As We Know It

by Carrie Butler

  I frown. “So, how’d he end up here?”

  “You must first understand, he was trying to readjust to more than just civilian life. His body wouldn’t let him lower his guard long enough to relax during the day, and he fought off nightmares every night. The exhaustion wore on him and, after a while, he started—you know—self-medicating.” Naveen widens his eyes for emphasis and tips an imaginary bottle to his lips.

  “So his brother asked him to leave. He didn’t want Vincent stumbling in and out of the house at all hours of the night with his wife and kid there, which I understand, but I still think he could have tried to do more for him. He left his own brother homeless, and God knows the government didn’t do anything to help.”

  “Wait,” I cut in. “Shouldn’t he have benefits?”

  “His got screwed up. By that point, he was tired of fighting to make things right for himself. He said his family used to spend summers in Seaside, so he figured he’d pick up some easy work here and start over. But given his circumstances…”

  I swallow. “Does he… have a problem? I mean, with drinking?”

  Naveen shakes his head. “No, he’s very good at it.”

  I blink, and he grins.

  “I apologize. That is a very bad joke he and I toss around sometimes. It was inappropriate. What I meant to say is he has weaned himself off the dependency, so it doesn’t have that hold on him now, but it has come at a cost. Without the numbness alcohol affords him, he suffers through his PTSD symptoms in a way I can’t imagine. It has left him irritable, more prone to emotional extremes…”

  Okay, world, I get it. Vincent’s going through an existential crisis, and I told him to get screwed by a swordfish. Enough with the heartstrings. “You’re a good friend for understanding.”

  Naveen holds up a dismissive hand. “I’d be a good friend if he took up my offer of a place to stay. Instead, he fends for himself in the forest while I sleep comfortably in my bed each night. It doesn’t seem right. But I digress. He knows so much, because he spends most of his time reading. When he’s not doing side jobs for me or Sarabeth”—I wince—”he’s researching all sorts of things at the library. He says preparedness helps combat the anxiety and occupies his mind.”

  “Wow.”

  “Not quite what you expected, is he?”

  “More.” I lay my head down on the couch cushion, next to where he’s propped up. “So much more…”

  CHAPTER 10

  I must have fallen asleep, because I wake up to something wet on my face.

  It scrubs across my cheek with panting little puffs of warm air. I reach up, half-dazed, to push it off and find my fingers entangled in soft fur. My eyes snap open. “Gizmo?”

  “She was only in the nineteenth yard I searched,” a familiar, masculine voice quips. “Imagine that.”

  “Vincent?”

  I scrub the back of my wrist across my lashes, struggling to focus as I snuggle Gizmo closer. “You… how?”

  He hefts one shoulder, obviously exhausted. “I felt bad about the way things went down, so I hunted down your lost fur ball. The triage workers pointed me here.”

  “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

  “Your life sounds incredibly sad.”

  Fair point. “Still… thank you.”

  Another shrug.

  “Look at us,” Naveen murmurs in the faint light. “We made it. We all survived.”

  Vincent lowers his head. “Yeah. Now we just have to get through the aftershocks, landslides, fires, scarcity, violence…”

  “Oh, is that all?” I ask, shielding my troubled mind with sarcasm. “Maybe we’ll get to meet the other horsemen, too. I hear pestilence is a real hoot.”

  Naveen shakes his head. “Surely that is an exaggeration. It’s not the end of the world.”

  Vincent grunts. “It is as we know it. We’re about to witness a regional collapse like this country has never seen. Infrastructure, transportation, the economy—everything.”

  I squirm as Gizmo nudges my side and tries to squeeze her face into my pocket. Leaning to the left, I pat my jacket and realize she’s after the pack of carrot sticks I grabbed earlier. “Are you hungry?”

  She tickles my ribs, trying even harder to edge the material aside.

  I try to fight the giggle bubbling inside, especially in the midst of this grave conversation, but the dog is too persistent. I laugh and retrieve the baggie for her. “Okay, okay…”

  “I wonder when the last time she ate was,” Naveen muses, having caught on to the side show. “She seems rather eager.”

  Gizmo takes a crisp bite of the carrot’s tip and then turns to gnaw on the rest of it, her little tail wagging all the while.

  “Of all the people in Seaside,” Vincent mutters to himself, “I end up with two squirrel-brains…”

  “Hey!” Naveen turns his attention back to our brooding companion. “My brain is fully functional, thank you very much.”

  His words are barbed, but they’re padded with bromantic affection—especially when he shoves Vincent’s shoulder with his foot. “We are merely concerned with the well-being of another living creature.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  As much as I want Naveen to get the medical care he needs, I can’t stand the thought of him leaving us. The dynamic is so much more comfortable with him around. I guess it doesn’t matter, though. As soon as he’s strapped into that helicopter, Vincent will be out of here. He’s made that much clear.

  So, what am I going to do?

  Gizmo finishes her carrot and whimpers until I give her another. I hold it out absentmindedly, studying the hard outline of Vincent’s face. Despite the dim lighting, his gaze practically glows with intensity as he scans the room. I’ve seen him do that at least a dozen times now. What does he think is going to pop out?

  Naveen clears his throat. “Do we have a plan for here on out?”

  “Your plan is to not die,” Vincent tells him, not bothering to turn around. “Take that bird and don’t look back.”

  “What about you?”

  “Portland.” He sounds tired. “Dom’s a shithead, but he’s family. I gotta make sure Missie and Paige are okay, too.”

  Naveen’s forehead crumples into a dozen lines as I try to decipher who all they’re referring to. “That’s almost two hours away.”

  “By car. The way I figure, it’s going to be at least thirty-two hours of walking, given all the obstacles.”

  “But how will you—?”

  “I’ll shortcut through the forest and pick up 26 after Beerman, right?” Vincent asks, gesturing with his hands. “Then I’ll get off somewhere between Manning and Banks—before the highway turns into a demolition derby—and follow alongside until I hit the city. Sellwood Bridge should have survived.”

  I lost him after Highway 26.

  Naveen sighs. “You make it sound simple.”

  “Not simple. Necessary.”

  “Yes, but…” Another breathy exhale. “I know you’re capable of making it there, but you said yourself how dangerous it is. Why not take Elena with you?”

  They both turn to me, and I freeze, holding the carrot. “Uh…”

  “It’s going to be a rough trip,” Vincent emphasizes, first for Naveen, and then for me. “You’d be better off sticking around with the other evacuees until you can make it back up north.”

  Up north? “How could you possibly guess where I’m from?”

  “Your accent, your clothes, your life view…”

  I open my mouth to argue, but he cracks an uncharacteristic grin. “I checked the registry.”

  “Oh.”

  “Look, I know you’re tough—you’ve made it this far—but like I said, we’re heading in opposite directions. It wouldn’t make sense.”

  I mull the possibility over for a minute, pressing my lips inward. “But you know all about this sort of stuff, right? How long will we be on our own here? Will I even have a house to return to?”

 
; The crease between his brows deepens. “I can’t say for sure.”

  “But you can guess, right?”

  “Just as easily as you can.”

  I draw a deep breath through my nose. “I haven’t ever felt the urge to pore over books and reports on the subject, so do me a favor and cut the shit. There’s no use sparing me now.”

  Vincent glares daggers at Naveen, and then fixes his gaze squarely on me. “You want to know? Fine. Other areas may have to sit tight for a little while but you made the unfortunate decision of visiting the coast this weekend. We’re likely to be without power and gas for weeks, water for longer, and wastewater treatment for… hell, I don’t even know. It’s all interconnected. Power can’t be restored if crews can’t get past broken roads and bridges, but repairs can’t be done without the fuel to get there. Where’s the fuel? Not being distributed along the river’s shipping channels anytime soon. That’s for sure.”

  “So, we’re stuck?”

  He runs his hands back over his hair. “FEMA has a sea-lift operation in the works, but it’s going to take them at least a week for the Third Fleet to get here. In the meantime, relief organizations should start touching down soon, like the Red Cross, but others might have a harder time. I know World Vision is headquartered near Tacoma.”

  I swallow hard. “What about you?”

  “Supplies aren’t going to stretch away from the staging areas. People will get desperate. Thousands of displaced residents and stranded tourists fighting over the same resources. Life west of the corridor is going to get really dangerous, really quick. That’s why I’m telling you to stay here.”

  My stomach churns at the thought of staying here alone, even if I will be in a crowd of people. “But…”

  “I told you, I’m not going to be responsible for your life,” Vincent repeats in a serious tone, leaning in. “I can’t do it.”

  “Excuse me.” A young woman a few feet away from us waves her hand, catching the nearby lantern light. “Did I hear you say we’re going to be stranded here for months?”

  Vincent shakes his head. “I’m sure there’ll be plenty of efforts to move everyone further inland to less damaged areas.”

  “What about Seaside?” a man asks. “Won’t we be able to go back once the water recedes?”

  That earns Naveen and me an I’ll-kill-you-for-bringing-this-up stare, but he still answers. “I would consider the inundation zone uninhabitable—now, and for years to come.”

  “You know what this is, right?” a middle-aged woman chimes in. “Earthquakes in various places? There are more now than ever before, and they’re getting bigger. Birth pangs giving way to the new age. Matthew 24:7 says—”

  “Attribute everything to religion.” The man beside her makes a point of rolling his eyes. “It couldn’t be because we have more sophisticated equipment now.”

  “Maybe if it were the only foretold sign.”

  A woman stands at the end of the room, barely a silhouette. “Neither of you gets it. The earth is angry! Look at how we’ve treated her. Now we must bear the consequences, to suffer as she suffers.”

  Just like that, the room breaks into argument. Every theory under the sun is tossed around, and it’s all I can do to keep up. My head whips back and forth at the sound of riled voices, as if I’m following a ping-pong tournament. Gizmo burrows into my jacket.

  I turn to Vincent, and he’s breathing hard, covering his eyes with his palms. All of this commotion has to be hard on him. I hope it’s not some kind of trigger.

  Naveen tries to straighten. “Everyone, please! This is not the time.”

  When that doesn’t work, I cover Gizmo’s ears and shout, “FIRE!”

  What? Am I going to get arrested in the middle of this?

  Someone screams, and the arguments dissipate like the dust we’ve been breathing all night. I wave my free arm to cease panic. “Wait. False alarm! It was… out the window…”

  Despite the misty rain, more than a dozen fires are blazing over the hill, so it’s not like I’m lying—still, more than a few choice words are tossed in my direction.

  Vincent tilts his head to peer out around his hands at me. “Have you lost your mind?”

  “Quite some time ago,” I inform him, trying to push knee-jerk memories of Mama Jay to the back of my mind. “So don’t worry about being responsible for me. I’m quick on my feet.”

  “What about the dog?” He nods in Gizmo’s direction. “She’ll slow you down.”

  “She’s motivation.”

  “What about Seattle?”

  “What about it?” I ask. “You never answered me.”

  He blows out a deep breath. “Obviously, you guys didn’t stand to take much damage from the tsunami. You’ve got that complex geography acting as a buffer there. But the earthquake’s another story. Most buildings aren’t made for that kind of shaking duration. What’s your place like?”

  Anxiety tightens its band around my chest. “It’s an old house near Green Lake.”

  Vincent doesn’t reply to that. Instead, he mouths something to the ceiling in frustrated defeat.

  After a minute, I finally vocalize the question that’s been on my mind for the past two hours. “I’m homeless, aren’t I?”

  “I could think of worse situations.”

  ¡Ugh, qué estúpida soy! He’s actually homeless, not just displaced or waiting for insurance to kick in. What on earth would possess me to phrase it that way? My cheeks burn.

  “You have family in Seattle?” he asks, unfazed.

  “No. They’re back in Indiana. I moved to Washington for a job.”

  “No pets?” he continues. “Nothing you need to hurry back to?”

  I shake my head. “The only person who even knows I’m here is my best friend.”

  Vincent groans. After several long, agonizing seconds, he squares his shoulders to address me. “All right. Here’s the deal. If you really want to tag along with me to Portland—and I stress, it will be dangerous—I guess I can make sure you get back to Seattle. Somehow. We’ll figure that out later.”

  My eyes widen. “Really?”

  “No, I like to make unnecessarily cruel offers during disasters. It’s a hobby of mine.”

  “That means yes!” Naveen cuts in. “I feel so much better now, knowing you two will be together.”

  “Well, as long as you feel better…” Vincent throws a look over his shoulder.

  “Now I can sleep,” Naveen announces, leaning back as far as his alarmingly numb burns will allow. “I won’t be worrying about you two wandering around on your own.”

  I know when he says “you two,” he really means Vincent, but it’s sweet nonetheless. He brokered this escort for me, and for that, I will be eternally grateful—even if it does put me in harm’s way. I can’t see how it’ll be any worse than staying here. We’re living out a worst-case scenario. No one knows what’s going to happen next.

  But at least I won’t be alone.

  Vincent is right, though. Taking Gizmo along is going to be tough. Already, I’ve grown way too attached to the sweet little fur ball. I can’t imagine risking her life alongside my own, just for the sake of appeasing my own insecurity. What is she going to eat after these carrots are gone? What is she going to drink? Am I going to be able to get past whatever terrain we face with her in my arms? We can’t expect her to walk that far…

  I snuggle her close, and a burning tear traces my cheek. Either way, I can’t bear the thought of her suffering. She’s already lost her human, and now she’s being passed around in unfamiliar places. I press a kiss between her ears, and she tilts her head back to lick my face. My heart melts.

  So help me, if we make it back to Seattle, I am going to be her forever family. There’s no way I can walk away from this bond we’ve inadvertently forged. But until then…

  “Let her go with Naveen,” Vincent says in a low voice. “They’re going to have more resources in Bend, and if he tells them she’s his, someone is bound to look
out for her while he’s being treated.”

  No way. I can’t give her up now. I’m not mentally prepared for us to part ways yet.

  “I will treat her with great care,” Naveen adds, apparently still awake. “Until you come to claim her.”

  My lip quivers, and I fight to keep from caving. I don’t need either of them to see me cry right now. “But…”

  “What if we head to Bend after Portland?” Vincent asks. “There’s no way we’re getting to Seattle on foot, anyway. We’ll need transport, regardless.”

  “Okay,” I agree, the second the band eases around my chest. “Let’s do that.”

  Bark! Gizmo vocalizes her approval, too.

  “You hear that?” I ask her in a whisper, burying my mouth behind her fur. “Uncle Naveen is going to make sure you’re taken care of for a while, and then I’ll come get you.”

  Vincent squints at us. “Are you talking to the dog?”

  “Uncle Vincent is cranky. I think he needs a kiss.”

  His eyes nearly double in size before I get a chance to hold Gizmo out to him. Did he think… ? I cough in way of distraction as she happily licks his face.

  “Okay, okay.” He holds out his hands in surrender, failing to suppress the slightest curve of his lips. “Yeah, okay, thank you. You’re good. Okay…”

  I pull Gizmo back against my chest with a smirk. I knew there was a real person under that brooding, tough-guy mask. No one can resist puppy eyes.

  “Elena?” Naveen mutters, half-asleep now.

  “Yeah?”

  “Take my shoes and socks. Where I’m going, I won’t need them…”

  Oh, God. He makes it sound like he’s dying.

  “The hospitals… always have… footie socks,” he finishes, and I let out a sigh of relief. Actually, that would be a huge help if Vincent and I are going to be walking a lot.

  “Are you sure?”