as she took Anthony by the hand.

  Anthony fought to swallow the dryness in his throat. “What?” He asked hoarsely.

 

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