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The Remnants of Yesterday

Page 2

by Anthony M. Strong

“Strange.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Maybe Walter abducted her.”

  “I think that might be a little far-fetched.”

  “It would explain both of them coming up missing. Trust me, Walter’s a creep, I can just see him pulling a stunt like that.”

  “And what about us? Did he drug us both first?”

  “Good point.” She conceded. “I still think he’d do it though, given half a chance.”

  A thought occurred to me. “Do you have a cell phone?”

  “Of course.” She nodded. “In my bag. Walter won’t let us carry phones on company time.”

  “Can you get it?”

  “Hang on.” Clara put her water down and scurried toward a door marked PRIVATE. She took a key from her pocket, unlocked it, and stepped inside. Alone again, I suddenly felt vulnerable. I breathed a sigh of relief when she returned moments later clutching a small brown shoulder purse.

  “Take it out.”

  “Alright. Give me a chance.” She dumped the purse onto the counter and unzipped it, rummaging inside for a moment before bringing out a sleek silver IPhone. “What now? Should I try and call someone?”

  “Turn it on.”

  “Alright.” She pressed the button on the top to wake the phone up, and then her brow furrowed. “Odd. It was fully charged two hours ago when I got to work. There’s no way it should have gone dead this quick.”

  “Give it to me.” I practically snatched the device from her hand and turned it over, examining it. There was no doubt about it. Just like every other item with a battery, the phone did not work.

  “We could plug it in to a charger,” Clara said.

  “Did you bring yours with you?”

  “No. But we don’t need it.” She took off again, stopping in front of a rack near the back of the store. She searched for a moment then grabbed something before rushing back to the counter. She held the object up. “Replacement charger. All gas stations carry these things.”

  “You’re a genius.” I would have kissed her, except she might have taken it the wrong way. “Do the honors?”

  “Absolutely.” She reached behind the counter and picked up a pair of scissors, slicing into the shrink wrap and freeing the charger, then plugged it in and pushed the cord end into the bottom of the phone. “It’ll take a few moments before we can turn it on.”

  We waited, watching the screen in silent anticipation. Several seconds passed, then a few more. All at once the screen lit up.

  “It’s working,” Clara said.

  The screen changed from a battery symbol to a picture of Clara with her arms around a large dog, a Golden Retriever.

  “Nice dog. Yours?”

  “My parents.”

  “Oh.” I was about to make a comment about my own childhood dog, but then realized there were more important things than idle chatter. “Try and call someone.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know. Does it matter?”

  “How about my roommate Shelly.”

  “Fine.” I didn’t really care who she called. I just wanted to see if she could actually get through to someone.

  She pulled up the address book and selected a number, and then hit dial. “I’ll put it on speaker.”

  “Good idea.”

  She placed the phone back on the counter and we waited for the call to connect, our eyes fixed on the screen.

  There were a few moments silence, and then a droning beep filled the air. The call hadn’t connected.

  “Shall I try again?” Clara reached out to pick up the phone.

  “Don’t bother.” My eyes strayed to the icons across the top of the screen, to the place where there should be four stepped bars indicating a signal. Instead two words jumped out at me.

  No Service.

  4

  “WHAT NOW?” CLARA PULLED on her bottom lip with her teeth.

  “I don’t know.”

  “None of this makes any sense.” For a moment she looked like she was about to cry, but then she pulled herself together. “We haven’t tried my car. Maybe it will start.”

  “How much do you want to bet?”

  “Not much.” She narrowed her eyes. “No one else has come in since…” she trailed off as if mentioning what had happened somehow gave it more power.

  “Someone should have stopped for gas by now, what with the Interstate right down the road.” This had occurred to me before, but I chose to ignore it. Now, with so much time passing, it was getting more and more unlikely that we wouldn’t have run into another motorist. Whatever happened must have affected a much bigger area that just the gas station.

  “It’s never this quiet,” Clara said. “If other people blacked out like we did, and they were driving…”

  “Then the Interstate is going to be a mess.”

  “We should have heard sirens though. There should be some response to something like that.”

  “Right.” I hadn’t thought of that. Any time there was a pile up it drew all sorts of emergency services. By now there should be medevac and news helicopters flying overhead, ambulances, fire trucks screaming down the road. There was nothing. It was quiet as the grave outside. “We could hike to the highway. There might be other people there.”

  “Are you kidding me? It’s over a mile away, and there are no streetlamps on this road. It’ll be pitch black. Besides, I don’t want to go out there right now. We’re better off staying where we are. Someone will find us eventually, a cop or something.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that, but I didn’t voice my concern. “We’ll stay here and wait then.”

  “Good.” Clara looked relieved. “I’m getting hungry. Do you want something to eat?”

  I looked around the store. “Sure. Do you have anything that isn’t chips and candy?”

  “There are some prepackaged sandwiches in one of the coolers. I think there are some donuts left too.”

  “A sandwich is fine.” I’d planned to stop further down the road for a bite to eat. “Ham if you have it.”

  “I think we can manage that,” she said, making her way to the back of the store and opening one of the large coolers. Moments later she returned with a couple of sandwiches and two small tubs of ice cream. She handed one sandwich to me and kept the other one, then offered me a carton of ice cream. “I brought us dessert too.”

  “Thanks.” I took the ice cream.

  “Great. Let’s eat.” She hopped up onto the counter and pulled the wrapper off the sandwich. “Why don’t you sit down?” She patted the counter top, inviting me to join her.

  “I think I’ll stand.”

  “Suit yourself.” She bit into her sandwich, chewing for a moment before speaking again. “So what do you think is going on?”

  “I don’t know.” My mind turned briefly to Jeff in New York. I hoped that whatever was happening here was not also happening there, and that he was safe.

  “Maybe it’s terrorists.” She ate the last of her sandwich and popped the top off the ice cream, digging in with a plastic spoon.

  “I don’t think so.” Everyone always thought of terrorism first whenever anything bad happened. I guess it was a sign of the times. “How could terrorists drain our batteries?”

  “It could be an EMP.”

  “A what?”

  “Electro magnetic pulse. They fry circuitry so that things stop working. I read that nuclear explosions can do that.” Her bottom lip trembled. “You don’t think it was a nuclear strike do you?”

  “I think that might be jumping to conclusions.” If it was a missile, New York would be an obvious target and we were less than four hours away. Would an EMP travel that far? I pushed the thought from my mind, ignoring the knot of dread that roiled in the pit of my stomach. Instead I chose to rely on reason, even if it might be flawed. “There was no explosion, no mushroom cloud. We would have heard something. Besides, your phone came back on.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “If something damaged the
circuitry it wouldn’t have turned back on. It was just a dead battery.”

  “Maybe.” Clara didn’t look convinced.

  “Besides, a bomb wouldn’t make us pass out.”

  “Or make people disappear.” Clara seemed to perk up a bit, but then her face fell. “So we’re back to square one. We still don’t know what is going on, and we still can’t contact anyone, or get out of here.”

  “Maybe we can.” A thought occurred to me. “If the cell battery just needed charging…”

  “Then maybe the car battery is the same.” She finished my sentence, a look of hope crossing her face. “That means we can get out of here.”

  “Right.” There was just one problem. “Do you have a car charger?”

  “Maybe.” She hopped off the counter and proceeded to search the shelves.

  “Find anything?”

  “Not yet.” She shook her head, and then changed her mind. “Wait, how about this.” She held up a set of jumper cables.

  “No good.” My heart sank. “We don’t have another car to use as a jump. We need an actual charger we can plug into a wall socket.”

  “Sorry. There’s nothing like that.”

  “Damn.” This was getting frustrating. For a moment I’d actually harbored hope of getting out of here. “I’m fresh out of ideas.”

  “I might have one in the trunk of my car.”

  “What?” Why had she not mentioned this earlier? “Really?”

  “My dad put a bunch of crap in there before I left for college. He said it was an emergency pack. There’s a gas can, flashlight, and I think he put a charger in too.”

  “If that’s true, I could kiss your father.”

  “I don’t think he’d like that very much,” Clara said, smiling for the first time since everything went to hell. “My car is parked out back. I can go get it now if you want.”

  “So what are you waiting for? Go get it.”

  “Ok.” She rummaged in her purse and came out with a set of car keys. “Back in a moment.”

  Then she was gone.

  5

  SEVERAL MINUTES PASSED and Clara had not returned. I glanced toward the rear door through which she’d exited, expecting it to open at any moment.

  As the seconds ticked away I wondered if I should have gone with her, after all, we had no idea what was going on. She should be back by now, even if she had to search her trunk for the charger. I took a step toward the door, intent upon finding her.

  The scream was sudden. Shrill.

  I jolted, then took off at a run toward the door, slamming it open and half falling out into the cool night.

  It was dark behind the gas station, the only light coming from a security lamp with one working bulb. The other bulb was dead. I looked around, frantic. There was a car parked next to the back fence, near a row of dumpsters. The trunk was open, but there was no sign of Clara.

  I stepped toward the car and walked around it, afraid of what I might find, nervous that Clara might be laying there, really dead this time. That thought terrified me. I scolded myself for not accompanying her outside. Whatever was I thinking? I glanced between the car and the fence, but the space was empty.

  A second scream carried on the breeze. This time I was able to determine that it came from a narrow alley on the side of the building.

  I raced toward the sound, rounding the corner in time to witness Clara being dragged backward into the darkness by a dark shape. She struggled and kicked, but could not break free.

  “Hey,” I shouted.

  The shape paused and turned toward me. I recognized the face in an instant.

  Walter.

  “Leave her alone.” I took off at a sprint, lowering my shoulder as I drew close. At the last moment I stepped around Clara and shot my arm out, clipping Walter under the chin, sending him spiraling backward. He let out a strangled gurgle and let go of Clara, who teetered for a moment before regaining her balance.

  “Come on.” I reached out and grabbed her arm, steering her away from Walter, all the while keeping him in my line of vision.

  He watched us, his mouth opening and closing as if he were trying to say something, but only guttural grunts escaped his lips. He jerked his head from side to side and brought his hands up, slapping at his face and skull, his fingers curling into his thinning hair and pulling on it. Just when I thought we might escape, Walter hunkered down and charged.

  “Run.” I pushed Clara back toward the rear of the convenience store and followed, all too aware of the maniac bearing down upon us. We reached the end of the alley. Clara turned the corner and made a dash for the rear door of the convenience store, but just as I was about to do the same Walter caught up with me.

  He hit me in the back, sending me staggering forward as his arms snaked around my waist. I twisted, attempting to pry myself free, but he was deceptively strong. Finally, as a last resort, I brought my arm back, ramming my elbow into his face. His nose splintered and hot blood sprayed my neck. He let out a high-pitched squeal and slackened his grip long enough for me to pull away and turn to face him.

  Walter was a mess. Blood poured from his ruined nose, trickling down his chin and onto his shirt. A mix of spittle and some kind of brown mush that looked suspiciously like dirt, fell from his mouth as he spewed a tirade of guttural grunts that bore little resemblance to speech. Judging from the brown stains on his hands I came to the conclusion that he had, at some point prior to attacking Clara, actually been eating dirt.

  I scanned the area for anything to use for a weapon. My eyes alighted on a stack of propane canisters next to the dumpster. Not perfect, but they would do.

  “What are you doing?” Clara lingered next to the door. “Get in here.”

  “Give me a moment.” Walter was eyeing me the way a person might look at a fat juicy steak.

  “Don’t be stupid.” Clara was frantic.

  “Hang on.” I backed up, edging toward the cylinders.

  Walter watched me for a moment, seemingly oblivious to the blood that was still flowing from his nose, and then he took a step forward.

  I could guess what was about to happen, and Walter did not disappoint. I ducked sideways at the same time he charged. The canisters were not far away. I reached them and snatched one up, grateful that they were empty, just as I suspected. If they had been full, there was no way I would have been able to hoist one, and my plan would have been ruined.

  Walter closed the distance between us with astonishing speed considering his girth and age. He lowered his head, intent upon ramming me. When he was less than two feet away, I swung the canister as hard and high as I could.

  Walter ran right into it.

  My aim was not great. As a means of self-defense, a propane tank is not the most graceful of instruments. Luckily my assailant was either too mad or too stupid to bother ducking. The canister bounced off his skull with a hollow thud. Walter’s head snapped to the side. He performed a perfect pirouette, and then his legs collapsed under him. The impact sent a wave of jarring pain up my arm and I lost my grip on the tank, which fell to the ground and rolled away, finally coming to rest near the back wall of the convenience store.

  Walter was down.

  I waited a moment, watching, expecting him to spring back up unharmed like one of those screen monsters in a slasher movie, but thankfully he didn’t move.

  “Is he dead?” Clara still waited by the door.

  “I don’t think so.” I thought I detected the faint rise and fall of his chest.

  “Shame.” Clara edged closer, keeping her eyes on Walter. A tear rolled down her cheek. “I thought he was going to kill me, or worse.”

  “You’re safe now.”

  “He came out of nowhere. I wasn’t paying attention.” She wiped the tear away. “Stupid.”

  “Not at all.” I eyed Walter. He was still down. “Did you find a charger?”

  “Yes.” She glanced toward the car.

  “Good. Maybe we can get out of here in the morning.”


  “I don’t want to wait that long.” Clara looked dismayed. “Can’t we leave now?”

  “It’ll take a while to charge the battery.”

  “Just great.” She looked down at Walter. “So what do we do with him?”

  “We tie him up, and then we lock ourselves inside until dawn.”

  6

  “THAT SHOULD DO IT.” I pulled on the nylon rope, making sure there was no give. Walter was still out cold, but he wouldn’t stay that way forever, and I didn’t want to take any chances.

  “Will that hold him?” Clara asked.

  “Four years in Boy Scouts says it should.” I had spent the last fifteen minutes heaving Walter from the back of the gas station, around to the front, and propping him in a sitting position against one of the pumps, where I proceeded to wrap several loops of cord around his torso. Clara followed behind, gripping a tire iron from her trunk lest Walter decide to awake from his slumber and have another go at us, which thankfully he did not.

  “The Boy Scouts?” Clara said. “That’s what we’re relying on here?”

  “Hey, don’t knock the Scouts, they taught me many useful things. Besides, we’ll keep an eye on him, just to be on the safe side.” I had deliberately chosen the nearest pump so that we could see our prisoner through the window. I would have preferred not to be in such close proximity, but I also felt safer knowing where he was.

  “I don’t feel safe out here.” Clara eyed the darkness beyond the gas station forecourt.

  “We just need to put the battery on charge, then we can go back inside.” I shared her concern. There might be other people out there like Walter – crazy people – affected by whatever cataclysm had befallen us, and I had no desire to meet them.

  “Hurry. Please?”

  “Keep a look out.” While I was working on Walter, Clara had found an extension cable in the stock room and plugged it in to an exterior power socket. I picked up the charger and connected it, then popped the hood of my car.

  “Will this take long?” She was holding the tire iron so tight her knuckles turned white.

 

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