Raging Storm

by Vannetta Chapman

  His teeth began to chatter, and he thought of the night he’d gone with Georgia to the Markham place. Tate had been shivering, and Georgia had said that he was going into shock. What had she done for that? Covered him with a blanket. Carter didn’t have one of those, but he did have a dry shirt in his backpack. He pushed himself tighter up against the bank, checking right and left for water moccasins. Did they come out in the rain? He suddenly wished he had paid closer attention to the unit on reptiles in his high school science class.

  He hugged the backpack to his chest, trying to ignore the overbearing pain in his leg, trying not to think about the mess he was in. Thunder crashed, and the rain fell in sheets. He could no longer see the opposite bank. He couldn’t see anything but water falling from the sky.

  He thought again of unzipping the backpack but found his fingers were numb. The tree’s branches were doing a good job protecting him from the rain, but he was sitting in water. He needed to get higher.

  Leaning forward, he slid the straps of the backpack over his arms and then carefully turned on his stomach to look for something to grab hold of—a rock, a tree root, and then a clump of grass. He was halfway up the bank when he reached for another root, and it slithered—long and shiny and whipping its head back and forth.

  Carter released the snake, jerked his hand away, lost his balance, and slid back down the bank into the water with a splash.

  FIFTY-SEVEN

  Max didn’t drive directly to the campus, which at first Shelby failed to notice. But then she did.

  “Why did you turn left?”

  “Trying to avoid trouble.”

  “What kind?” She craned her neck in the opposite direction. “Oh. Road’s blocked.”

  “Yeah. That seems to be the case on every access point to the south of the university.”

  “So we go around.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Do you think it will be better to the north?”

  “I don’t think it can be worse.”

  He maintained a low speed, zigzagging through the streets and skyscrapers of downtown Austin. Were there people in the tall business centers? He could crane his neck and see broken windows, but little more. The crowds were growing as the sun rose. A few people stopped to stare at their parade of two vehicles, but most who were on the street continued to plod along—head down, shoulders slumped, intent on whatever errand had brought them out in the morning’s heat.

  The sky was overcast, and it seemed to Max that the barometric pressure was changing. He rubbed the muscles on his neck, as if he might be able to feel a migraine coming, but they’d never been like that for him. Never predictable. No, they crashed across him like a mighty wave, leaving him weak at best and occasionally unconscious.

  “I still don’t understand what happened back there.” Shelby pulled her feet up into the seat and wrapped her arms around her knees. Max was instantly swept into the past, when he was eighteen and she was seventeen. When life made sense.

  “About Danny, you mean.”

  “Yeah. About Danny.” She rubbed a sleeve across her nose, but for now the tears seemed to have dried up.

  “I guess I can understand his thinking, though it doesn’t justify his actions.”

  “So explain it to me.” She rested her head on the bridge formed by her knees and arms. “I want to know…to understand what we’re up against.”

  Max turned north once more, praying that this road would be open. As far as he could see, it was, which didn’t mean it was safe.

  “Danny’s subscribing to the survival of the fittest outlook, and he plans on being one of the survivors.”

  “At any cost? Even at the…at the death of his friends?”

  “I don’t know that you or I or even Carter could ever have counted ourselves as Danny’s friend. He knew us, sure, but—”

  “No. You’re wrong. He was there for me. When Alex died, those first few years I was alone…or…or felt alone, Danny was there. He wanted to help.”

  Max glanced at her and found her resting her cheek against her knees and staring at him. “Yeah, but something changed along the way. Right? He stopped coming by. He didn’t call anymore.”

  “I thought he was busy.”

  “And he was—helping to run Abney and doing a fine job of it.”

  Shelby shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense. How could a person’s entire outlook shift so completely? So quickly?”

  “Probably he’s been changing for years, moving toward a more egocentric worldview. The flare didn’t turn him that way, though this situation we’re in might have pushed him over.”

  Max had passed the far northwest corner of the campus, though he’d kept a two-block distance between himself and the university buildings. Now he turned east, toward the park he remembered from his days of attending school there. He circled it twice before he pulled to a stop.

  “Are these people…are they living here?”

  The park was filled with tents, quickly thrown up shelters, and even a few RVs.

  “Looks like it.”

  “Why?”

  “Safety in numbers, I suppose. Come on.”

  It was only a few minutes past eight in the morning, but already people were stirring. Patrick had parked behind them. He and Bianca met them between the cars.

  “What’s our plan?” Patrick asked.

  “Don’t have one yet. If we walk south on this road, we’ll intersect Dean Keeton Street. Make a right, proceed three blocks, and we’ll be at the student health center.”

  “Where the meds will be.” Bianca had hooked her arm through Shelby’s. To Max, they looked like two coeds out for a stroll.

  “Hopefully.”

  “Think the cars will be safe?” Patrick asked.

  Max glanced around, finally spying a teenaged boy—red hair, soiled shirt, and facial hair that was coming in patchy. Walking over to him, he asked, “Do you live around here?”

  “In the park. Our apartment building burned down the first week.”

  “Want to earn a hundred bucks?”

  “And buy what with it? The stores are empty in case you haven’t noticed.”

  Max sighed, thought of their backpacks in the cargo area of the Dodge. The packs were the only things Danny hadn’t taken.

  “Fair point. I have four protein bars in my pack. You watch our vehicles until we return, make sure nothing happens to them, and they’re yours.”

  “I could just break into your car and take them.”

  “You could, but then I’d have to find you and take them back.”

  The teen’s look of defiance held for another few seconds, and then he smiled and ducked his head. “Nah, man. I’m just kidding you. Four protein bars? My family will like that real good. They’ll think I’m a hero. But if anyone with guns comes, I’m out of here.”

  “Deal.”

  Max hurried back to his group. “We’re good, but I don’t know for how long.”

  They decided it would be best to leave their packs in the car to hopefully make them less of a target.

  “How will we carry the meds?” Shelby asked.

  “We’ll figure that out when we get there.” Max tried to look confident. “We’ll think of something, but first we have to get on campus.”

  Patrick hustled back to the Mustang, retrieved his knife, and stuck it in his pocket. “Just in case,” he muttered.

  They tried walking south to Dean Keeton, but all entrances into the university were blocked—trash Dumpsters, automobiles, even an old phone booth had been stacked up at the street crossings to keep anyone from getting through. Sitting on top of the stacks were teens with guns, surly expressions, and—Max worried—itchy trigger fingers. They turned west on 27th Street without even attempting to talk to anyone.

  It was when they started to turn south again, this time on University Avenue, that the trouble started.

  FIFTY-EIGHT

  Shelby froze when the young man toting a shotgun shouted “Stop right
there.”

  She shot a glance at Max, who looked completely unfazed by the weapon pointed their direction.

  “This is our street,” the man added.

  Or was he a man? His head was shaved, gauges glittered in his ears, and from where Shelby stood, she could see the tattoos snaking up his arms. Short and wiry and boldly defending his world. He could have been a teenager. He could have been a kid between his freshman and sophomore year who had taken a job at one of the local barbecue joints to finance his summer in Austin. But now he was carrying a gun, proclaiming the street his territory.

  A man appeared on top of the barricade, beside the teen with the shotgun.

  “We’re only passing through,” Patrick said.

  “No, you’re not,” the teen said. “You’re turning around before I let loose with this shotgun.”

  Patrick’s hands clenched at his side, but he produced a tight smile and said, “Your street, huh? Looks to me like it’s a City of Austin street.”

  “There is no City of Austin anymore. Hadn’t you noticed? Look around and then turn around before I put some shells in your bad attitude.” The teen laughed.

  Patrick lurched forward, but Shelby, Bianca, and Max were on him within three steps—pulling him back, assuring him they’d find another way.

  The man beside the teen shook his head and said calmly, “You have one minute to vacate the area or we will—”

  Max took a step forward and attempted to reason with the two, but the guards weren’t listening. The man raised his voice to drown out Max, and the teen trained his shotgun on Patrick, and Bianca started screaming at everyone to calm down. Shelby was the only one who noticed a young Asian man pick up his pace and half jog to the middle of the confrontation. “Twenty-Ninth and Hemphill Park,” he muttered as he pushed through their group.

  He stopped in front of the barricade and raised his hands in a “what gives” gesture. “Hey, Reggie. You going to waste your time on these fools or buy some of this meat?”

  “You have meat?” Both of the guards turned their attention to the man’s wares—what looked to Shelby like a few squirrels and some fish.

  “Let’s go,” she hissed.

  They backed away from the blockade quickly. Once they were out of sight, everyone began talking at once.

  Shelby attempted to make herself heard above the group. “The Asian kid was trying—”

  “You give me ten minutes, and I will be through that checkpoint,” Patrick promised. “I’ll teach both of those punks a lesson while I’m at it.”

  “He said something about—”

  Max leaned against a wall. “We’re not getting in that way.”

  “We can. Ten minutes. That’s all it would take—”

  “Cállate.” Bianca’s voice was low but adamant. “Listen to Shelby. She’s trying to tell us what the kid said.”

  “Oh, I heard the kid and his talk about putting shells in my bad attitude. He hasn’t seen a bad attitude yet.” Patrick’s face had turned a bright red as he continued to clench and unclench his right fist.

  “The other kid—the Asian one.” Shelby waited until she had everyone’s attention. “He said Twenty-Ninth and Hemphill Park.”

  “You’re sure?” Max asked.

  “Yes, I’m sure. Now where is that?”

  Max pointed to the northwest. “Two blocks, but it’s the wrong direction.”

  Rain had begun to fall, causing the deserted streets around them to take on a nightmarish quality. The sky had darkened, and thunder rumbled in the distance.

  Bianca swiped at her face. “Can’t hurt to hear what he has to say.”

  “Could be a trap,” Patrick countered.

  “Could be, but did you notice he was the only person we’ve seen who is actually working? Those squirrels and fish didn’t fall out of the sky and into his hands.”

  “I imagine food is getting scarce inside the barricades.” Max nodded and tugged his ball cap lower. “Maybe we’ve found ourselves an entrepreneur.”

  He turned and started away from the campus.

  “And if we have?” Shelby ran to catch up with Max’s long strides.

  “Then we’ll think of something to trade him. Whatever he wants, as long as he can get us inside.”

  FIFTY-NINE

  The intersection was easy enough to find. Shelby tried not to stare at the rapid transit bus turned over on its side or the newspaper vending machine with a single paper still facing the window—proclaiming that FUN in the Sun could be found in central Texas. She turned her back on those reminders of life before. Instead, she paced as they waited ten and then fifteen minutes. She paced and worried and prayed and racked her brain for a way onto the UT campus.

  “He’s not coming,” Patrick said.

  “Maybe we should try to get in from another direction.” Bianca glanced from Max to Patrick. “Or maybe we should split up.”

  “No.” Max shook his head, his tone adamant. “We’re not doing that. Not unless we have to, and we don’t have to. We’ll find a way in.”

  They were standing against an apartment building that hadn’t burned—but all the windows were busted out, the doors had been torn off the hinges, and the walls chalked over with graffiti.

  Keep Austin Weird

  Flare up

  Judgment day

  Zombies are coming

  NOT safe

  Shelby traced the word safe, feeling the solidness of the brick facade against her fingers, trying to pull her mind from the catastrophe she was living. Just as despair threatened to overwhelm her, she heard footsteps and looked up to see the kid who had intervened for them.

  “You guys aren’t from around here, are you?”

  Max stepped forward. “No. We’re here looking for—”

  “I don’t want to hear any details. Not here.”

  “Here is where you told us to come.”

  “That was to keep you from getting shot by Dr. Steiner and his henchman. You want to talk? We have to go somewhere else—somewhere not on the street.”

  He led them down the block, around the corner to the back of a burned-out building, and then down a short set of outside stairs. Pulling a key from his pocket, he unlocked the door.

  The basement apartment was surprisingly clean. In fact, it looked as though it still belonged in the preflare world. Shelby studied the University of Texas posters tacked to the wall, beanbag chairs tossed in two corners, and futon couch placed against the room’s longest wall. Based on the pillows tucked into one end of the futon, she figured it was doubling as a bed.

  Turning in a circle, she realized it was a one-room apartment, with a kitchen on one end and a bathroom walled off in one corner. It was what her generation had called an efficiency. Other than the prevailing smell of smoke, Shelby would have never known they were under a burned-out building.

  “You live here?” Max asked.

  “Yeah. I got lucky when the building burned. The fire started on the second floor and spread to the top. The first floor was wrecked because the ceiling fell through, but my place was spared.”

  “Aren’t you afraid it will all collapse on you?” Patrick glanced up at the ceiling skeptically, as if it might crash down on them at any moment.

  “I’m more afraid of sleeping in the park.”

  Bianca gestured toward the burned out floors above them. “How did it happen?”

  “The fire? Someone didn’t put out a cigarette the first night of the flare. Kind of ironic, really. Might have made sense if it had been a candle that caught curtains on fire or something related to the flare, but no. Just some idiot who fell asleep smoking. Could have happened any other day.”

  “Didn’t the fire department come?” Bianca asked.

  “Sure, but remember the phones weren’t working. By the time they got here…well, there wasn’t much left.” He hesitated before he said, “My name’s Lanh. Lanh Vu.”

  Max introduced each member of their group, and then Patrick asked, “Vietnam
ese?”

  “Yeah. My parents are still overseas. They sent me here for school. Didn’t turn out quite like we expected.”

  “Why did you help us?” Max asked. “How did you know you could trust us?”

  “You’re not on Steiner’s side. That’s all I needed to know.”

  “That name is familiar.” Max sat on a stool and pulled off his ball cap, shaking the water onto the floor. “Doubt it’s the same person, though. I went to school here twenty-five years ago.”

  “Same guy. He’s old now—close to sixty. Oh, and did I mention crazy? He teaches…no, he taught, economics. Guess the flare pushed him over the edge.”

  “What edge?” Bianca asked.

  Shelby watched Lanh’s reaction closely, trying to decide if they could trust him. How would she know, though? She’d thought she could trust Danny, and he had turned on them. If she couldn’t judge someone she’d known for years, how could she judge someone she’d just met?

  “The edge between sanity and madness,” Lanh said. “Word is that when the grid went down, he lost millions that he had tied up in the stock market, though how he had millions to invest, since he was working as a college professor, is a little suspect.”

  “And now he’s in charge of…what exactly?” Patrick sank to the floor, his back against the wall.

  Shelby and Bianca took a seat on the futon. She was suddenly aware of all they’d been through since waking at six that morning. She’d dared to hope she might be home by now. Everything had started out well. She’d had the meds. As she’d stuffed her notebook and pen into her pack, she had dared to imagine High Fields and the smile on Carter’s face as they drove up.

  “Steiner took over the northeastern sectors of the campus.” Lanh walked over to a map of the school that he’d stapled to his wall. “His territory covers the entire East Mall, up through the fine arts and law buildings, and over to the library and museum.”

  Max had followed him to the map. “Engineering?”

  “That too.”

  “How does somebody like Steiner get control of a third of the campus in less than three weeks?”