by J. D. Palmer
I look out the window at a sudden movement, hand reaching for my gun, then relax. A cat is hunting in the bushes, stalking something too small to see. I do not think the cat is evil but I still pity the mouse, or rat, or bug.
But life goes on.
I wake up to a small hand on my shoulder. Beryl is looking at me, worried. Fuck I dozed off. I jolt upright thinking something must be wrong and she waves her hands and shakes her head. She signals to the chair and points at me and to the stairs and I need no further urging. I totter down the steps and grab a pillow from the couch and curl up on the carpet. I am asleep immediately.
I am home. Finally. It is fall. I walk up the driveway and my mother opens the door to greet me. Her face changes to horror and I look down. My hands are stained red, my shirt and pants coated in blood. I look up and her horror has turned to anger. She starts to shut the door. I rush forward but she holds up a hand and speaks to me but the dream world warps and shifts and I find myself sitting inside my friend’s house. I’m playing on my phone, a shooter game in which I find myself sweeping a house for enemies. I mow down one after the other as my friends call for help. “I’ll be right there, I’m almost done.” They groan and I yell again, then I feel a hand on my shoulder.
“Har.”
Steven leans over me. “Man you was dreaming about something.” I rub my eyes, still stuck in my dream. He smiles. “Was she pretty?” I smile and shake my head, content to pretend that it was an embarrassing sex dream instead of a horrible nightmare in which I let my friends down in yet another way.
We take the family’s car and drive through the night. There are CDs in a case but we don’t listen to them. Music would seem out of place right now, as if we were pretending at a life we don’t have anymore. Instead the windows are down and we soak up the night air, eyes scanning for debris or cars in the road.
Or people with guns.
We are approaching a town called Palmdale. I scanned the map for ways around it, but all end up taking us through it one way or another. So we will just have to get through it fast. I drive, John rides shotgun, Beryl and Steven in the back. We hit the edge of town and I have to slow down to go around a car wreck that blocks a side street. A couple dogs trot out into the road at the sound of the car, wagging their tails and looking at us hopefully. Someone’s been feeding them.
A lake shimmers in the morning light off to the east. I see a boat out in the middle but I can’t tell if it’s moving or not. I take an exit and start to weave around the eastern edge of town. If Don is looking for us I’m not going to make it easy for him by sticking to the freeway. We cruise through an intersection and I slow as I see a corpse. A man in lingerie and garish makeup is leaned up against the glass of a store. “LIAR” has been spray painted above him.
We weave through streets dark and silent and slip through Palmdale unscathed. Back on the interstate I hit the gas, anxious to put the town behind us. Steven begins to sketch something in the back seat. John tells a story about a judge’s daughter that makes us laugh.
Beryl leans over the seat and points. There are shapes scattered across the road. We slow down and I see that they are bodies. Cars are parked haphazardly in the ditches, two of them are police. “What happened here?”
Steven whistles. “What the fuck?”
We all sit in silence and take in the scene, trying to figure out what could have happened on this lonely stretch of desert highway. Eventually John shrugs. “We gotta move them.”
I nod. “I’ll do it.”
“No, my brother and I can do it. Seems like you always deal with the bodies.” He jumps out of the car and I am touched by his gesture. I look back at Beryl and she gives me a wide-eyed look that borders on comical. Progress.
The brothers wrap shirts around their faces and put on gloves before walking towards the bodies. A hawk soars overhead. I follow its path as it skims above the desert then veers up high, hovering as it scans for prey. Wait…
I hop out of the car and scan the corpses. Nothing. “There are no birds.”
I start to run after the men. “Stop. Hey!” The brothers turn to look at me. Behind them the bodies on the ground come to life, scrambling to their feet and rushing the brothers. One uses the butt of a rifle to strike Steven in the back of the head, another puts a pistol to John’s temple, his free hand snaking around John’s waist to disarm him.
Shots ring out. I turn to look at Beryl. She is okay. Air flows out from the tires of our car with a whoosh and a groan. Men drop to their knees and aim rifles while others rush forward towards us. Don’s voice drifts out from behind a line of men. “Put the gun down Harlan or else he dies.”
There is no way out. I look at Beryl. Her face is pale and drawn, panic rising in her eyes. She looks at me and I shake my head. “I’m sorry. We can’t fight this.” I put my gun down and I see betrayal in her eyes. The men take a step forward and I see her choice being made. I leap forward as she tries to use the gun on herself, wrenching it away from her head before it fires. We begin to struggle for the pistol, her body bent over my arm, and I hear her whisper “no” before something hits me and I know no more.
I wake up in the back of an SUV, my head resting on the glass of the window. It’s bright, so bright I can’t open my eyes. The car jolts into a pot hole and my head smacks on the window. Pain radiates along the base of my skull, hammers behind my eyes, a torrent so excruciating that I almost puke. This is nothing new.
Slowly my eyes adjust and I’m able to see that we are driving along a road facing hundreds upon hundreds of solar panels. My hands are bound with duct tape. There are two men in the front seat, one in the row next to me, and I can hear the breathing of one directly behind.
Beryl tried to kill herself…
I sit up and look around. Nameless men sit in front of me and behind, no sign of the brothers or Beryl. Is Beryl okay? Please, let her be okay.
“Is my friend…” Angry glares from the front seat. A voice behind me responds.
“Just the one friend? I thought you had three.”
“Are they okay?”
The man laughs. “Doing better than you.”
I shut my mouth and lean over my knees, mouthing a silent prayer of thanks. I hope Beryl can forgive me. God, what was I thinking? Guilt courses through me. After all we had been through together we had finally been free. Free from rape and torture. And I know I wouldn’t allow myself to return to that if I was Beryl. But I had taken that decision away from her. God, what have I done? What have I doomed her to? Was I wrong to stop her? Please don’t let me be wrong.
The SUV begins to slow and I look outside, trying to see past the glare of the solar panels. Windmills loom in the distance, slowly turning, sentries dotting a land devoid of life. We turn down a short road that opens up into a mass of houses so closely spaced together that it has the appearance of one large, distorted hotel. We drive to the end, take a right and come to a stop next to a park. A green park, lush and verdant. A squat irrigation station sits in the middle. Greenhouses are set up in orderly rows. I see two men walking among them, one carrying a tub full of tomatoes.
All the men except for the driver get out, one yanks me out of the car and they drag me across the park towards a condo that looms larger than the rest. We walk inside and a blast of cool air greets me. Air conditioning? I stand stunned. Down the hall I see a light is on. Energy hums through the building and I am overcome with emotion. How is this possible? Hope blossoms. Was I wrong? Does civilization carry on?
A rifle butt prods me in the back. “Come on now.”
I am lead down an office hallway, bright paintings of stripes overlaid by more stripes overlaid by more stripes of heavy paint adorn the walls. A man’s hand grips my arm and propels me at a fast walk towards a series of steps. We go up, winding our way to the third floor. Down a pristine hallway, each door we pass marked with a number. We finally stop at number twelve. Once the door opens I hear music. Not someone playing music, but that of an old CD. It�
��s strange to me how profound of a difference there is now.
The men lead me down the hall and knock on a nondescript door. A muffled “come in” and I am pushed into the room. A lean, angular man sits behind a desk. He looks harried, stressed, large bags beneath shadowed eyes. A man who always needs twenty-five hours. But you only see it in his eyes. Everything around the office reflects an organized and precise personality. He wears a nice plaid shirt and nice pants. He is clean-shaven. He looks up as we enter and a smile crosses his face. He walks around, hand already out to shake mine when he notices my duct-taped wrists.
“What is this? Is he a threat?” He looks from one of my captors to the next, not aggressively, just seeking an answer.
“He didn’t seem like he wanted to come.”
I think we all wince at the words. The man grimaces. “People rarely enjoy having guns pointed at them. Cut him out.”
The man feels embarrassed but stands his ground. “He had a gun too. Had an attitude. Don said he threatened him.”
“Give me a knife.” The words of a leader. The man passes a knife and the stranger cuts me out himself. “I’m sorry you had to go through this. I am afraid this is my fault. I exhort these men to take all precautions. Sometimes that calls for being extra thorough.”
I don’t know what to do with my freed hands. Part of me wants to touch my neck, make sure there is nothing there. Part of me wants to attack. I have as little wish as Beryl to return to anything remotely similar to Stuart. Free hands and feet were never an opportunity I was afforded.
“Leave us.” The man waves away my guards and suddenly we are alone.
Even better.
“My name is Jimmy. I am sorry, once again, that you had to go through that.”
“Harlan.”
He looks me over, gauging me. Unlike Don I don’t feel any threat, no ulterior motives. The curiosity of a human meeting another versus the curiosity of a man looking for weaknesses.
“Please. Have a seat. Can I get you anything? Food? Water?”
I let the silence linger. It is, after all, all I have at the moment.
“You are probably wondering about your friends. They are showering. Or eating, depending on the speed in which they wash. Or maybe you’re wondering about this place.” He gives me a proud smile. “There are seventeen of us here and most have been here for a couple months, so I forget that this is a novelty. It didn’t used to be.” He stops himself and clears his throat. “I don’t like talking to myself. Let’s chat. Please.”
“What do you want me to say?”
He spreads his hands. “Anything you want. I simply want to get to know you.”
I lean forward. “The girl. She can’t speak. Don’t try to make her, she can’t.”
He frowns at that. “I wouldn’t dream of forcing her to do anything against her will.”
“Like kidnapping us?”
He walks to the window, a sigh escaping him. He smoothes back his hair, tucks in the back of his shirt, tics from his past life. “Don told me you were… wary. I respect that. Perhaps I should start?”
He looks at me and I nod. He beckons me and I am not fooled. This whole talk was leading to this. Whether or not he is a good person is still unknown. But he has given this speech before.
“Are you familiar with Don Quixote? The old man who looks to resurrect chivalry and ends up jousting with windmills?”
He waits until I give a terse nod before continuing.
“Well, I became a partner in Terra-Gen, a little conglomerate that was working to develop wind, solar, and geothermal resources. Renewable energy. I was already thirty-five. Felt a bit like Don Quixote out chasing windmills. I honestly didn’t think that we would be able to accomplish so much. I thought it was a valiant effort that would be recorded for people to see, and to marvel at, not something that would succeed.”
He pauses, chuckling. I see him reliving the moment, shaking his head, and I’m happy for him. He got to have that before everything changed.
“I wonder if civilization will fail to rise again. I wonder what people will think of the monstrous towers swinging their arms in the middle of the desert. I wonder if some fool will try to fight them.”
This has sobered him, and he goes to a cabinet and takes out two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. He pours one and puts it in front of me without asking if I want it. I do. But I don’t drink it.
“I was stationed out here, occasionally making trips out to China Lake to check on the thermal boys, but I had the wind and sun right here. Some people need green grass and lush forests to see vitality. I saw sun and wind and I saw so much potential.”
He takes a deep sip of his drink. “The wind didn’t stop blowing when people died. The sun didn’t stop shining. Come.” He moves towards the door. “There is someone I want you to meet.”
The abrupt change in direction catches me off guard, lulled into a trance by his story. He is being honest.
I follow him out of the room and down an empty hall. We stop next to a large ornate door and Jimmy punches a code into a screen and with a click the door opens. We enter a large suite, tastefully furnished. A large desk is stationed next to the bay windows and a man sits hunched over a pile of papers. He doesn’t bother looking up as we enter.
“This is Doctor Wong.” He walks over and stands behind the man. “Any progress?” The man looks up, giving me a glance before turning to Jimmy.
“I have taken the necessary samples, there are still tests to be run.”
Jimmy hides it well but I catch a flash of disappointment. He gives the doctor a pat on the shoulder before leading me out of the room. We enter his bedroom and I stop in the doorway. Why is he taking me here? He walks towards the far wall to what I assumed was the closet door. There is another digital pad and he hits a button and says, “honey, you have a second? I want to introduce you to someone.”
The screen comes to life and a little girl takes a step back and stares up at the camera. “Hello Daddy.”
There are dolls behind her in the middle of the floor, beyond I see a pile of wrappers and cans neatly stacked in a pile.
“Hey tough girl, how are you today?”
The girl sighs, gives a shrug. “Same as yesterday.”
Jimmy’s eyebrows are drawn up, this is hard for him. “Hang in there, we are close, very close. I want you to meet a new friend of mine.”
He gestures me forward and I step into frame. “This is Harlan. Say hi sweetie.”
She says hi to me as she has probably said hi to all the men who live here. Jimmy leans in, “Harlan brought a friend with him. A girl.”
The girl’s eyes light up and she tries to look past her dad. “Where?”
“I’m sorry, she was on the road a long time and she needs some time to clean up and rest. But we will introduce you real soon.”
The girl is genuinely excited, she squeals and does a little dance. Jimmy looks at me with a sad smile. “Okay, I’ll be back to chat with you soon. Evelyn? Honey, I’ll talk to you later.” The girl waves and goes back to her dolls.
Jimmy watches for a second before turning off the screen. He leads me out of the room and back into the common area with Doctor Wong.
“That is the panic room, you just saw. Evelyn used to play in there. It was her hideout when I had meetings or… dates.” He looks at me unashamed. “She was in there when the sickness hit. I locked her in there.” He looks at me, waiting for me to say something. I shrug.
“That was smart.”
He grimaces. “I hope so. It’s equipped with a bathroom. Running water pumped from a well. Fresh air filtered in from outside. Food for an entire family for two weeks.”
“How do you know that she isn’t immune?”
“Would you take that chance?” he says defensively, eyes locked on mine. “One day that door will have to open. But I’m not risking it all until I’m sure.”
He gets up and walks over to the window. The doctor is listening to the conversation now, lean
ing forward onto the desk, hands laced together to form a cradle for his chin.
“I will do anything to save my daughter. I’ve had everyone tested. Every last survivor. We think that whatever this sickness is it attacks the blood. But no other women survived. At least not around here. And now that we have found one, Harlan…” He trails off.
Doctor Wong turns his impassive gaze to me. “We only have one half of the equation. Your friend might provide the key to saving his daughter.”
I look at the two men. I understand this, and I understand the way that they are telling me this. They are giving me a chance to empathize, to see things from their point of view in the hope that I don’t make them do something that they don’t want to. As gentle as Jimmy seems there is no doubt that if I try to take Beryl away from him he will kill me.
“How long does she have?”
Jimmy lets out a breath and runs his hands through thinning hair. “One more week of food, maybe more if… If I ask her to eat less.” He swallows, turns away from me to hide the distress he feels.
“You’re not hurting my friend?” The doctor shakes his head no.
Jimmy turns, “your friend will not be harmed. You have my promise.”
“And if you find a cure, what happens then? Are we free to go?”
Jimmy gives a terse smile. “Of course. You are free to go right now, should you wish. Everyone but your friend, and only for a short time.”
I am insistent. “After this is done though, she gets to leave? We all get to leave?”
“Of course. I give you my word.”
“Can I see her now?”
Jimmy looks at the doctor who gives a shake of his head. “She indicated to me that she would rather be alone. I suggest giving her a day or two.”
“Indicated? You think you fucking understand her?” I am pissed. This guy thinks he can talk down to me, as if he would know her better than I do.
