Survive (Day 1)

by A. R. Wise

  “Should we be scared?” asked June.

  “Not of this,” said Porter in reverence of the beauty on display.

  “I’ve never seen the northern lights,” said Red.

  “They haven’t been seen this far south since the last big coronal ejection hit us,” said Porter.

  “It’s getting brighter,” said June.

  The man at the stop light was frightened, and rolled up his window. He drove off, as if he might escape the event.

  “Look how bright it is,” said June as she held out her hand to show how the green light hit it.

  A pink hue began to grow from the north, rising like a new sun, sending waves of fresh light into the ribbons. They watched the evolving aurora, and ignored the traffic moving around their parked Jeep.

  “It’s beautiful,” said Porter.

  “The stop light went out,” said Red.

  Porter looked back at the stop light, and then at the telephone pole beside the Jeep. The transformer at the top of the pole was smoking.

  “We need to move the Jeep,” said Porter with sudden intensity. He didn’t wait for Red to ask why, and ran across the street, cutting off a driver who honked angrily. He waved an apology, and looked up at the transformer, hoping he had time. The cylindrical can atop the pole was buzzing, and then let loose a loud bang preceding a shower of sparks.

  Red yelled out, “Don’t!”

  Porter knew this was foolish, but he couldn’t risk losing their supplies. Sparks fell down on top of the Jeep, and danced on the gas cans on the roof. Porter got in as a shower of sparks fell onto the windshield.

  To his dismay, Red had the keys. Before he could yell at his brother to throw him the keys, he saw that Red was on his way over. “Here, here,” said Red as he held out the keys.

  Porter took them, and then yelled, “Get away.”

  Red ignored the command, and instead stood on the footrest outside of the driver’s side door. He jumped up higher so that his feet were perched on the window sill as he pressed his hand over the sparks on the gas cans to put them out.

  “It’s on fire, hurry,” said June as she watched from the side of the road, the northern lights turning her into a silhouette at the edge of the cliff.

  Porter drove several yards forward. Before he stopped, he saw blazing chunks of the transformer fall from the pole behind him. They crashed down to the pavement, right where the Jeep had been parked.

  Red cheered as he put out the last of the remaining sparks on the roof, and then he hopped down, landing with a heavy thud on the pavement. He had a wide, excited smile as he looked at his brother.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” asked Porter as he got out of the Jeep and slammed the door.

  “Me?” asked Red, startled by his brother’s anger.

  “Those gas cans could’ve exploded,” said Porter. “What were you thinking hopping up there like that? What was going through your head?”

  “Fuck you.”

  Porter pushed Red hard, causing his brother to stumble backwards and nearly fall onto the road.

  “Hey, what the hell.” June ran toward them.

  “You’re going to get yourself killed doing shit like that,” said Porter.

  “I might’ve just saved your life, asshole,” said Red. “Not to mention all of our supplies. Why’s it okay for you to jump in the Jeep and try to drive it away, but it’s not okay for me to try and stop it from catching fire?”

  “Because…” Porter’s anger falter. “Because I can die, you can’t.” It might’ve been the single most honest statement he’d ever said to his brother, even though at the time it didn’t seem to make much sense.

  “What the hell does that even mean?”

  “If something happens to me it’s not…” Porter knew there was no good explanation, but he was too stubborn to admit it. “Just, don’t be a fucking idiot. Don’t go and… Don’t do that sort of shit anymore. You need to be more careful than that.”

  “Are the two of you going to be at each other’s throats like this the whole trip?” asked June.

  “If he doesn’t stop being such a dick, then yeah,” said Red.

  “Here, let me help,” said June with acerbic sarcasm as she forced her way between them. She turned to her boyfriend and said, “Red, your brother loves you, and he’s afraid you’ll get hurt, but he sucks at saying it.” She turned to face his brother. “Porter, Red loves you and he was trying to save your fucking life. Get it? Can we stop fighting like two baby boys and act like adults, please? Because the whole world’s pretty much on fire right now.” She held her hand out behind her, showcasing the brightening display. “And we ain’t got time for this shit.”

  Porter and Red surprised her by responding with silence, and then sheepish laughter.

  “Oh, this is funny now?” asked June. “This is a joke to you guys?”

  “You know who she sounds like?” asked Red.

  Porter answered, “Mom.”

  “Exactly,” said Red.

  “Your mom?” asked June. “I don’t have time to get into mommy issues with you two. Are we leaving, or are you going to spend the apocalypse bitching at each other?”

  They began to walk towards the Jeep. As they went, Red said, “Just a warning, June, we’re probably going to fight a lot on this trip.”

  “It’s what we do,” said Porter.

  Day One – 11:12pm

  Porter guided them through a series of twisting, abandoned roads that dipped in and out of the foothills leading south. He’d spent a good part of the morning planning this trip, and had figured out a route that would keep them away from most heavily populated areas. Occasionally they had to drive through private land, and open gates that were meant to bar intruders. Porter knew there were a few areas where they would have to four wheel it through a field, but he felt confident the Jeep could handle it.

  A couple times they had to carve their way through traffic, but never flowed with it. Instead, they’d come upon a packed highway, and then drive along the side of it until they found a place to cross.

  The highways were loaded with people standing beside stopped cars, staring up at the aurora that blazed like a green sun, washing the land in eerie light. Shadows wavered, compelled by the ribbons undulating above.

  “Should I be worried about that?” asked Red as he pointed at the digital clock in the dash. It was flickering, and then faded out.

  “I don’t know,” said Porter. “Be happy the Jeep’s still running. Some preppers I know said that a strong CME would shut down most modern cars because of how much their systems rely on electronics. At least we’re still moving.”

  “For now,” said Red.

  “Can we check our phones yet?” asked June.

  “Not yet,” said Porter as he glanced at the ammo box at his feet. “Better to be safe than sorry. We’ll check them in the morning.”

  They neared a county road that would lead to I-25.

  “This might get tricky,” said Porter as he examined the map.

  “Which way should I go?” asked Red as he came to a stop. To their left, towards the highway, there were bright red and blue lights flashing. To the right, there was nothing visible.

  “There’s no traffic at all,” said June. “That’s weird.”

  “They must’ve shut the road down,” said Porter.

  “Left or right?” asked Red.

  “Go straight.”

  “Straight? There’s nothing there. It’s a field,” said Red.

  “And if we can get across the field, we’ll get to Yarborough Road,” said Porter as he pointed at his map.

  “There’s a fence,” said June.

  “It’s just wire,” said Porter. “I’ve got bolt cutters on the roof. We can snip the wire, and drive through the field. No big deal.”

  “Are you sure about this?” asked Red.

  “I’m sure if we go that way,” he pointed left, “we’ll be headed into a wall of traffic. And if we head that way,” he
pointed right, “we’ll be headed up into the mountains and have to drive around there for a few hours to make it back to where we need to be.”

  “All right,” said Red. “You’re the boss.” He drove across the road and parked to allow his brother to get out and cut the wire.

  Porter moved quick, worried that the police would be patrolling the area. The bolt cutters were in a box on the first layer of things on top of the Jeep. He’d purposefully put the box on its side so that the tools were accessible, even with the gas cans on top. He got the bolt cutters out and hurried to the fence. Less than a minute later, the wire was cut and he was waving his brother through the gap.

  There was a small ditch preceding the fence, but it wasn’t deep enough to impede the Jeep. Red stopped, and Porter put the bolt cutters back before getting in.

  “There, see,” said Porter. “No big deal.”

  “I’m just going to throw my two cents out there,” said June. “This seems like a bad idea.”

  The Jeep bounced on the uneven terrain as Red drove slowly through the field. “The Law family’s survived on bad ideas for a long time. Isn’t that right, Porter?”

  “Yep.”

  “Porter,” said June, contemplating the name. “You know, I never thought about it before, but are you named after a type of beer?”

  “We both are,” said Porter.

  “You are?”

  “Yeah, it was our dad’s idea. Red was supposed to be called Stout, but Mom hated that name. She fought with Dad until they settled on Red.”

  “No kidding?” asked June. “I never knew that.”

  “I bet there’s a lot you don’t know about Red,” said Porter. “You’ve only been dating him for a couple of weeks. He’s practically a stranger to you.” He meant it as a joke, but it wasn’t appreciated.

  After an awkward silence, June said, “I’ve never heard you talk about your dad. What’s he like?”

  “You don’t want to know,” said Red.

  “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.”

  “He’s an asshole,” said Porter. “We moved here to get away from him. I haven’t talked to him much since Mom died, and I don’t think Red has either.”

  “Not once,” said Red.

  They passed over a large bump in the field, causing the gear in the back to rattle.

  “Slow down,” said Porter. “You’re going to knock stuff loose up there. All we need is for gas to start leaking out.”

  “I am going slow,” said Red, irritated.

  June wanted to further explore their previous conversation. “Do you mind if I ask what your dad did that made you guys hate him so much?”

  “We’d have to write you a list,” said Red.

  “He was abusive,” said Porter. “To everyone.”

  “And not just physically,” said Red. “He’s sick. You know me, June, I’m a pretty happy guy. Right? I’m easy going.”

  “Right,” said June.

  “I don’t make many enemies, but that man,” Red held up his finger and took a breath. “That man’s top of the list. Enemigo numero uno.”

  “Sorry to hear that,” said June, a bit shocked by Red’s strong reaction.

  “There’s a road up there,” said Porter, changing the subject. “See. What’d I tell you. That road will take us a good way south.”

  They reached the end of the field, and Porter had to get out to cut the fence again. He had a feeling this would end up being routine for them before the end of the trip. The ditch preceding the road was deeper on this side of the field, and he had to instruct Red to drive down some ways before he found a spot where the ditch was shallow. He cut the fence, and then waved Red through. The Jeep dipped down far into the ditch, and nearly got stuck, but Red was able to gun it back up the other side and onto the road. Porter put away the bolt cutter, and then got back in, a wide smile on his face.

  “We’re doing good. I think we might just make it through this trip alive after all.”

  “Knock on wood,” said June as she reached up to the seat in front of her and knocked on the side of Red’s head.

  They started to drive down the isolated, lonely road. The pavement was cracked and in dire need of repair, but it was smoother than driving through the field. Red raced along, faster than he should, like usual.

  They didn’t get far before seeing red lights ahead.

  “Looks like a couple of stopped cars,” said Red.

  “And a flare,” added June.

  “Maybe an accident,” said Porter.

  Red slowed down as they neared the scene. It looked like a collision between a sedan and a pick-up truck. The truck’s rear end faced them, its hazards blinking. The sedan was partially in the ditch, its side smashed and its windshield shattered. Smoke rose from under the sedan’s hood. The front end was buried in tall, dry weeds in the ditch.

  “They need to turn that car off before it starts the grass on fire,” said Porter.

  A woman saw them approaching, and stood in the road waving her arms frantically in the air. Red rolled down his window, and inched as far to the right as he could without going into the deep ditch.

  “Help us,” said the frantic woman. She looked to be in her mid-forties, skinny and with long, stringy black hair. Her shirt was bloody, and her jeans torn. “Help us, please. My husband’s hurt. He’s hurt real bad.”

  Porter saw a figure in the driver’s seat of the truck, his head leaned back against the window. He saw the man’s watery eyes looking through the rearview, watching them.

  Red pulled up to the woman, and undid his seat belt. He reached for the door handle, ready to go help the strangers if he could.

  Porter looked at the woman in the road as she neared the side of the Jeep. Her eyes were scarlet, and her cheeks stained with dirt and blood that’d been cleaned in lines by tears. She reached behind her back.

  “Help us.”

  Day One – 11:39pm

  “Red, wait,” said Porter as he grabbed his brother’s hoodie and pulled him back before he could open the door.

  “What the…” Red was startled.

  “Help us!” The bloodied, crying woman reached for the window with her left hand, and then stepped up onto the footrest. Her face peered in through the open window.

  “Get off the Jeep,” said Porter as he reached for the pistol at his side.

  She saw his aggression, and her sorrowful countenance morphed into hateful rage. She lunged at Red with a bloody knife. Porter still had a grip on his brother’s hoodie, and pulled him hard. The knife stabbed deep into Red’s headrest.

  June screamed out, “Drive!”

  Red hit the accelerator, but couldn’t take the wheel. He used one hand to hold onto the attacker’s wrist, and the other to push at her neck. She was screaming at him, and snapping her teeth at his wrist. The Jeep veered to the right, and they started to dip into the ditch, headed towards the wrecked sedan. Porter took the wheel, and tried to get them back on the road, but he overcompensated the turn. The Jeep hopped back up onto the pavement nearly sideways, and he had to take a hard right. Red couldn’t see where they were going, but kept his foot on the gas. The Jeep barely missed hitting the side of the truck in the road.

  The driver of the truck was still alive, and was a participant in this trap. When the Jeep passed, he gunned his engine. His tires squealed as he gave chase.

  Porter held the Jeep’s steering wheel with his left hand, and drew the pistol at his side with his right.

  “Get off me,” said Red before delivering a vicious strike to the woman’s throat. He shoved her out of the window. She lost her footing, and fell. Her body bounced on the uneven pavement.

  Porter looked through the side mirror in time to see the woman roll, and then start to get back up before the truck plowed into her. The man chasing them had no concern for the woman, and continued to follow. Her body pinwheeled in the air before hitting the road and then rolling to a stop. The gory scene was lit by the fluttering green of
the northern lights.

  “Go faster,” said June.

  “He’s catching up,” said Porter. “Fuck this.” He rolled down his window, and undid his seat belt.

  “What’re you doing?” asked Red.

  “Just drive straight.” Porter climbed onto the sill, and tried to aim the pistol behind them, but it was an awkward position. The luggage on top of the Jeep prevented him from seeing the driver of the truck. All he could aim for were the tires.

  The truck was coming up fast, its engine easily outdoing Red’s Jeep. Porter took careful aim, hoping to pop the man’s tires. He took a shot. June screamed, and then reached down to the bag at her feet in search of a gun. The Jeep hit a nasty bump, causing Porter to hop on his precarious seat on the sill. His heart pounded, and adrenaline blazed through his veins. He tried to aim again, but it was too late. The truck slammed into the back end of the Jeep.

  The force of the impact drove them off the road, and back towards the ditch. Porter squirmed to get inside as Red tried to turn left, but the truck was pushing them too hard, trying to force them to crash.

  “Get in, get in,” said Red desperately as it became clear they were about to go off the road and into the ditch.

  The Jeep slanted as it dipped into the ditch. Porter fought gravity as he pulled himself back in. He made it inside just before the Jeep fell onto its right side. Glass shattered, and the side mirror broke off as dirt, leaves, and stones spewed up from the ground into Porter’s face. The airbags deployed, hissing and calamitous. Porter’s head was shoved back against his seat, dazing him as the Jeep came to a sudden, forceful halt.

  Liquid pooled. He could hear the steady ‘glug’ of gasoline leaking from a broken can. The stench stung his nose.

  “June,” said Red. “Are you okay?”