Fog City: A Short Story (Voices of the Apocalypse Book 5)

by Simone Pond

  “And you’re planning on fighting these bastards?”

  “They’re too powerful to fight, but there are groups going underground. We’re hiding in the woods and staying put until the worst of it is over. Eventually, we pool together our resources and fight back. I’m offering you a spot.”

  “In the underground?” I glanced at my black pencil skirt and high heels and laughed. Not exactly the underground type.

  Crow pulled out another weathered cigarette from his jacket and lit it up. I walked back over to the bed and took the cigarette, taking a long drag. I would’ve rather kissed him, but the timing felt off. Sure, we were all alone, sitting on the most exquisite bed I had ever seen, but we were talking about the end of society and rats jumping into a river. Kissing seemed inappropriate.

  The sky had shifted to black as the fog rolled in over the city. Crow leaned over and stubbed out the cigarette in one of the nearby candles. Then, without even asking, he pulled me toward his body and kissed me, easing me back onto the bed. I wanted Crow more than I wanted anything. More than I wanted to live to see another day. I didn’t care what was happening in the world, or that Los Angeles was going to burn, or that every city would eventually topple to the ground. I just wanted Crow.

  But he stopped.

  “Why?” I muffled into his ear.

  “We need to focus.”

  “You just made that impossible. I’ve been waiting a long time for this. You can’t stop now.”

  But he stayed stopped.

  “We have to get ready. Prepare.”

  “Can’t we just stay here until it’s over?” I kissed his neck, wanting him to finish what he started.

  “None of this will be here much longer. The whole city will go down. We need to start gathering provisions, pack up a car and drive the hell out of here.”

  “Right now? You made it sound like we had time.”

  I didn’t want to leave the city without my family photo album, or my guitar. I hadn’t touched either in over two years, but I still wanted them. I also needed my pillow and the quilt my grandmother made before she passed away. I wanted to get my favorite coffee mug––the one with the illustration of the little girl holding a red balloon. What about shoes? I needed better shoes. And my toothbrush and hair products. I couldn’t live without my daily inspiration book.

  “My stuff . . . I need to get home and pack.”

  “We don’t have time. We can get some clothes on the way.”

  “Where in the hell are we going?” I yelled, feeling like the fog had seeped into the room and was suffocating me.

  “South.”

  “Toward the mass genocide? That makes no sense.”

  “No, we’ll head to the Central Coast. There are some people camping near Lake Nacimiento.”

  I couldn’t respond because I was still thinking about my apartment and all of the things I didn’t want to leave behind. I had spent the last seven years in my charming one-bedroom by Alamo Square. My little home was a sacred place. I loved sitting in my breakfast nook, sipping hot coffee and staring out over the picturesque vista. I had a great view of the “Painted Ladies” and the city beyond. I’d read from my daily inspiration book, thinking about the possibilities that lay ahead. How one day I might even buy a pretty pink Victorian. I slept peacefully at night. I walked around the park on the weekends. I liked my routine. Crow was screwing up everything.

  “I can’t go.” I stood up and walked toward the front of the office. “I’m going back to my apartment and hiding out there until this shit blows over.”

  As I reached the double doors, I heard glass shattering and heavy objects being smashed against the walls and other office doors. Then I heard a gunshot. I spun back around, bumping into Crow.

  “This is crazy. Why is this happening?” I pounded on his chest as though it were his fault.

  He stayed calm. “If it’s really important to you, we can stop by your place before we jet. But let’s wait here until things calm down out there.”

  “Think I’ll take a shower.”

  It might’ve been the booze, or all the end of the world talk, but suddenly I didn’t feel self-conscious about anything. As I walked to the bathroom, I removed my clothes, leaving a trail behind me. I turned around when I got to the door. For the first time since I had met Crow eight months earlier, he looked stumped.

  “You coming?” I asked, grinning.

  He ripped off his jacket and headed my way.

  ***

  After the shower, we went to the bed. The room was dark, along with the entire city. The fog laced between the tall buildings and lurked all around us. Crow eased me down onto the soft comforter.

  “You sure about this?” he asked, kissing my wet hair.

  “I was sure about this a long time ago.”

  He pulled me closer and kissed my forehead, my cheek, and finally my mouth. His lips were soft and fresh from the shower. I melted into him as we pressed together. His warm tongue touched mine and every fiber in my body pulsated. No more waiting. I started to climb on top of him, but heard the soft sound of someone snickering. Crow yanked me down and threw the comforter over my body. I had no idea what was happening. He jumped out of bed and stood in front of a man I didn’t recognize.

  “How’d you get in?” he yelled.

  “Same way you did,” he said, patting Crow on the shoulder.

  “What the hell are you doing here, Denson?” Crow shoved the man.

  “Thought I’d come find you in person. Time to get down to the lake.”

  By that point, I was irritated beyond belief. The kind of irritated that blurs your thinking, making you see red. His friend Denson had just ruined the second almost perfect moment in my life. I was starting to think Crow and I had bad timing. I sat up, keeping the comforter around my shoulders. “Are you serious? We were in the middle of something.”

  “Serious as a straight line, missy.” He smiled at me.

  Crow smacked the back of Denson’s head. “Keep your eyes to yourself.”

  I wrapped the comforter tighter, very unhappy about the turn of events.

  “I’m sorry I interrupted, missy, but Crow and I got business to take care of,” Denson said.

  “You could’ve waited a few more minutes,” I said.

  “Yeah, that’s probably all the fella’s got in him anyways.” Denson laughed.

  “Cool it.” Crow put his pants back on.

  It was over.

  “So that’s it? We’re done?” I asked.

  “I already offered you a spot.”

  “Yeah, but do you want me to come with you?” I know I sounded like a whiny love-struck teenager, but that’s exactly how I felt and I needed some validation. After all, I would’ve been uprooting my life to live in the forest with Crow and a bunch of strangers.

  “Whoa, just a minute there. We never said nothing about no lady friend tagging along. This one looks like a bag of trouble.”

  “You don’t even know me.”

  “Don’t need to.” He laughed. “I can tell by your taste in men.”

  Crow pushed him out away, ordering him to wait by the bar. “Sorry about him. He’s a little rough around the edges.”

  “He’s a jerk,” I said. “And I totally have blue balls now.”

  “Ladies don’t get blue balls.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I want you to come with me.”

  That would’ve been enough to convince me to go along, but like a greedy child, I wanted more. “Why do you want me to come?”

  “You make me feel like I can do anything.”

  I smiled in spite of my pent-up frustration. That made up for him not saying anything back when I had blurted out that I was in love with him. In fact, that trumped love by a thousand fold.

  “Okay, I’m coming with you. But I need some clothes.”

  “I’m sure we can find you something to wear.”

  He began opening panels in the walls where the CEO had stored
a bunch of items, ranging from business suits to sex toys. Crow handed me a pair of yoga pants, a matching top and hoodie, and some running shoes. I got dressed while he chatted with Denson over by the bar. I stared out at the dark city, where the layers of fog embraced the buildings and sifted through the empty streets. It felt like a dream, or that I was living someone else’s life. How could this be real? I was running away to join an underground team of Repatterning survivors. Just a few months ago, I was giving presentations in boardrooms. I had been too consumed with my job to notice the end was coming. But I was right in the heart of it––a cog in the machine that had contributed the end of times. My job was to make it look good. That crushed me more than anything. More than leaving my apartment in Alamo Square, and the pretty Victorians that lined the streets. It hit me that I’d never see my mother or my older brother again. The last time we got together was during the holidays, months ago. We hadn’t stayed in touch because their cell phones had been turned off. I didn’t even know if they were still in the Bay Area. I had been so involved with my work, I had lost track of everyone important in my life. Including myself.

  “You ready?” Crow came up behind me and massaged my shoulders, then he kissed my neck.

  “You’re only making my blue balls worse.” I laughed, wiping away some tears.

  “I promise you once we get settled by the lake, I’ll make up for it.”

  “So, this is it? Just leaving the city? Leaving everything behind.”

  “We can stop by your place if you still want to get your things.”

  If I had to leave behind my life in the glorious city by the Bay, I wanted to take some tokens with me. Otherwise, it would be as if I never really existed. And I wasn’t about to let the Repatterning erase everything.

  “I’d like to get my photo album. And my grandmother’s quilt. Maybe a toothbrush.” I zipped up my hoodie and walked with Crow toward the double doors.

  Denson nodded. “It’s ugly out there,” he warned.

  “Don’t worry about me,” I said.

  And I meant it.

  BOOKS BY SIMONE POND

  THE CITY CENTER

  THE NEW AGENDA

  THE MAINFRAME

  THE TORRENT

  VOICES OF THE APOCALYPSE: SHORT STORIES

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