by Justin Bell
Tamar stopped walking and turned to face him, grabbing his arms. “Luis, you and your parents gotta do what you think is right, okay? My mom’s here. My brother’s here. They’re not going anywhere. As long as my bro is around, I’m around, got it? I’m the only one he’s got looking out for him.”
“I get it, man.”
“I need to keep his life as normal as possible, okay? And right now that means his big brother goes to Tae Kwon-Do on Fridays after school.”
“Ain’t no school,” Luis replied. “School’s out, buddy.”
Tamar looked at Luis, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. “Do what you gotta do. Stay safe, okay? But if you need me, I’m here.”
Luis nodded and extended a hand, which Tamar clamped in his own. They embraced briefly and Luis turned away, running down a narrow street.
That was the last time Tamar saw him. That was the last time anything in Tamar’s life approached anything close to normal. More gunfire echoed, this time from even closer, and Tamar broke into a run, charging down the street, then turning left, heading toward the cul-de-sac where his apartment building sat. Even as he approached the street ahead to the left, he could smell the smoke, a thick, choking smell, like fingers reaching down into his throat and squeezing. His eyes and nostrils stung with a pungent stab of burnt brick and fuel. Was the whole city burning?
He ran down the side street, then turned onto his road and stopped, his eyes peeling wide, his heart ramrodding in his narrow chest. Wearing a blue Chicago Cubs jacket over the starched white Tae Kwon-Do uniform, Tamar stood there frozen, locked in place, watching nearly his entire block burn. Angry insects of fire crawled up the walls of nearly every building on this side of the street, long tendrils extending toward the roof, dull gray smoke billowing from the tips of yellow fingers. Nearly every building was consumed by it.
“Jerome!” Tamar screamed, as loud as he could, his brother’s name bursting from pursed lips. “I’m comin’ for you, Jerome!” He leaped forward into a sprint, running down the road toward his building, which was almost completely concealed behind a flaring and rippling curtain of flame. He drew closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating from the building, the scalding air hitting him in the face like a bucket of hot water, but he kept running, kept charging forward, his foot hitting the first step leading up to his apartment.
He didn’t even see the approaching man, he just felt the weight of him strike his right side, carrying him off his feet and up onto a broad shoulder, toting him off like a bag of dog food.
“Don’t do it!” a voice shouted as the running man carried him from the building, from where he would have almost certainly burned to death. Tamar squirmed and eventually lowered to the ground, the man who saved his life keeping his arms wrapped tightly around him, holding him back, staying him from charging back toward the building.
“It’s too late,” the man said. “They’re all gone. We need to be, too!”
Tamar glared at the building through a hazy curtain of tears, reaching toward the rising flames, knowing in his heart that the man was right, there was no saving Jerome, not now and not ever. The world he had so desperately been trying to keep normal was broken and burnt, reduced to a thick, smoldering ash.
Lonzo held him tight right there in the street, held him back, and saved his life.
***
Even as Tamar opened his eyes, for the briefest moment he saw the ghost of the fire right there in the van, a quick after-image of scalding hot flame, fingers grabbing at the brickwork and burning everything inside.
“Hey, you okay?” Winnie asked, looking over at him.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” he replied. “Why?”
“You were rolling around. Tossing, turning, and talking, but I couldn’t hear what you were saying. Didn’t sound like nice dreams.”
He shook his head. “Just memories. That’s all. Ghosts.”
“Too many ghosts these days,” Winnie said, glancing back through the windshield.
“Ain’t that the truth.”
As they continued along Interstate 90, Tamar looked out the windshield at the rows of cars bracketing each lane. There was just enough space between them for the van to fit, and it proceeded down the long, narrow path eastward, its single headlight still shining the way. They rode in silence for a time.
“How’s your pops?” Tamar asked, leaning forward to look past Winnie. Phil was laying on his part of the seat, head resting back, left eye closed, the whole right side of his head and face wrapped in a flannel shirt.
Winnie followed Tamar’s gaze and gently squeezed her father’s arm. “He’s all right, I think. Sleeping.” She looked back over at him. “So what ghosts were you seeing?”
He shrugged. “My buddy Luis. Grew up together on the block, went to school together, Tae Kwon-Do class. The whole nine. When everything went sideways, and I got wrapped up in the Orphans, I always kept an eye out for him, hoped that we’d run across him. Never did.”
Winnie nodded. “I had a friend like that. Her name was Deb. She was a year older than me, she had a job at the mall. She was always trying to hook me up with this kid she worked with. I have no clue where she is now.”
“Funny how that happens. People we think are the most important to us, yet something like this happens and they just kind of fade away.” Tamar looked out the window into the dark night. Metal glistened on the cars they passed, but nothing else was visible along their route.
“Where are we?” he asked. “How long was I out?”
“Couple hours. We’re almost to the Ohio border.”
“Dang, really? So we’re close?”
“Still a little ways to go. Cleveland’s on the other side of the state, and we’re getting close to Detroit.”
“What’s up with Detroit?”
“According to Mom, they ran into a guy at our last stop that claims Cleveland Clinic is under the supervision and protection of some army guys. They’ve taken over Detroit, Columbus and Pittsburgh, kind of penned Cleveland between them.”
“Why?”
Winnie shrugged. “I don’t know, but if it’s true, we may not make it to the clinic without running into them.”
“They friendly?”
“The guy back there didn’t think so.”
“Wonderful.”
“Another day in the life of nuclear Armageddon.”
“You two doing all right?” Rhonda looked back in the rearview mirror from the driver’s seat and nodded at Winnie and Tamar.
“Yeah, Mom,” Winnie replied. “We’re good.”
“How’s your brother?”
The teenage girl looked back over her shoulder and saw Max leaned over in his seat, head resting on the window. Brad was reclining straight back, his chin down on his chest. Angel sat on the far end, looking down at Rebecca who still lay on the floor of the van, stretched out between the seats and the side door.
“I think everyone’s all right,” Winnie reported. “Mostly sleeping.”
“You should sleep too, sweetie,” Rhonda said.
“Not feeling very tired,” Winnie replied.
“You’re full of it.”
Winnie smirked, glancing out the window, watching the night continue its steady progression past them along the side of the road. In the front seat Rhonda reached over and touched a hand to Greer’s forehead. It was hot to the touch, and her palm came away moist and clammy.
“He doesn’t look good, Mom,” Winnie said quietly.
“I know, Win.”
The van chugged along, but the engine was fluttering and moving slowly. Rhonda reached over and popped the glove compartment, pulling out a folded map. She let off on the gas and unfolded the map in front of her, finding their location along the meandering route of Interstate 90.
“Angel, you awake back there?” Rhonda asked, looking again in the rearview mirror.
Angel jostled, and he opened his eyes, pulling up into a seated position. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, I’m u
p.”
“We’re about two hours outside of Toledo, coming up on Route 20. I think we need to get off here and see if we can find any food along with some fuel for the van.”
Angel cleared his throat, nodding. “Yeah, makes sense. Let’s do it.”
“If it looks clear enough, we could even consider taking 20 all the way toward Toledo, then pick up 75 or 90 again. Just to make up for lost time.”
“Speaking of lost time, how’s our man Clancy?” Angel asked.
Rhonda shook her head. “He doesn’t sound good. Raspy breath. He feels really hot. Quicker we can get to Cleveland Clinic, the better.”
Angel nodded.
“Can you see Phil back there?” Rhonda asked as she gently eased the van right, coming close to the throng of vehicles along that side of the road.
“Looks like he’s asleep,” Angel said. “But he’s breathing. He’s good.”
Rhonda nodded. “How is Rebecca holding up?”
Angel looked down at the prone form of former FBI Agent Fields. Her eyes and mouth were closed, looking as if she was asleep. The shirt wrapped around her shoulder and clavicle was dark and damp, but it seemed to be doing its job, keeping too much blood from leaking out.
“I think she’s okay,” Angel replied. “She’s sleeping at the moment.”
“All right,” Rhonda said. “Hold tight, okay?” She eyed a turn-off heading toward Route 20 and guided the van that way, brushing against one of the cars to their right. Twisting the wheel hard, she pushed aside a second car and wormed their way onto the off ramp, rolling down the single lane exit until they came out upon Route 20. It was a quiet stretch of road, unpopulated compared to Interstate 90 with a few scattered vehicles and several smaller houses stretching out along the dark two-lane road.
“Kinda spooky out here,” Winnie whispered.
“Less people the better, you ask me,” Rhonda said. “I’m going to stop a few miles up here and see what we can find. Try and get a little sleep, kid, okay?”
Winnie laid her head back on the headrest, but she suspected sleep wasn’t going to come tonight, no matter how exhausted she might be.
***
Out along Route 20 the sky was dark, but being so far from the cities meant the moon and stars could be seen in all their glory, casting their pale glow down on the streets below. Rhonda spotted three cars parked along the side of the road and veered the van over next to them, coasting it to a stop.
“Up and at ‘em,” she said. “We need gas and food.”
Phil stirred slightly, rubbing his head over the bunched up shirt tied over it. Rebecca mumbled slightly, but didn’t move from her place on the floor.
“Max and Brad, your turn for gas duty,” Rhonda said, opening the driver’s side door.
“Oh c’mon, Mom,” Max complained. “That’s nasty.”
“We all take our turns. We’ve still got some hose in the back seat and we’ve got three cars out here. You guys know what to do by now.”
“I can help,” Phil said, starting to pick himself up from his seat.
“Sit down, Phillip,” Rhonda said as she slid out onto the pavement. “We’re fine, just rest your head, okay?”
“I’m okay, Rhonda.”
“You’re not okay, and if you don’t chill out, I’ll make you even less okay.”
Phil rolled his eyes and looked away, but remained seated where he was.
Angel pushed past him, stepping carefully over the body of Rebecca and sliding open the door on the passenger’s side. Hopping out of the van, he stretched his arms over his head and groaned slightly, Winnie and Tamar following just behind him.
Brad and Max seemed less excited about venturing out, but they squeezed through the rows of seats and went out onto the street outside as well, veering around toward the rear of the vehicle to retrieve the hose.
Angel opened the passenger’s door and looked at Greer who remained propped on the seat, which was slightly reclined. His eyes were open and shifted to look at Angel.
“How we doin’, Sheriff?” he asked.
“Stylin’ and profilin’,” Greer replied with a thin smile.
Angel patted him on the shoulder, then pressed a hand to his forehead. “Feeling a touch hot, bud. You sure you’re doing okay?”
“Yeah, feels a little warm out here, but I’ll be good. I feel like I can breathe easier now that we’re farther from the city. A lot less stale exhaust and other smoke from the fires out here.”
“Good man,” Angel replied. He walked away from Greer, easing the door closed and rounded the front of the van to approach Rhonda. “Why don’t you let me take Winnie and Tamar to see if we can find some chow?”
Rhonda looked around. “I see a lot of houses, not many stores,” she replied. “Maybe we should wait?”
Angel drew closer. “We need to find some cool water or something pronto. Clancy is feelin’ pretty hot over there. I don’t know if we can wait to move a few miles down the road to look for a store.”
Rhonda looked over at Greer and lowered her chin, seeming to take the whole thing into consideration.
“We don’t know any of these people, Angel. They could all be armed.”
Angel shrugged. “We will be, too. Just wanna knock on a few doors. See if we can get a lead on anything. From what we’ve seen so far, I think most people have left town.”
Rhonda found it difficult to argue with that perspective. They hadn’t seen a single human body since they’d transitioned from 90 to Route 20, which suited her just fine. She feared running into other people more than she feared another nuclear detonation at this point.
“Okay. Be quick, though, please?”
Angel nodded, then turned, calling out to Winnie and Tamar. “Hey, you two,” he said, jerking his head in their direction. “Make sure you got your pieces and your flashlights, then come with me. We’re goin’ chow huntin’.”
Tamar looked at Winnie, smirking, then the two of them headed Angel’s direction.
“We’re strapped, boss, no worries,” Tamar said. Both he and Winnie fished small, metal flashlights from their belts.
“Be back,” Angel said to Rhonda as he led the two of them off along the side of the road, looking toward the houses lining the darkened street.
“Be careful!” Rhonda shouted at them as they continued forward.
“There any stores out here?” Winnie asked, looking around.
“No clue,” Angel replied, “but there are plenty of houses, and everyone seems to have left town. They’re all dark.” He played the beam of his light across the sidewalk next to the road, and up across some overgrown lawns. They could see a medium-sized white house in the near distance on the right-hand side of the road, set back a short distance, a paved driveway leading up toward the structure. A wide garage was perched on the side closest to them as they approached, and Winnie turned to look over her shoulder, noting that the van was already out of sight. Although they’d only been walking for a few minutes, it felt like they were stranded out in the deep darkness, a feeling of isolation that made her uneasy.
“How far out are we going?” Winnie asked.
“First house on the right up here,” Angel said, pointing ahead. “Lights are out, no cars in the driveway, pretty big house. I’m betting they have a cupboard full.”
“So we’re stealing food from people now?” Tamar asked.
Angel stopped walking and turned to look at him. “Hey, I’m not happy about this either,” he said. “But we need to do what’s necessary to survive, right? At the least we need to get Clancy some water or something, he is burning up and if he’s going to even make it to Cleveland, we need to cool him down.”
“I get it,” Tamar replied. “Really, I get it. The Orphans did some stuff I wasn’t real comfortable with either, I just… I want to be on the right side of this, you know?”
Angel nodded. “I know, kid. We all do. But the world is a different place now, right? Adapt or die.”
Tamar nodded as A
ngel broke away and resumed his path toward the two-story white house in the near distance. They crossed the tall grass still moist with recent rain, then walked over the narrow paved driveway leading to a garage. Wet foot prints trailed them across the pavement as they made their way to the front door, taking a short step up the paved stoop. Everything was disturbingly quiet along this isolated section of Route 20, a complete void of sound with no traffic, no voices, not even the muffled din of televisions from within the structure. All the lights inside were off, creating a strange sensation of darkness and silence, the only indication of the world around them, the three beams of light coming from their small flashlights.
Shining their lights across Route 20, they saw wide stretches of empty grass bracketed by wooden fencing which seemed to go on forever in each direction.
“Farm lands?” Winnie asked.
Angel shrugged. “You’d have to tell me. Never seen ‘em myself.”
“Me either,” confirmed Tamar.
Winnie shook her head. “City boys. Yeesh.” She moved past Angel and checked the door handle of the house, finding it unlocked. “That’s convenient,” she said and swung the storm door open. The inside door was also unlocked and a few moments later they were in the dark living room. Almost immediately upon entering the smell hit them, a thick and pungently rank stench and Tamar halted halfway into the living room, putting a hand over his nose and mouth.
“Aw, man,” he groaned. “Something’s rotten in here.”
Winnie put her nose and mouth in the crook of her arm and coughed.
“Looks like kitchen’s that way,” Angel said, pointing toward the left side of the house. “Tamar, there was a shed out back, can you check and see if they have any wheelbarrows or anything?”
“On it,” Tamar replied, nodding and heading to the back of the house to look for a back door. Standing alone in the living room, Angel looked at the set of carpeted stairs leading to a second floor, his eyes stinging with the rotten smell. At the back of his mind, he thought he knew what the source of the smell was, and for that reason, he’d decided to make the kids busy so he could do some investigation himself. As he walked toward the stairs, he scanned the first floor, the neatly kept living room, a couch stretched along the middle of the floor, looking upon a squat entertainment center with flat screen television balanced in the center. Several family photos hung on the walls and a bookshelf was pushed up against the wall at the front of the house. Two older people sat in each photo, accompanied by a teenager; a nice, homegrown family.
