The Chaos

by Sergio Gomez

  “Pa, what is it?” Charlie asked, whisper-shouting it across the room.

  Alejandro silenced him with a wave of his hand and then turned back to the action outside. Wanting very badly to run out and help the bear for some reason, but staying put because he knew damn well that it would be suicide to do so.

  Judging by the shapes he could make out, there were at least ten of them gathered out there.

  The bear rose to its hind legs, bared its teeth, and growled again.

  In response, a Noche ventured out into the light, and Alejandro got his first good look at one of these things. Its body was defined with muscles where patches of oil-black hair didn’t cover it. Its face was flat like that of a gorilla, but unlike a gorilla’s, it was more human somehow. Something with its eyes, Alejandro thought.

  The Noche rose up to its hind-legs, then beat its chest and growled at the bear. The bear went back down on all fours for a few seconds, then thought about it and rose back up with a louder roar.

  This prompted the rest of the Noches to step closer.

  The bear sensed the danger it was in, now that it could see the exact numbers and that the other nine were carrying rocks big enough to be called boulders.

  The bear turned to run, but as it did so, a rock that seemingly came out of nowhere from inside the dark, smashed right into its face and burst its snout into a fountain of blood.

  At the same time, the other Noches launched their own boulders at the bear. The rocks bounced off the bear, breaking bones on impact. One of the rocks hit the bear in the back of the foot and the bear fell on its side.

  The Noches jumped on the bear like a swarm of piranha. The one that had been in the darkness and hit the bear with the first boulder jumped out to join the rest.

  Chunks of skin and streams of blood flew through the air as their claws ripped the bear to pieces.

  This lasted a few seconds, and then one of them broke away from the group and let out a howl that stopped the others mid-action. They all turned to face him.

  He grunted some orders, and with the discipline of worker ants they picked up chunks of the dead bear and retreated into the dark. In as much time as it took them to rip the bear apart they cleaned up the mess and were gone.

  Alejandro collapsed to the floor. He could feel his heart racing in his chest.

  “Are they gone?” Charlie asked, his voice louder now. He knew the answer to his question, it was written all over his dad’s face.

  “Yeah, Mijo, they’re gone.”

  “They won, right dad? They beat the bear?”

  Alejandro nodded. “They did.”

  “I knew they were going to win. They always do.” Charlie said. He turned on his side, so that his back was facing Alejandro, and a few seconds later he was snoring.

  Alejandro found his water bottle lying next to his sleeping and took a big drink out of it. For the first time in a long while, he wished he had alcohol to drink.

  He wanted to forget what he had witnessed. But he wouldn’t be able to. He lay down and closed his eyes, and in his eyelids all he saw was the faces of Los Noches, gritting as they pulverized the bear with rocks.

  “Pa, I think you can beat them,” Charlie whispered in his semi-awake state.

  Alejandro felt something like the beginning of a chuckle in his chest. Then he rolled over in his sleeping bag and went to sleep, too.

  4

  Alejandro found himself awake for the fourth time, staring up at the ceiling. The sound of crickets chirping and owls hooting had been replaced by the twittering of morning birds and the rustling of squirrels running up and down treetops, suggesting it was morning time.

  He had been waking up all night, thrashing at the air and dripping in sweat. Sweat that was a combination of fear (from a nightmare he could hardly remember, but the spookiness of it carried on even when he awoke) and from the summer heat. He would lay there, eyes open the way he was now, the only sound in the room other than his thoughts were Charlie’s occasional tossing and turning.

  He would lay like this for fifteen minutes, thoughts of his wife, of Los Noches, of the bear being beaten to death, of him being beaten to death, of his plan if they encountered a group of Los Noches, of the number of bullets he had left in his gun, all thoughts that didn’t make it easy to get to sleep would race through his mind at once like cars on a busy highway that just missed colliding into one another.

  Then fatigue would win over and he’d fall back asleep—only to find himself in a nightmare where Los Noches were chasing him and Charlie. He would shoot at Los Noches, but eventually the gun would run out of bullets and Los Noches would catch up to them to do who-knows-what, because before he could find out his eyes would open and he would be sitting up, panting. And the cycle would continue, so yeah, he was still sore and tired and drowsy when morning came.

  Charlie awoke a little after 9am, and one look at his father’s face told him what he needed to know, but he asked anyway, “You didn’t sleep good, did you?”

  “I got as much as I need,” Alejandro said, winking.

  “Good.” Charlie sat up and stretched his arms out while yawning.

  Alejandro got up and started putting on his close. “Are you up for good or do you want to sleep some more?”

  “I’m up for good. Want me to make breakfast?”

  “No. I’ll make breakfast.” Alejandro dug through his backpack until he found a piece of soap. He handed it to Charlie. “Go into the kitchen downstairs and wash up with this. I’ll have breakfast ready when you return.”

  Charlie grabbed the soap and looked at Alejandro tentatively.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m scared.”

  “It’s daytime Charlie, they’re gone for hours. Come on, go and wash up.”

  Alejandro was sitting down putting on his boots and his gun was next to him, not yet holstered. His son was eyeing it up, and it made a cold block form in the pit of Alejandro’s stomach. “You can’t take the gun. You’re not ready to use it yet.”

  “I didn’t want—“

  “I saw how you looked at it, Charlie, don’t lie. You’ll learn how to shoot when you’re older.”

  “I don’t want to shoot anything; I just would feel safer if I could take it.”

  Alejandro ran his hand through his beard as he scanned the attic. There was a biking helmet sticking out of one of the boxes a few steps away from where they had setup their sleeping bag. He walked over and picked it up.

  He put the helmet on Charlie’s head, fixing the strap so that it was snug. “Let’s play a game, okay?”

  “Uh, okay.”

  “This helmet gives you superpowers. Like…uh, The Flash. It makes you quicker, you following?”

  Charlie nodded.

  “Okay, well, you’re going to go downstairs and clean up in the sink. It’ll feel like you’re down there for ten minutes, but because of the helmet making you faster you’ll actually be back in one minute. All dad needs is one minute to him, okay?”

  Charlie relaxed a little now that a game was introduced. “Wait, how will I wash my hair if I have to keep the helmet on?”

  This had been easier when Charlie was younger; when he didn’t point out logical flaws in the rules of the games. “Keep your foot on the helmet and the powers still work.”

  It was a good enough answer for Charlie. “Alright, only one minute, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  Charlie turned and ran out of the attic, leaving the door open.

  When he heard him descending the stairs Alejandro turned back to what he referred to as his “workstation”. The radio was still on the table, tuned to the frequency where he had found Bill’s message.

  He sat down in the chair and clicked the radio on.

  He wanted Charlie out of the room when he did this in the off chance that the voice had been a figment of both of their imaginations. It seemed unlikely, and Alejandro was having a hard time justifying how it could even be possible, but there was
a nugget of doubt in his mind, and if it turned out to be true, that they both had imagined the voice on the radio, then he would keep the truth from Charlie for as long as he could.

  But of course, that didn’t turn out to be the case. The message came through the radio as clear as it had last night.

  Already feeling good about the day he got up and went over to the stove to start breakfast. No better way than to start your morning with positive vibes and a full stomach.

  *

  They stepped out into the daylight, shielding their eyes from the sun and feeling a bit like people kept in a dungeon for too long. A deer munching on the dead grass of a lawn across the pizza shop stopped and looked at them, then went back to gnawing on its snack. A bear last night, a deer that wasn’t afraid of humans. Man and beast really were becoming one in this new world.

  Alejandro looked down at the map. It was rough around the edges, there were creases running along the middle of it from where it was folded too many times, but it was the best he had found in that old attic to replace his general map of Pennsylvania he had been using to navigate.

  The map had arrows that indicated the quickest route to Bill. He had made these markings by the lantern during one of his many wake ups in the middle of the night. A racing mind was hard to rest.

  The small town they were in didn’t show up on the map, but he had seen a couple of signs on the way through yesterday and used them to pinpoint an approximation of where the town was.

  “We’re going to find the other survivors, right Daddy?” Charlie asked, squinting against the sunlight that went directly into his eyes when he looked up at his dad.

  “Yeah, and we’ve got a lot of walking to do.” Alejandro told him.

  Charlie’s head drooped down and he sighed. “How much?”

  Alejandro glanced at the map. “Not sure, maybe two days’ worth.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  Alejandro knew that Charlie was burned out from walking. He had been complaining almost every night about his sore legs, and shit, even his own legs felt like they were on fire every night when he stretched out on the sleeping bag. He knew that by midday they both would begin to drag their feet like they were made of lead, sweat would pour out of them, their shirts would start to stick to their bodies and they’d have to take them off, and that their tongues would feel dry and foreign in their mouths, just like every other day.

  He looked at the cars parked on the side of the narrow roads, thinking that if only those were in working condition this would be so much easier. Sitting on flat tires, windows smashed out, rusting, upholstery turned to nests by the rats that skittered through the streets at night or ripped to shreds by who knows what animals, Alejandro knew that the days when those vehicles were in working condition were long gone.

  He grabbed Charlie by the shoulder and together they started their hike across Pennsylvania again. Only this time it felt different because now there was a real sense of direction, a clear goal at the end instead of the hopeless wandering they had been enduring before.

  *

  A feeling of having to do one more thing compelled Alejandro to suddenly stop at the edge of town.

  “Hold on, Charlie.”

  “Huh?” Charlie said, turning to face him, realizing that he had walked a couple of steps past him.

  “Wait here for a few seconds. I need to run back into town.”

  “For what?”

  Good question. Alejandro thought. “Just wait, okay?”

  Charlie’s eyebrows knitted together. “Um, okay.”

  Alejandro sprinted back into town, unsure of where he was heading to, but the closer he got to the alley, the clearer it became. A morbid curiosity drove him to the end of the alleyway behind the pizza shop, where the bear had its encounter with Los Noches. He stopped at the opening of the alleyway.

  There was nothing left of the bear. Not even a fragment of bone. The only evidence left of the struggle from the night before was the swatches of browning blood that covered the cement like rust.

  Something in the pit of Alejandro’s stomach quivered, “Dios Mio.”

  Before he could begin to process the scene any more, Charlie’s screaming voice pierced into his ear like an arrow.

  Alejandro drew his gun and sprinted back to Charlie, the bear and what happened to it were the furthest things from his mind now.

  5

  Charlie was standing where he left him, looking into the thicket of woods beyond the town. He put the gun away and grabbed him by the shoulders. Charlie didn’t bat an eyelash, he just remained transfixed on the wooded area.

  “Que pasó? Charlie? Que es, mijo?” Alejandro asked, his face inches away from Charlie’s. Their eyes met but Charlie was looking past him as if in a trance, but at least he wasn’t harmed.

  Alejandro shook him to snap him out of it.

  Charlie blinked, “I just saw a truck…it was moving.”

  Alejandro looked to where Charlie’s eyes were transfixed and sure enough there were fresh tire marks in the dirt.

  “Where did it come from?”

  Charlie pointed to another part of the woods where the brush was run down, like a bad hairstyle, the weeds and bushes pointed every which way and flattened down the middle. There were more tire marks after the brush ended. Tracing them Alejandro saw that the truck came out of the woods and then made a U-turn back into the trees. The driver probably got surprised when he saw a boy in the middle of town and decided to retreat back to safety.

  “Did you find what you were looking for?” Charlie asked, pointing back in the direction of the town.

  “Sort of.”

  “You went back to look for the bear, right?”

  “Yeah.” Alejandro said. For some reason he couldn’t explain he was hesitant to admit this.

  “Did they eat the bear?” Charlie asked.

  “Yes, they did.”

  Charlie’s eyes grew big. “The whole thing?”

  “There was nothing left of him, so I guess.”

  He took a second to think about that. A small amount of sadness rolled through him, because like his dad he somehow had felt like the bear was an ally.

  Charlie grabbed Alejandro by the wrist. “Is it okay if we go through the woods like this?”

  Alejandro nodded. “Of course.”

  They walked into the woods, and although it wasn’t very dense, there were enough trees surrounding them to provide protection from the beaming sun.

  6

  The tire tracks took them through a hike in the woods that was a mile and a half long, and although it was cooler under the trees than being exposed to the sun, they came out of the woods drenched in sticky sweat. Humidity was hanging in the air like a ghost in a haunted house, everyone knows it’s there but everyone tries to ignore it, until you hear a bump in the middle of the night or the tickle from the beads of sweat rolling down your back remind you that it’s there.

  The woods ended in a narrow road that if they continued straight on would put them in the courtyard of an old church—or what had been a church in another time.

  Surrounding the religious ground was a stone wall that separated the church from the rest of the world. There was a hole in it where a gate was supposed to be, but instead it was on the ground, twisted and bent out of shape. Further up the lawn, by the steps of the church, was the black truck.

  “There it is,” Charlie whispered, pointing to it.

  Alejandro nodded and drew his gun.

  “They might need help,” Alejandro said, as if Charlie had asked a question. He wasn’t sure why they were whispering, but it seemed safer and more natural to do so.

  Alejandro headed toward the church, and Charlie followed close behind.

  “Pa, if we’re going to help why do you need—“

  Alejandro threw his hand in the air to quiet him.

  When they reached the stone wall, just before going through, Alejandro slowed his pace.

  They walked around the mangled gate, which p
ut them about halfway to the cobblestone steps at the front of the church where a big, red, out of place door greeted its visitors.

  Alejandro put his hand out to tell Charlie to stay put, and then went up the steps.

  He got as far as the second step before a thud coming from the other side of the door made him step back down to the lawn.

  “Charlie, corre, escondete.” He said, his voice no longer a whisper.

  Charlie bolted across the lawn and dove behind the wall. Just as he did a gun went off.

  He pressed his back against the wall, and thought it was over, that the sound of the gun was his dad shooting whoever—or whatever—had come from the other side.

  But then bad thoughts crept into his mind. Maybe the other person had a gun, and maybe it was his dad that had been shot.

  He felt his heart speeding back up and closed his eyes tightly, and hoped.

  *

  A burly man wielding an axe came barreling out of the door. With only a split second to think of what to do, he decided on firing a warning shot instead of killing the man. The bullet went through the grass at the foot of the steps.

  It was enough, for now. The man stopped in his tracks and gazed down at the hole in the dirt inches away from his foot. Then he looked up. In the general direction of where Alejandro was standing, but there was no cohesion in his eyes, the cogs behind them were stuck and nothing of the situation was being processed. He just stared blankly.

  “Sir—“Alejandro started, then the man dropped the axe and stepped on the grass and fell to his knees.

  Alejandro took a step forward, gun still pointed at him in case he tried anything funny.

  The man didn’t fall over the way Alejandro anticipated, he just remained kneeling on the grass mumbling, a prayer or something.

  “What?” Alejandro asked, and stepped an inch closer.

  “They’re dead.” The man said, a little clearer now.

  “Who’s dead?”

  “Everyone. Everyone is dead.”

  He wasn’t kidding, Alejandro thought, this was the first live person him and Charlie had come into contact with for months. And that was only because Alejandro was counting the drunken old man living underneath the train tracks miles away from their home, which was the last spot they had seen a person up until now.