The Sleep of the Gods

by James Sperl

“Eagle Two to Eagle Eye, come back,” a husky sounding male voice said.

  Janet reached behind her and freed the walkie from its holster. She palmed the radio and jammed it to her ear like a telephone. “Eagle Eye to Eagle Two, go ahead.”

  “Hey, uh, Janet...you better get up here,” the voice said ominously. “I think you’re gonna want to see this.”

  Janet and Derrik belly crawled along the gravelly rooftop toward Steve, who lay prone at the roof’s edge. His eyes were jammed into a pair of binoculars, peering cautiously over the side.

  “Whaddya got, Steve?” Janet said reaching him and huffing powerfully, small clouds of dust blooming from the dirty rooftop with each breath.

  “I don’t like it, Janet,” Steve said wrenching the binoculars from his face and handing them over. “Not one fucking bit.”

  Janet took the binoculars and scooted closer to the ledge. She craned her head up over the berm and carefully placed the binoculars to her eyes.

  “At two o’clock. Beside the cart return,” Steve whispered.

  Janet angled around, her view from the binoculars passing over asphalt and abandoned vehicles. She twisted the focus ring discreetly and adjusted the lens spacing to better suit her eyes when she suddenly froze.

  “Shit,” she said.

  “Yeah, that’s kind of what I thought.”

  “How long have they been there?”

  “Fifteen minutes now. They haven’t spoken near as I could tell and they haven’t moved an inch. They’re just standing there. Staring.”

  Janet pulled her in elbows in an attempt to stabilize her arms. She pushed gently with her feet, scooting herself closer to the ledge. She glared through the lenses steadily despite the rise of twitchy butterfly activity in her belly.

  There were two of them, a young girl and an elderly man. The girl could’ve been anywhere from fifteen to twenty-two. Her facial features leaned toward an older gal, what with her deep-set eyes and dye-blonde hair. She had a tiny frame and wore a petite lavender summer dress. Janet imagined that in a different life she would have been very popular with the boys.

  The man was easily pushing seventy. His face was a roadmap of wrinkles and lines. His hands appeared to be twisted into arthritic pretzels, but he stood amazingly erect despite the apparent affliction to his limbs. He wore a simple white t-shirt that was stained with something dark and had on a pair of filthy painter’s khakis. His thin, wispy hair blew slightly in the early morning breeze.

  Janet rolled over onto her back and faced Steve. “Did they come together?”

  Steve nodded. “Yeah, they just sort of strolled into the parking lot then, for whatever reason, just stopped.” Steve peered quickly back over the ledge. “I’d seen a few here and there wander over this way. But never this. Fucking gives me the creeps.”

  “Want me to take ‘em?” Derrik offered a little too enthusiastically.

  “Relax, killer,” Janet said. “We don’t know how many of them may be close by. Gunshots might draw attention.”

  “So what do we do about it?” Steve asked.

  “Nothing. For right now at least.” Janet took another look into the parking lot. “Let them stare if they want. They can’t harm us from there and they’re certainly not going to learn anything.”

  “You think they know we’re all in here?” Derrik said.

  Janet twisted and lay back, staring up at the blue sky. She exhaled wearily. “Man, I fucking miss daylight,” she commented. “Just to walk on green grass, see and hear the rattle of leaves. Blue sky and white and purple clouds floating overhead. Maybe a gentle breeze blowing. Be nice to actually experience that again.”

  Derrik shot a look over to Steve, who responded with a shrug of his shoulders. Janet peeked back at the two individuals in the parking lot.

  “Come on, Derrik.” She said with effort. “We’ve got a lot of preparations to make.” Janet rolled back onto her stomach. “And a whole lot of bad news to break.”

  The decision had not been an easy one to make and proved even more difficult to accept.

  When Janet broke the news to the citizens of Bayview that their home for the past two and a half months would and should be abandoned, she was met with a virtually universal ire. The initial furor over her announcement had come perilously close to sparking a riot, to the point that Janet’s loyalists—i.e., the ones with the guns—had to stand watch as Janet presented her theory regarding the revelation of the two New Humans and all that it implied.

  She told of Alvin’s experience and the costly toll the residents of Apache Camp had suffered as a result of their poor decision-making. Slowly, she weaned a sizeable majority over to her logic with her common sense approach and equal reluctance in leaving a place into which she had put so much heart and soul. It had, quite frankly, become home.

  Catherine’s words echoed in Janet’s mind. They’ve evolved, she had said. And with that simple yet profound explanation had planted the seed of uncertainty with regard to the New Humans. Anything was possible. And they should be prepared for that.

  The declaration of abandonment was unable to be unanimously supported. A small faction of mall residents had flat out refused to leave; and their decision to remain had been backed by Janet. She wasn’t the president, after all. Not even a dictator. It wasn’t her place to tell people what to do. If certain folks opted to stay behind despite the evidence, which leaned towards an inevitable raid, then that was their decision. She was only the messenger. But to her the message was loud and clear. She only hoped that as the reality of the escape neared, the few who had chosen to remain would be compelled out of sheer peer pressure to join them. But she had said her piece.

  This was thirty-six minutes ago.

  Every minute since had been a loosely organized form of chaos. With her final utterance of “I wish luck to us all”, Janet had initiated a frenzy as the residents of Bayview launched into action, gathering and packing, preparing for nightfall and the subsequent attempt at evacuation.

  Janet laid out her plan, meeting little dissent from those who supported her. Her consensus was that action be taken immediately, the contention being that every minute passed was another minute in which the New Humans could further evolve. To her, “wait and see” was not an option.

  The plan was relatively simple and, she felt, smart if not enormously dangerous. Those who were willing would vacate the mall on foot in groups of ten spaced several minutes apart. Each group would take an alternate route through the city, rendezvousing at a newly selected location. Janet had it on pretty good authority that the city university’s football stadium, a formidable structure by college standards, had remained vacant. The vast network of locker rooms, meeting rooms, reception areas and bath facilities could prove to be a worthy successor to the glossy and plus-sized Bayview. Security would be easier with fewer entry points and the more confined space would leave little room for surprise. If the information regarding its vacancy was accurate then the wayward souls of Bayview could be tucking themselves in in their new home within a matter of hours. But she doubted anyone would really be able to sleep on this day.

  The strategy was fundamentally sound. There weren’t many options and Janet had done an admirable job in formulating a workable plan given the circumstances. And as Catherine stuffed the few items she had unpacked back into her knapsack, she thought it a shame that she and her family would not be joining the rest of the group. She had a feeling her decision would be frowned upon by her children, but her greater dread lay in explaining the move to Janet.

  Josh, Abby and Tamara had already gathered their items together. They sat patiently on the edge of Catherine’s cot as people moved to and fro in a flurry of activity. Josh stared guiltily as individuals shuffled about.

  “I feel like we should be doing something,” he said, looking over at Catherine. “What time is the first group heading out?”

  “I think she said she wanted to get moving around ten. Just after the sun had completely set.” Catherin
e searched the room and found Janet. “But that doesn’t concern us.”

  Josh snapped his head at Catherine. “What do you mean ‘that doesn’t concern us’?”

  Catherine inhaled and prepared for the onslaught. “I mean it’s not our problem. Because we’re not going with them.”

  Josh hopped to his feet. Abby sat upright, she and Tamara locking on their mother.

  “What the hell’re you talking about? Of course we’re going,” Josh railed.

  “No, we’re not,” Catherine said sternly. “Now, make sure you all have everything together and stay here. I’m just going to talk to Janet. I’ll be right back.”

  Catherine rose from the cot and took two steps before the wrath that was Josh came unleashed.

  “This is such bullshit!” he yelled. “The whole entire reason for coming ashore—your brilliant idea, I might add—was to come into contact with people who could help. Well, guess what? We found them. They’re right here all around us. And now you want to leave? Un-fucking-believable.”

  Catherine stormed up to Josh, placing her face directly in his. “Let’s get one thing straight. I don’t give a good goddamn if the whole world’s on fire and we’re the last ones alive, I’m your mother and you will respect that. Now, I’m sorry you don’t agree with my decision but this isn’t a democracy. You’re my son and I expect you to honor that. And me.”

  Josh’s glare fell to the floor, his scowl etched firmly on his face. Catherine peeled away from him slowly, burning her stare into him in a purely alpha male—or female—display of dominance. Her eyes flitted over the sea of people bustling about in the vicinity when she spotted Shelby midway across the room. The girl tried valiantly to pretend she had not noticed the altercation between Catherine and Josh, but the discomfort on her face and the forced avoidance of eye contact told the tale. Catherine looked back to her son and realized in that instant where the genesis of his outburst lay. And despite the harsh feelings he had for her at the moment, still couldn’t keep herself from smiling.

  “Stay here,” Catherine said again to her children as she about-faced and jostled her way through the crowd.

  Janet was reviewing a small stack of papers as Catherine approached. And as if sensing her arrival, set the sheets aside and, again, preempted Catherine’s speech.

  “How’re you all coming along?” Janet asked uncomfortably.

  “We’ve got our things together,” Catherine replied. “We’re ready to go.”

  “Good, good.” The tension emanating from Janet was palpable. She shifted uneasily. “Look, Catherine. About what I said...”

  “Forget it. You don’t owe me any apologies. You’re doing the best you can.”

  Janet didn’t know if she should treat this last statement as a compliment or a dig. On any other day she might’ve questioned as to the intent, but found that today she was too busy to give a shit.

  “I just came over here to let you know that we won’t be joining you tonight. We need to be on our way. I have to get home.”

  Janet’s awkward demeanor suddenly evaporated. She straightened in defiance and took a step toward Catherine. “Tell me you’re fucking kidding, Catherine.”

  Catherine swallowed. “I wish I was. Believe me, I’m not thrilled about it either. But I have to see if—”

  “If your husband’s alive. Right. That’s what you said.” Janet’s delivery stung like an accusation, the verbal welt lingering long after she’d spoken.

  “All I’m asking from you,” Catherine continued, “is to just point me in the direction of your fuel supply. You’ll never be able to carry it all and all I’m asking for are a few gallons. Just enough to get me there.”

  “To drive a car to your house,” Janet said.

  “Yes.”

  “To check on your husband.” Janet had used the infamous air-quotations on this last word, but they may as well have been ice picks through Catherine’s self-confidence. “I know you’re not telling me everything, Catherine. You’re hiding something but for the life of me I can’t seem to figure out what or why.”

  Catherine used every facial muscle she could to control the involuntary spasms of deception that hijacked her lower lip.

  “What are you really doing?” Janet continued. “What is it you’re after? Wouldn’t be a key, now, would it? Like the one your daughter mentioned? Now what could you possibly need a key for in this day and age? I wonder.”

  Catherine felt like someone had taken a two-by-four to her chest. Struggling to control her breath and accelerating heart rate, she spoke softly through perspiring lips. “Janet, from the bottom of my heart, I thank you and your people for saving our lives. You’ll never know the gratitude I’ll always carry with me.” Catherine corrected her posture and gained a couple of inches in stature. “But what I do and where I go with my family is none of your goddamned business.”

  Janet’s facial recoil had been exactly what Catherine had envisioned. She may not have guarded killers and convicts in her previous day-to-day existence, but she could be as fierce as a snake when it came to the protection and preservation of her family.

  “Fine, Catherine,” Janet said condescendingly. “Do whatever the hell you want. But hear this: you will in no way jeopardize this evacuation. Do you understand? I’ve got eleven groups going tonight and their safety comes first. After they’re all away you and your children can drive to Timbuktu for all I care. Fuel’s in the auto center across the parking lot. Take what you want.”

  “Thank you,” Catherine said simply. Any other words, she felt, would only exacerbate the situation.

  “It’s fine,” Janet uttered coldly. “Just be ready to leave at ten-thirty. You’ll be in the last group. Once we’re away, you’re on your own. Come any later than that and you’ll be locked in with the remaining residents. After that you’ll have to take up exit strategies with them. We clear?”

  “We’re clear.”

  “See you later tonight,” Janet said indifferently as she turned away and continued her planning.

  Catherine truly wished it didn’t have to be this way. It was contrary to her nature to intentionally deceive and it only made matters worse when the person you were deceiving knew they were being deceived. But this is the way it had to be, hadn’t it? This is what Warren had instilled in her from day one. Trust no one. Look out only for the family. He had explained in great detail the trickle down effect of life-saving knowledge when it was shared and learned under extreme duress. The system could not be sustained, he argued, if everyone became privy to the same set of information. For some to win, some had to lose. It was classic Darwinism.

  Strolling back through the crowd toward her children, Catherine wondered what the difference was between a murderer and one who allowed murder to happen willingly.

  11

  The Great Escape

  The ninth group had gotten away without incident. Janet peered through binoculars and spied the quick double flash of a flashlight, the pre-arranged signal for successful withdrawal.

  “Okay, everyone, get ready,” she said to the members of the tenth group as they clustered near the small, northwestern exit of the mall. Utilized in its heyday primarily by employees, the oft-overlooked entrance was a perfect, unassuming choice to conduct the night maneuvers.

  “And remember, keep talking to a minimum. Just put your heads down, move fast and follow the map. And be alert. The NHs aren’t the only ones we have to contend with out there.” Catherine and Janet exchanged brief but knowing glances.

  “You ready, Dusty?” Janet said to a clean-cut young man with a thick head of hair wrapped into a ponytail who stood at the front of the line.

  “Let’s do it,” he replied, not particularly convincing.

  Janet checked her watch, beeping on a chronometer. “All right, good luck. Go. Go!” she whispered harshly.

  One by one, the penultimate group filed past, food, water and whatever other supplies they could manage strapped to their backs. Janet ushered each per
son out the door with a supportive hand to his or her shoulder. The final member of group ten away, Janet pulled the entrance door closed, peering through a slit on the glass where black paint had been etched away. She turned around to face the members of the last group. Her group.

  “Let’s gear up,” she said stoically.

  The final evacuees shuffled up to the exit. The group consisted of Catherine and her children as well as Janet. Also in line were Shelby and her mother, Madeline, an earthy woman with long, wavy silver and gray hair. They had been assigned to group eleven, due in no small part to Shelby’s pleading and her insistence that she would feel more secure if she could be reassigned with someone she knew. The reasoning had been paper thin. And it had not been lost on either Catherine or Madeline that a certain sort of affection had developed between their children. The request, much to Shelby’s dismay, had turned out to be irrelevant, however, upon discovering Josh and his family had plans of their own.

  Rounding out the list was Alvin, Oliver Stensland, a sturdy man with an unceasing Southern drawl, and Derrik Manson, dressed to the nines in pseudo black ops attire. From his clothing, to his cache of weapons to his elaborately executed face paint, Catherine thought he looked like he could have just stepped off a Guns & Ammo photo shoot.

  Janet peered through the slot. The remnants of group ten were slowly dissolving into the night and out of sight. Once she had the flashlight signal it would be her turn and the beginning of a new, albeit undesired, adventure.

  Catherine turned to her children. She was already clutching Tamara’s hand. “Okay, you guys. This is it. Just stay together. The garage is just across the parking lot.” Her children nodded at her numbly, Josh still frowning as he and Shelby exchanged woeful glances.

  The butterfly dance that was taking place in Catherine’s stomach was so active she thought she might actually vomit from it. Every fiber of her being wanted to remain with Janet and the residents of Bayview if for no other reason than the relative safety and communal atmosphere it provided. But it had also brought peace of mind and relative happiness to her children and losing that, she thought, was the most painful side effect of leaving.