by AJ Rose
“That stuff is expensive,” Elliot said absently.
“It’s also vacuum packed, doesn’t require refrigeration, is loaded with protein, lightweight, and can be evenly distributed among clothes and other supplies,” Ash muttered, talking low so no one nearby would hear.
Duh, Elliot thought. He should have figured that out.
A few aisles over, a glass jar hit the floor, and two women started shouting at each other. Ash and Elliot exchanged glances, and by mutual silent agreement, picked up the pace. The next row contained drinks, and Ash chose a box of lemonade powdered flavoring packs measured for standard water bottles. Raising a curious brow, he said nothing, but Ash answered the unspoken question.
“Riley. Might have something to look forward to now and then.”
“What are you talking about?”
Ash shook his head. “Not here.”
Elliot followed him to the bread section, where to his surprise, Ash put a couple packages of pre-made cinnamon rolls, a box of Ho Hos, and some oatmeal cream cookies in the cart.
“Not the best breakfast, but they’re fast. Let’s get some granola bars and get the fuck out of here.”
The screeching of the women in the shouting match had been mitigated by store employees, but Ash didn’t seem to care. His eyes darted to everyone they passed as he hurried to the checkouts. Elliot looked over the list of prices, hoping he’d gotten them all correct as Ash spoke to the woman in front of them.
“I’ll give you fifty bucks if you let us go ahead of you.”
With the line four customers deep, all of whom pushed full carts, Elliot was surprised when she agreed. He wasn’t sure he’d have had the patience to wait any longer than necessary. He understood why the door manager was sweating so profusely. Even on a pleasant, sixty-degree day, the temperature inside the store had climbed without generators and the dead freezer section to help regulate it.
Ash got the guy next in line to agree to the fifty bucks as well, but the one next up refused. So they waited, and Elliot wondered how Ash could be so free with his money here when it had been clear at Charlotte’s there wasn’t a lot to be throwing around. He’d wished he had a stash of cash to help them out. He’d never had to worry about money; it was always a card swipe away and in abundance, so wondering if they would run short was a new, uneasy sensation in his gut. Ash, however, didn’t seem overly concerned.
The checker was a woman in her mid- to late-thirties, also a manager, who tallied the lists of prices customers brought as the customers bagged the items. She had the sales tax down pat and efficiently totaled each customer out as quickly as she could while thanking them for their patience. Given that her line was the only one open, and the cash drawer was ajar and nearly overflowing with bills, Elliot could easily imagine the potential for deterioration of the situation. When it was their turn, he made sure to thank her for allowing people in to stock up.
“I don’t want my neighbors coming to my house for dinner, so I’m just making sure they can make their own.” She winked, fingers clacking away on the oversize buttons of her calculator. There was a battery-powered outdoor light clipped to the post bearing the checkout lane number, illuminating her work area. The heat from the bulb added to the discomfort of the still air in the store. It was a disaster waiting to happen, and the longer they were there, the more uncomfortable Elliot got. No wonder Ash was flipping cans into paper bags at a speed that seemed impossible.
The manager, whose nametag read Sheila, chuckled. “You want a job? We put all our baggers on flashlight duty.”
Ash smiled at her, though he continued to scan the store, keeping tabs on their surroundings. “Used to have a job as a checker, when I was in high school.”
“Even better,” Sheila said. “I could use a break.”
“I bet,” Ash said sympathetically, though his eyes still darted, always assessing. Elliot could tell he was tense despite his fluid movements. Elliot caught himself staring and looked away, thankful the heat in his cheeks would be less visible in the darkened store and blamed on the stuffy room.
Pushing the cart around the end of the counter, he stepped to Ash’s side and helped him bag food. Despite the establishment’s sprawling square footage, the walls were beginning to close in on him, and he really didn’t want to have another freak out like he’d experienced on the Interstate, especially not in front of so many strangers. Nor could he afford another fadeout like he’d had at the park that morning.
“Can you tell me where the nearest payphone is, Sheila?” Ash asked.
She laughed. “Phones are down, right? No one in town has any service, so I don’t know who you’d call.”
“I’ve got family out of state,” Elliot said. “I’d like to let them know I’m okay, and sometimes payphones have enough juice to make a call or two if their switch station has a generator.” He parroted Ash’s facts from the night before.
She frowned thoughtfully, finishing up their tally and tapping the calculator to bring up their total. “One forty-three sixteen is your total. I think maybe there’s one at the mall.”
“That’s still open?” Ash asked, seemingly surprised. “I figured they’d be out of business by now.”
Sheila shook her head. “Bass Pro keeps it going, though a lot of stores have shut down. It might be open, depending on if their generators haven’t failed them like ours did.”
Ash nodded, smiling as he loaded the paper bags of merchandise into the cart. “We need to go to Bass Pro anyway. Thanks for the tip.”
“You’re welcome.”
They concluded the transaction, Ash shifting from foot to foot while he waited for Sheila to count out his exact change from the three fifties he used to pay. She apologized for the quarters due to running low on singles.
“Keys, and I’ll start loading the trunk,” Elliot interrupted before Ash could say forget the change, and Ash tossed them to Elliot. As soon as he emerged into the bright sun, Elliot took a deep breath and hurried to the Audi to load their haul. He was nearly done when Ash walked up.
“God, those people have no clue.”
The screech of rubber on asphalt pulled their attention to the nearest intersection as a truck raised blue smoke from locked wheels, the driver trying in vain to brake and avoid the car that had careened into his path. With dark stoplights, people were generally being careful, but it appeared not everyone was behaving.
The truck’s front bumper connected solidly with the rear quarter panel of the car, spinning it halfway around as the people inside could be heard screaming until they came to a jarring halt.
“We have to go,” Ash said forcefully, and Elliot made no argument, tossing the last bag in the trunk and shoving the cart in the corral next to where they’d parked. Ash wasted no time, driving around the store to the back and exiting via the delivery entrance. It took him to a frontage road, which he followed to the darkened stoplight in front of the Five Fingers Mall, proudly declared from a sign at the turn into the parking lot.
Ash drove almost recklessly through the nearly empty parking lot, coming to a stop in front of the entrance to the Bass Pro Shop, the mall’s main attraction. Unlike the grocery store, no one was visible inside, and there was no sign of life anywhere. The quiet was eerie, and Elliot shivered.
“You know what’s kind of odd?” he mused. “Haven’t seen a single cop. Don’t they usually come out more in times like this, not less?”
Ash shrugged. “A lot of them are on backup duty for the prison. I bet if we were to go over to the electronics store or Walmart, there’d be at least a couple directing traffic and keeping an eye on possible looters.”
Elliot shook his head ruefully. “That’s so stupid. Here, lemme steal this TV, but I have nowhere to plug it in that might work.”
“Maybe they think they can sell it later or something. Who knows?” Ash shut off the engine and got out.
They approached the glass doors, beyond which were visible several variations of fishing boats in the o
utdoor shop’s main showroom. But the doors didn’t glide open, and Ash tried to wedge his fingers in the miniscule crack and force them apart to no avail. Cursing under his breath, he pointed, and Elliot could see the deadbolt lock in the crack between the doors. It was fully engaged. Cupping his hands around his face, he peered into the store, hoping to see movement inside. Without a clue as to where a payphone might be, Elliot had hoped at least the mall would be open, but it didn’t seem everything would work out on this day.
A sign he hadn’t noticed before was posted beside the doors: Closed until further notice. No loitering. Premises watched by closed circuit camera.
Elliot chuckled derisively, and Ash walked up behind him, reading over his shoulder.
“Cameras running on what fucking power?” Ash groused, shaking his head. Elliot saw his entertained expression reflected in the glass.
“Maybe there’s a hamster on a wheel running for his life and powering the lone camera that works in this entire parking lot.”
“That would have to be a big-ass hamster,” Ash grinned, playing along. He trailed a finger across the back of Elliot’s hand and tilted his head at the car. Elliot followed, the glare from the sun making him squint once they passed from the shade of the entrance’s massive overhang.
“Haven’t you seen the size of the fish they keep in the tanks in these stores? The hamster is the size of a beaver.”
“Who is feeding the hamster?”
Elliot shrugged. “Should we call animal control? Maybe they’d intervene.”
Ash chuckled and started the car, not bothering with his seatbelt while they circled the building slowly, scouring the exterior for something or someone useful. Maybe one of the other stores was open. Elliot was so intent on scrutinizing for signs of life, he missed it.
“There!” Ash practically shouted, slamming on the brakes. Elliot kept himself from kissing the dash with a stiff arm, trying to see the reason Ash was excited. The engine gave a high-pitched whir as Ash reversed quickly and parked in the movie theater’s fire lane. The marquee proclaimed a movie that had been out for several months, and Elliot shivered, overcome with a sudden, overwhelming feeling of abandonment. When Ash pointed, his misgivings vanished.
“I could kiss you!” he exclaimed, throwing the passenger door open and striding purposefully to the payphone, yanking the receiver off the cradle. The buzz of the dial tone made him laugh with a touch of hysteria. He shoved a hand in his jeans pocket, looking for quarters to feed the machine and realized he had nothing.
Ash thrust his hand out, palm open to the sky, several quarters gleaming flatly. “Exact change from Sheila.” He grinned.
“God bless Sheila,” Elliot said, grinning back. He deposited fifty cents and dialed his father’s satellite phone number from memory. A recording came on and said if he wanted to complete his call, he’d need to deposit another dollar fifty in quarters. Groaning, Elliot scooped the rest of Ash’s change from him. “Check the console of my car and see if there’s more. Otherwise I’ll only have a couple minutes.”
“Why can’t you just give him the payphone number and have him call you back?” Ash asked. “Or call collect?”
Elliot was too busy paying attention to the clang of coins causing the line to click to do more than point at the “no incoming calls” sticker affixed above the number pad. He vaguely remembered Brian trying to freak him out by telling him about payphones when he was younger and how antiquated technology had been before Elliot was born. He’d explained some of them were one-sided to prevent drug dealers from using the numbers anonymously in conjunction with pagers, which only doctors used now. A few seconds later, the strange ringing of a satellite phone began, interrupted by shuffling, a crash, and Elliot forgot all about the workings of payphones beyond that this one brought him in contact with his parents.
“Elliot? Is that you?” The anxious voice of Beth Davenport washed over Elliot.
“Yeah, Mom. I’m okay.” His knees went a little weak. He’d known they were likely fine, being on a cruise ship far away from New York, but there was no worry quite like an irrational worry. Speaking to her went a long way toward soothing his shredded nerves.
“Oh thank god!” she exclaimed. “Steven! It’s Elliot!”
There was more rustling, and Elliot’s father came on the line. “Son, are you okay?” It was rare when his father showed much emotion aside from what helped him on a global scale as the CEO and president of Davenport Oil, but here, in this empty parking lot, Elliot heard Steven Davenport’s relief all the way to his marrow. He nearly sagged against the payphone.
“Yeah, Dad. I’m fine. I helped a friend drive up to Auburn, New York, to get to his sister and her ten-year-old son when the city lost power.” Elliot swallowed, waiting for his dad to decide if that was idiocy or genius.
“You should have gone straight home and waited for Brian to come get you, but I suppose it’s better you’re out of the city sooner rather than later.” Was that it? His dad wasn’t going to pick apart his decision consequence by consequence like he usually did? Elliot’s shoulders dipped as he lost a truckload of tension. “Listen, son—”
“Please deposit one dollar and fifty cents to continue your call,” the recorded voice interrupted. Elliot picked out and deposited another six quarters, their drop into the hollow chamber inside the phone unsettlingly loud.
“I don’t have a lot of time, Dad. About another two minutes’ worth of change.”
“Why don’t I call you back? I have the number from caller ID.”
“Payphone sticker says no incoming calls. I have no other way to talk to you.”
“I’ll make this quick, then. Stay where you are. I’ll send Brian to you, and when he arrives, do as he says. I will give him instructions on how to get you to safety. I’ve spoken with Deputy Commander Oliver McGinn at Fort Hamilton, and the military is mobilizing.”
“Military?” Elliot asked dumbly, suddenly cold despite the pleasant, sunny afternoon. “Did the city get that bad already? The power’s been out less than twenty-four hours. Surely people can be patient for a day.” It was never a good idea to show confusion in his father’s presence, even over the phone, but Elliot couldn’t help it.
“Son, listen. It’s not just New York City, or even the state, that lost power.”
“I know. We drove through parts of Jersey and Pennsylvania, and the interstate was dark the whole way.”
“It’s the entire eastern half of the country, Elliot.”
A high, buzzing whine settled in Elliot’s ears, blotting out the conversation as he gaped at Ash, who looked at him in puzzlement.
“What did you say?” he said, voice cracking.
“They don’t know what started it, but the worst of the damage is in D.C. When the power failed in the capitol, it caused a domino effect, and everything from the Rocky Mountains to the Atlantic Ocean is in a blackout.”
“Holy god,” he muttered, clutching the phone with a sweaty hand. “What do we do? Dad, what do we do now?” The import of the situation had yet to sink in, but Elliot knew, without a doubt, this was bad. Epically bad.
“Please deposit one dollar and fifty cents to continue your call.”
“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath, plinking his remaining change into the box.
“When Brian gets there, you do exactly what he says.” Steven Davenport hadn’t gotten to be a billionaire without being able to think quickly on his feet. “I’ll send him to you, and from there, you’ll get in contact with McGinn to find out the best course of action. Is your friend willing to drive you to wherever McGinn tells you to go?”
Elliot looked at Ash, who’d remained quiet, not interrupting due to the shortage of time for the call. “He’s got a plan of his own, Dad.”
“No, Elliot,” Steven replied sternly. “I’m getting you to the quickest and safest pocket I can. Unless your friend’s plan involves finding a military base and taking shelter with other civilians, you’ll do as I say.”
<
br /> Elliot closed his eyes. Holy balls, half the country was without power. There was absolutely no way this would be resolved in days or even weeks. His mind whirled with possibilities and responses, but his time was running out.
“What’s the government saying?”
“They’re urging people with power in the western portion of the country to sit tight, let the military respond with emergency management and not take matters into their own hands. The president and his staff, plus key members of the cabinet, have been moved to an undisclosed location. There’ve been reports of several crashed planes, mostly in the Maryland, Washington, D.C. vicinity, so the speculation is a weapon of some kind was detonated. They’re investigating, as well as calling all active duty and reserves to check in with their commanding officers. Some of the places near major military installations are under martial law, but other areas, like New York City, haven’t been neutralized yet. The looting has already started. As soon as people realize the extent of the problem, it’ll get much worse before it gets better. Do not go home.”
“Okay,” Elliot agreed readily, sick to his stomach. Unconsciously, he began his panic breathing.
“I’ll speak to Brian, and we’ll formulate a plan, son. I’m not leaving you to fend for yourself. You need to stay calm. Are you somewhere safe in case…?”
“I’m with Ash. I’m okay right now. We’re not hurt, and he’s gathering food and supplies to get us through the next few days while we wait.” He said nothing of Ash’s desire to go west.
“Ash who?”
Elliot cleared his throat. “Asher Caine, Dad. My chem lab partner. I’ve told you about him before. We’re at his sister’s.” He rattled off the address while Ash raised a brow at him.
“Who are his parents?”
“Seriously? At a time like this, you’re worried about pedigree?”
“No, Elliot,” his father snapped. “I merely wondered if there was someone I could contact to alert them of their son’s safety.”
