by Logan Keys
Rufus pulled out a harmonica. He tested it a few blows and then started playing a song that Colton couldn’t name but was sure he’d heard a million times.
He smiled at Rufus who lifted the musical piece in question.
Colton nodded, eager for the distraction.
Rufus continued to play, and Colton leaned back to lay on his arms, close to the fire. He closed his eyes and let the music move through him, lull him, push away the dread and fatigue.
Rufus was darn good, too. Professional level if Colton had any guess.
When he was done with a few songs, Colton asked him. “Were you in a band or anything?”
Rufus chuckled. “Nah. I played with my dad when I was a kid and then I had this in my pocket throughout the years. I played for my kids, and then grandkids—they loved it. I played for my late wife until she passed away. Now, I just play when the mood suits, and we seemed to need it now.”
“It was amazing. Thank you. For everything. I feel like I’m sure I’d be lost without your help. I’m not sure what I did to deserve it, but I owe you, Rufus.”
**
The morning dawned quietly. Even though the world was ripped up and things were quickly devolving into madness, the birds chirping and the sun rising made Colton feel like there had to be some good left in this place.
He held on to that thought as they returned to the burned-out wreckage. He clung to that idea as they buried the one woman they’d found, before searching for more. He watched hope flit away from him as they found the first small body. Then he cried with anguish when they found another.
There was another one that was obviously a man, but he was much shorter than Bart.
“This isn’t my brother. And I don’t think that boy is big enough to be Benton. I am not sure…” But still he felt the tears fall and he let them. They might be strangers, but maybe someone should cry anyway as they were laid to rest. “Let’s bury them. Someone should.”
Rufus agreed and they worked all day long, until the sun went down, and they found no one else to bury.
They returned to the nearby farmhouse and slept for the night, only, there wasn’t much sleeping. Rufus played a sad song on his harmonica and Colton turned away onto his side and prayed for his brother and the kids and Brittany, and then he wept once more. It may have been silly or sentimental, especially because he was almost certain those bodies had not been his friends and brother, but he had a lot of fear and sadness that had been ready to come out all along. For them, for his family in Texas, for Brittany.
She was on his mind so often that he realized she had to mean more to him than a friend. He lied to himself and said he thought of her like a sister now after all they’d been through. He dried his eyes and forced them closed, though he couldn’t rest…not until he found them all.
Chapter Four
Somewhere South of Chicago
They’d stayed and searched as long as they could, but in the end, Brittany had let Chuck and Paige lead her away from the wreckage and the fires and with every step she lost the children and Colton and Bart all over again. She’d stared out of the window in Chuck’s truck until they made their first stop where she went through the motions of using a restroom as people stood in line, some of them burned from the fires in Chicago.
Everywhere she looked…reminders…reminders of what all had been lost.
Humanity was not quite on its last leg, but it was hobbled. Children cried about how cold they were. Parents shared worried glances. Some asked Chuck and Paige for rides, places to stay, and food.
She barely realized how cold it had turned. Brittany hardly noticed the palpable panic as people huddled together. The fires in Chicago had kept most everyone warm enough…sadly, but now they were moving south, the same as Chuck and his gang, to get away from the ever-falling snow. She could only hope that the kids and Bart and Colton were moving south too. She could only hope that it hadn’t been their bodies they’d found.
But they were hours away from the farmhouse now. Where were they? She had no clue. Did she care? Not at all. Brittany sat on the curb and thought the painful cold was at least a reminder that she could still feel. The chill bit harshly at her nose and eyes, and she pulled her scarf up and breathed hot breath into it to heat her cheeks. Maybe she should let Chuck and Paige and the group go on without her. What if…?
Brittany slammed a door on that thought. There was no “what iffing” herself out of this. Because wouldn’t she spend forever wondering?
Maybe she should disappear from the group and hope they didn’t notice. Chuck was far too nice in Brittany’s opinion, but then she felt bad because if he hadn’t been, well, where would she be?
And the crowd of people who’d stopped at the same rest stop were starting to notice that fact as well. Chuck had three RVs now in his group, and even more trucks furnished with campers. And he didn’t seem like he needed anything which was obvious to people in need. Right now, he was propped up against his truck with his hat tipped down, legs crossed. Could someone sleep standing up?
Brittany would bet he was listening and not missing a thing. Had she ever seen him rest? And yet he always looked so bright-eyed and positive. Paige was the opposite. She was tired, haggard almost, but Brittany could see it was because Paige never had a slow moment. Never had an “off” time. She was constantly looking out for the group, always spotting and stopping trouble, and she was quickly becoming Brittany’s hero in this time. She prodded Brittany towards the next step then the next. Relentlessly.
Chuck’s group was staying in their own area, but it was quickly being surrounded by people with every type of problem. The group was sharing food and supplies, but it was never enough. The crowd grew. People were injured, hungry, thirsty, freezing, and that made some of them careless while it made others more wary. The divide was clear.
It was even more clear as the army trucks appeared. Brittany watched as they pulled up in a row, taking their own “rest” as they drove onwards either to or from the city. Military personnel exited the trucks, weapons in hand. Brittany couldn’t help but look for Colton, even though she knew better.
She swallowed when one young soldier straightened his helmet and locked eyes with her. She wondered what she looked like to him. Her, covered in ash, eyes no doubt wide with a shock that she seemed perilously close to being in a constant state of. He tipped his head and looked away. He didn’t want to be there. He didn’t want to round up more of the rowdier citizens like the ones they had locked in the back of the truck. But it was his job and…maybe that still mattered to him…for the moment.
From Chuck’s group, George was one that Brittany had met and immediately disliked. His dark eyes had pinned her hard, and she could read the “another mouth to feed” irritation on his long, slender face. Now, he was at the front of the crowd. Brittany frowned and got to her feet. She moved closer to hear as he gathered some people around himself.
“Look at you all,” he shouted, and people quieted down to hear. “The government wants you at each other’s throats like this! They want you scared. That way they can come and enforce!” He motioned to the men and women in uniform who watched from the back. “What you should be doing is demanding answers. What you should be doing is giving them hell until they rectify the situation. They have had control of the weather for years! Their shields have caused all of this mayhem and you know it!”
Too few people in the crowd were ignoring George. Most of them were shouting angry agreements. Some even turned and pointed fingers in the faces of the soldiers.
“Who here has lost a loved one?” George demanded, and a tall man built like a brick house stepped forward.
“My entire family…gone in a fire,” he sobbed, and then he glanced at the soldier closest to them, the one from before who’d held Brittany’s gaze with his resigned one. “You better start talking!” the big man shouted moving toe-to-toe with the very young, now very nervous, private.
“Hey!” someone else shouted, trying
to stop the guy before he lifted a fist and smashed the soldier in the face.
It all happened so fast. All Brittany could do was gape at the sudden chaos. The soldiers lifted their weapons, but the crowd was pushing back before they could do much other than begin an outright brawl. Children stuck in the middle of the fight were screaming, and then a gun went off and everyone joined them in screaming, too.
Brittany was on the ground, her face pressed hard into the concrete as automatic gunfire rat-tat-tatted through those still standing.
“Stop!” a booming voice sounded from behind her, and the gunfire paused. “Stop!” Chuck bellowed again. “Enough. It’s over. No one is going to fight back anymore.”
There were people groaning who’d been struck, and still others screamed in fear or pain. Brittany expected the army to gun them all down, even on the ground at this point. She knew it was mostly out of fear, but also in the back of her mind, she knew it was because they could use their might now unbridled against the citizens. Who would stop them?
She dared to turn her head. Several soldiers had George on the ground, hands behind his head. They were arresting him. Good, she thought. He was the one who started it all.
**
“Hey, you okay?” Paige asked, and Brittany nodded.
“You?” Brittany replied, and Paige shrugged.
Physically, the woman was fine, but Brittany could tell she was upset.
Paige’s eyes raised and locked on Chuck who was making his way over. “Four dead. Fifteen injured. Two that are lucky if they see tomorrow,” he said quietly.
Brittany expected Paige to check on her brother, but instead the tall woman moved closer and put her finger in his face, hissing, “You shouldn’t let George go on like that. You should kick him out. This is his fault.”
Brittany expected a fight but instead Chuck sighed, removed his hat, and rubbed his head before replacing it again. “He isn’t wrong though, is he?”
“So, let him get people killed because he’s right?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Kick. Him. Out.”
When Chuck didn’t budge, Paige threw her hands up. “Fine. You take George and the group, and I’ll go my own way then. Better than listening to that moron prattle on. What? You believe the crap he’s spewing now?”
“I don’t have to agree with the solution to agree with the problem, Paige. He’s an idiot. That much is clear. But this is a free country…or was. Right? Him speaking out shouldn’t mean death for anyone.”
“That’s not…you saw…that’s not what happened.”
Chuck glanced at Brittany in apology, but she wasn’t sure whose side she was on. If he thought she agreed with him, he’d find himself wrong.
Chuck offered, “I saw him questioning things and that’s something that will happen whether George instigates it or not, Sis.”
“Don’t you ‘Sis’ me,” Paige spat. “No. Enough. I’m going to the truck. Let’s see if I come back.”
She stormed off and Brittany bit her lip then asked, “Is she really going to go?”
“Nah. All piss and vinegar with that one. She’ll cool off.”
“George did start the fight though.”
“Did he? I didn’t see that. I saw people starting a fight they might have already been willing to start with the authorities who may or may not be responsible for this mess.”
Brittany shuddered. “You all anarchists or something?”
Chuck gazed back at the military vehicles that were exiting the parking lot in a single file line. “Or something…” he muttered.
Chapter Five
Mexico
The sun seemed to rise on this part of the world with a lot more interest. It warmed up things faster than anywhere Luckman had been in a long time. He took a moment to quietly pack his things. He spared a glance at German who would have beaten him to rise most always, but who was, instead, slumped on his side, breathing shallowly, and who wasn’t going to be able to continue on with the rest of them.
Luckman understood his friend would want him to say goodbye. He understood that his friend would want to say something funny and send him off with jokes about Luckman maybe saving the world without him, but Luckman couldn’t bear to see the goodbye, let alone say it.
He stood slowly, rising only inches at a time. Everyone was still asleep, exhausted by the restlessness caused whenever the wind had found its way through the cave in an eerie call that sounded like somewhere deeper on, they’d found hell. And it was in Mexico all along.
Funny, Luckman thought, because he was sure they’d all thought about it in the night. Would it at least be warmer? That errant musing had moved through him a few times. If they ventured on, deeper into the cave, would they die warm at least?
Maybe that’s what German would do once they were gone.
Luckman shook loose of the darkness that threatened to grip him and took his first steps towards escape, towards the light.
Once outside, the wind settled, the sun slowly rising, and the snow, it was now spread thinner across the sand so that it almost…almost was a normal day in the desert. Cold, but not nearly as deadly as the pole had been.
Luckman didn’t think, he simply walked. He took ten steps in the direction of home and then another fifteen…fifty…and after one hundred he lost count and the concrete feeling he’d developed in his chest finally dissolved when he glanced back and couldn’t see the cave anymore.
Once he got to a flat part above the canyon, after climbing a steep side, he had to lift himself up over the final edge.
It was level up on top and he started to jog. Every step sounded like: Coward. But every step meant he might not actually be one if he could manage to…
“Lucky!”
The wind picked up slightly with the higher elevation and it almost sounded like German calling his name…but….it couldn’t be. He brushed away thoughts that it was actually German’s spirit after he’d perished chasing him to punish him for his leaving.
“Lucky!”
Luckman whirled around so fast that he lost his footing and slid to the edge of the canyon. That ledge caved in and with a shout, Luckman went down, fast, and freefell into the open air. This was it. He was done for. He clawed at nothing, stretching for the ridge just beyond reach.
Then felt the unexpected snag of his pack onto something, stopping him dead in his descent.
“Got you! I got you!”
Luckman glanced up. It was Holtz. He was leaning over a spot part way up the canyon’s side, and he held Luckman’s pack in his one hand and the ridge in the other.
Luckman swung back and forth and finally smashed into the wall sending shards of red rock in every direction. “Don’t…” Luckman pleaded with a man he had just threatened the night before. “Don’t let me go!”
“I won’t,” Holtz said and seemed to mean it.
Slowly he got Luckman onto the edge of the ridge, and Luckman grabbed hold and hoisted himself up again. Once he was above, he laid on his side and reached over and helped Holtz upwards until they both sat on the ledge.
“What are you doing here?” Luckman demanded.
“Following you.” Holtz held up a hand to stop Luckman’s argument. “I left a note. I knew what you’d do, and I planned it all last night. You are trying to make it to the border and return with help in time, am I right?”
Luckman swore. “But now they’re all alone!”
“And they will wait. They have the food. I left everything but my water.”
“But they’re alone!”
Holtz scoffed. “Come on. What century are you in? Equality remember. You think Jean and Terry can’t take care of themselves? They have German anyway.”
Luckman knew that they could take care of themselves. Not that German could help at this point. He was a burden, but they wouldn’t leave him though…He couldn’t deny that had been his fear. That the group would leave German alone anyway once he was gone. Luckman knew it could happe
n and so he hadn’t left any note, nothing because he wanted them to go if they felt inclined. He knew German didn’t want to hold them back. But as for Luckman, he was going to get help and he would die trying if need be.
“He needs a doctor,” Luckman said, and Holtz nodded.
“I’m going to help you get one.”
Luckman squinted at the man. He wanted to believe that, but he also got the sense that once they arrived at the border, Holtz would be gone. But Luckman was all right with that. He nodded to himself. “Fine. But I’m running the whole way.”
“When you aren’t falling down canyons, you mean?”
Holtz was fishing for a compliment, and it was owed. “Thank you, man. For saving me.” He didn’t add that he fell down thinking the ghost of German was chasing him across the desert. That if Holtz had not shouted he wouldn’t have fallen in the first place.
Holtz held out a hand. “You lead the way, and I’ll keep pace.”
Luckman stood, turned back towards the path he’d chosen, and started running.
**
It was supposed to be three days with German being sluggish and the group had gone maybe half a days’ worth in a full day. So, it was two and a half with German---maybe one and a half without running--- but at a healthy walk, and so Luckman thought maybe they could do it now in a day with them going fast.
They ran an hour tops, but that ended too soon. They both were winded and tired and had to walk, and that turned into a not very fast walk by afternoon.
“You said you left a note, “Luckman said holding his side. He was more banged up than he realized. Two plane crashes and a boat sinking would do that to a body. Plus, he wasn’t some young buck anymore.
