by Hunt, James
The breathing was getting a little easier, but he still couldn’t move around a lot. His body felt like concrete, heavy and rigid. He was resting in his room when Anne came and knocked on the door.
“Honey, Fay’s here,” Anne said.
“Send her in.”
Fay had her daily basket of provisions that she came in from town to get.
“I suppose you still haven’t changed your mind?” Fay asked.
“No.”
“There has to be a way to fix this, Mike.”
“There isn’t.”
“If you could just talk to him. Hear him out.”
“It’s good to see you, Fay.”
Mike didn’t have anything else to add on the subject. He closed his eyes and went back to sleep.
He knew what she wanted. She wanted him to let Jung back in the cabin, into their circle. But it was something he just couldn’t do. Jung crossed a line that he never should have tried. He put Mike’s family in danger, and it almost got them killed. It wasn’t something that he took lightly.
Fay had chosen to stay with Jung and his kids at the motel in town. He knew she felt that he was being too hard on him, but Mike didn’t care. He’d given up enough already. He didn’t have any more charity to give.
***
The cabin was gathered around the dinner table. It was the first time Mike and Kalen decided to join everyone and eat in the kitchen.
There was a sense of relief when everyone saw Mike and Kalen walk in. For them it was a sign of things getting back to normal. For Mike and Kalen, it was them ready to face the people around them.
There wasn’t much talk. A few comments here and there, but Mike was thankful he didn’t have to say anything.
He knew everyone was already aware of the trip to Cincinnati. There wasn’t much objection when it was brought up. Everyone seemed to be glad to go. It gave everyone a sense of hope that once they made it to Cincinnati they’d be safe and that soon they’d be able to go home.
Mike wasn’t sure what home meant to him anymore. He wanted to believe that it was still a place where his family was, and that was true, but if his family wasn’t safe, then how could they enjoy their time together? How was someone supposed to grow and love and feel joy when the constant threat of violence was hanging over their heads?
He couldn’t answer that question now. All he was focusing on were the faces around the table. These were the people he could trust. This was his family.
Six Months after Blackout
Ben Sullivan took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. He’d been staring at data and spreadsheets for the past three hours. His eyes were dry and bloodshot. He needed to take a break.
He walked over to the snack machine and swiped his card. He pressed A7, and a Snickers dropped to the slot at the bottom.
His partner, Mitch, walked in with another file just as Ben was about to take a bite.
“C’mon, Mitch. I need a break,” Ben said.
“Trust me, you’ll want to take a look at this one. It’s Cincinnati.”
Ben raised his eyebrows. He stuffed the rest of the candy bar in his mouth and snatched the file from Mitch’s hands.
He flipped through the manila folder, studying the notes, pictures, and interviews that had already taken place.
“When did he get here?” Ben asked, not looking up from the file.
“About an hour ago. We have him in a holding cell. Should I bring him in?”
“I’ll meet you there in five minutes.”
Ben couldn’t believe it. Since the power came back on he must have questioned more than one hundred people who were indicted with crimes during the power outage.
He was put in charge with investigating all major crimes in the northeast that were committed during the time the EMP blast took out power for the entire country.
Most of the stuff he ran across were murder charges, but this guy, he was a big fish. The allegations coming out of Cincinnati were huge. People were still scrambling to figure out what happened, and if this guy was everything the file was telling him, then Ben could have just found the biggest break of his career.
Ben took a seat behind the two-way glass as Mitch brought in the suspect. His face was bearded, and he looked nothing like the picture in his file.
The violence on this guy’s record was incredible. Ben was surprised they didn’t bring him in with a straight jacket on.
Once the prisoner was secure with his hands and feet shackled, Ben walked in and sat down across from him. He slapped the file on the clean steel table between them, folded his hands together, and leaned forward.
“That file doesn’t paint a very flattering picture,” Ben said.
The prisoner said nothing.
“We’re going to be spending quite a lot of time together, and I can tell you that it will make both our lives a lot easier if you cooperate,” Ben said.
The prisoner wouldn’t look at Ben. He kept his face down, staring at his hands. That’s when Ben noticed the rigidness of the man’s fingers. They were swollen and crooked.
“If you give me something now I might be able to do something about your hands. Maybe a little extra pain reliever? Hmm? How does that sound?” Ben asked.
“Pain?”
“Pain reliever. For your hands. It loos like pretty bad arthritis.”
The prisoner looked up, his eyes shielded from the ragged strands of hair. He leaned forward.
“There is nothing on this planet that can numb me after the things I’ve done,” the prisoner said.
Ben leaned back into his chair. He pulled the Snickers bar from his pocket and took a bite.
“Well,” Ben said, trying to talk and chew at the same time. “It could be a long night for the both of us, Mike.”
