The Chaos Function

by Jack Skillingstead

  “Thanks. We’ll push it.”

  “Good on you. My work here is done. Hate to see folks in trouble. I almost drove on by, then asked myself: Would you have stopped before the shit hit the fan? Answer was a straight-up yes, ma’am.”

  She turned and took hold of the grab bar to haul herself back up to the cab.

  “Wait.” Olivia stepped closer. “Have you heard anything? On the CB. I mean, if trucks still have CBs.”

  Astina let go of the grab bar. “You wouldn’t believe how many people ask if we still use citizens band radios. And they ask it like they’re asking their grandfather if he still has a rotary dial phone.” She grinned. “Sure, it’s ancient technology, but it’s reliable and has its advantages. My cab’s loaded with the latest electronics, computers, GPS, all that. And since yesterday it’s all about as useful as two tin cans with a piece of string between them. CB’s got a short range, but it’s unaffected by the bombed communication infrastructure. So, yeah, I’ve heard stuff, even stuff from far off and out of range. You ever see that Lord of the Rings movie? That part where they light the fires as a relay signal? Each fire, you can only see it from a short distance. But as a relay, the signal gets all the way across Middle-earth.”

  This truck driver really liked to talk.

  “What’s the news?” Olivia asked.

  Like a dimmer switch dialing the light down, Astina became at least as glum as Olivia felt. “The news is bad. They hit us on both coasts and kicked us in the bread basket, took out a bunch of our silos before we got any missiles off. Don’t know about the subs and bombers.”

  “Who’s ‘they’?”

  “That one’s up for grabs. First hit was probably North Korea. What some people think is the Russians saw a chance and jumped on it, since the whole world was turning on them about the smallpox. Or maybe a coordinated attack, China and Russia. Course, they’ll turn on each other next, if they haven’t already. I don’t know. It’s all confused and not going to get any sharper in the near future, or any other future, I guess. There’s millions dead in the US. Millions and millions, and going to be more from the radiation. Nobody’s got an answer for the smallpox, either. Remember only a week ago, that was the worst thing in forever?”

  “I remember.”

  “I guess it was just the fuse.”

  “Is the government doing anything? What about—”

  “I don’t know. Maybe there isn’t any government anymore. You know, I’m not picking up CNN on the CB. It’s just guys talking, telling each other what they’ve heard. Gossip, mostly. Once in a while you get word from someone in a zone where a piece of the internet is still functional, or they say it is. But you know what, it’s mostly guys babbling about the End Times and reading Bible verses, or cursing out the Muslims. You get that? Who ever said the Muslims had anything to do with this mess? Anyway, I got to go.”

  “Wait. What about India and Pakistan? Have you heard anything?”

  “Nope.”

  “Do you think it’s the End Times?”

  “Sure. But not like it’s in the Bible. That’s horseshit. If it is the end, it’s because we made it that way. Us humans, not God. That’s how everything is, and that’s what people always do. Blame somebody else, and when they run out of somebody elses, they blame God. Which is like blaming Santa Claus for the crummy present your uncle gave you.”

  Astina hauled herself up and into the cab and pulled the door shut. Olivia turned back to the Ford. Astina rolled down the window and stuck her head out.

  “Hey.”

  Olivia looked back.

  “Don’t hang around Clewson. Get in and get the hell out as fast as you can. The thing about the End Times is there’s a lot of people who think that means it’s okay to do all the bad shit they never hardly thought about doing before. I’ve seen some of what they do, and this mess just started.”

  “Are you stopping in Clewson?”

  “Long enough to unload at the superstore, like I was gonna do anyway before the bugs and bombs started flying. Finish my job. After that, I’m heading to Portland.”

  “Good luck.”

  “You too.”

  Twenty-Six

  They pushed the Ford up the shallow grade—Alvaro, Dee, and Brian putting their backs into it while Olivia steered. The Walmart truck growled past them, up and over the hill, Astina giving them a short, encouraging blast of the air horn. They crested the hill, everyone piled back in, and they coasted down into Clewson, running out of forward momentum just a few yards short of an Exxon station. They got out to push it up to the pump. The door of the mini-mart opened and a thickly bearded guy in a red T-shirt marched toward them waving his hands.

  “No gas, sorry. Power’s out and my generator just ran dry.  Those pumps is dead.”

  “Whose pumps aren’t dead?” Alvaro said.

  “Power’s out all over town, so I don’t know. Depends on who’s got a working generator. That guy don’t.” He pointed at a 7-Eleven across the street.  “You go to the other side of town, could be the Conoco is running. But like I said, I don’t know. Phones don’t work neither, so you can’t call and find out. Phones quitting—that’s bad, ain’t it? How do they make the cell phones quit? What I can do is if you’re willing to leave a twenty-dollar deposit, I can loan you a gallon can. You find a working pump somewhere, come back with the gas and you’re in business.”

  “It’s a plan.” Brian looked at the others. “Do we all go?”

  “Miss?” The Exxon guy was looking at Olivia. “You look under the weather.”

  “I’m all right.”

  “You want, you can sit down inside while your friends go on a gas hunt. I got one of those battery-operated fans and some water bottles on ice that ain’t all melted yet.”

  “Your head,” Alvaro said to Olivia. “How’s your head?”

  “Bad.”

  “How bad?”

  “I need more time,” Olivia said.

  “I think we’re running out of that.”

  Exxon looked from Olivia to Alvaro and back, worked his lips like he was chewing something he wished he wasn’t. “Anyway, I’ll get that can. You can push your car over there next to the building.” He turned and walked back to the store.

  Olivia felt shaky.  When the car was parked, she hugged the steering wheel and closed her eyes.

  “I’ll stay with Olivia,” Dee said. “You two go.”

  A deep rumble came out of the sky. God’s stone wheels grinding it out. Grinding it out exceedingly fine.

  Olivia lifted her head. Everyone looked east. The attendant appeared, a red gas can in his fist. He stopped in midstride, looking east like everyone else.

  The rumble subsided. It might have been a distant thunderstorm.

  The Exxon guy approached them. He looked distracted in the way people get after they’ve received a cancer diagnosis.

  “Twenty dollars.”

  “She and I are staying,” Dee said. “If you could spare us some of that cold water.”

  “It ain’t exactly cold at this point, but sure.”

  Alvaro said, “How do we find that Conoco station?”

  Exxon focused on him. “Basically, walk straight down Harrison. You come to the Walmart, you know you’re almost there.”

  “Thanks.” Brian produced his wallet and handed the man a twenty-dollar bill, then he walked over to Olivia. “You going to be okay?”

  “I’m good. Be careful yourself.”

  Brian looked like he didn’t want to leave—or like he wanted to leave but for a different destination. He scuffed his shoe on the asphalt.

  “Bri?”

  “I’m worried about my parents. They’re not that young, and my mom’s got diabetes. Her legs are screwed up. I should be there.”

  “They’re probably all right for now.”

  “Very optimistic. What are you basing that on?”

  “Nothing.”

  Alvaro said, “Let’s get going already.”

  Brian gl
anced back at him. “The boss is calling.”

  “I thought I was your boss.” She grinned, trying to lighten the mood.

  “You are. Absolutely.”

  He hugged her. Olivia patted his back. “Bri, really be careful.”

  “I will.”

  She watched him and Alvaro walk away down Harrison Avenue, the red gas can swinging in Alvaro’s hand.

  Exxon shook his head. “God damn everything that’s going on.” He turned to Dee and Olivia. “This way, ladies. My name’s Chuck, by the way.”

  He led them into the store and behind the counter to the break room, a cubby space with a couple of chairs, a card table, and a few stacks of cardboard boxes printed with logos like LAYS and HOSTESS. Anemic daylight straggled through the dirty skylight. Chuck switched on the battery-operated fan perched on top of a box and aimed it at Olivia. The blades pushed the stultifying air around to not much effect. Chuck fished out a couple of plastic water bottles bobbing in a bucket of water and handed them, dripping, to Olivia and Dee.

  “On the house.”

  Olivia accepted her water bottle. “Thank you. Do you have aspirin?”

  “I do. Hold on.”

  He left and came back with a bottle of Bayer aspirin still sealed in its box. “Seven ninety-five.”

  Olivia couldn’t tell if he really wanted the money. She decided it was best to err on the side of a normal transaction and handed him a ten-dollar bill.

  “I’ll get your change.”

  They twisted the caps off the water bottles. Dee said, “Tell me.”

  Olivia blinked. “Tell you what?”

  “Your head. It’s better now. Isn’t it.” Not a question.

  “Yes.”

  Dee held her eyes. “You could go in. You could link.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Okay.” Dee brought the water bottle to her mouth and tilted her head back, drank a third of the water and wiped her lips.

  “Not cold,” she said.

  Olivia opened the Bayer and shook three tablets into her hand. She popped them in her mouth and chased them down with the not-cold water. Chuck brought her change and left them alone, pausing only to say, “I’ll keep an eye out for your men.”

  Olivia used her sleeve to blot sweat off her forehead. “It’s hotter in here than it is outside.”

  Dee was quiet. After a few minutes she said, “What’s funny is I thought if only a woman were given a chance, she could use the probability machine to improve the world, maybe improve it a lot. Like stop people from starving, make different probabilities with better outcomes. You know, not just save us from the big crisis points. Make the world work.”

  “It doesn’t have anything to do with being a woman.”

  “Yeah, I know. I just hoped with a woman it might be different. Instead, it’s no better. It’s kind of depressing.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Listen,” Dee said. “You really have to do it this time. I know it’s terrible, but you have to do it. Let Jacob’s probability choice take over.”

  “I know.”

  “It’s bigger than you and Brian.”

  “I know.”

  A sound like firecrackers came through the propped-open skylight. And in that moment, Olivia felt cold and hot at the same time, frightened for Brian. The same as when she’d waited for him and Jodee at Habib’s Café in Aleppo and heard the ominous crack of sniper fire and knew her friends might be targets.

  “That’s gunfire,” Dee said.

  “Yes.”

  Outside, Chuck stood in the shade with his hands on his hips. “Somebody’s shooting.”

  “We heard it.”

  “This ain’t Chicago. But things start coming apart when the glue dissolves.”

  Olivia walked away from the store.

  Dee caught up. “Where are you going?”

  “To find Brian.”

  Chuck called after them: “You ladies should stay here. It’s safer. Your men will be back soon. Just my opinion.”

  Olivia kept walking, and Dee stayed with her. The shooting stopped. No police sirens wound up. The streets remained disturbingly quiet. A big kid on a bicycle pedaled out of an alley and came toward them. Not a kid—a man, easily past thirty.

  She waved at him. “Hey, excuse me.”

  He coasted up to them and stopped, planting his feet flat on the ground, straddling the kid-sized bike.

  “Do you know what that shooting was about?” Olivia asked.

  “Guy climbed onto the roof of the Rite Aid and started firing. Who knows why? Everything’s fucked up.”

  Dee said, “Anybody hit?”

  “Don’t think he was shooting at anybody. Just shooting. Took out some car windows is all. But I wouldn’t go that way if I were you.”

  He stood on the pedals and rode off.

  Olivia started walking again, determined. Inaction—waiting—it killed her. She did so much of it in the Disaster. Waiting for word on whether someone she knew was dead or wounded. Waiting for the shooting to stop, or to start. Waiting for a cease-fire, a new offensive, the sound of helicopters, the word from a source on where to find an insurgency leader to be interviewed. Waiting.

  Olivia was done waiting.

  They came to the Walmart. Astina’s blue-and-white semi, or one exactly like it, idled at the side of the building. No, it was Astina’s all right. She stepped into view holding a clipboard, talking to a guy in a skinny black tie and white shirt. Astina’s long black braid was unmistakable.

  Two more gunshots popped off.

  Olivia turned in the direction of the shots. A man came running down Harrison Street. It was Brian. He saw them and veered over, arriving out of breath.

  “Bri.”

  “I’m okay.  There’s a guy shooting.”

  Dee said, “Where’s Alvaro?”

  “I don’t know. The shooter, he didn’t seem to be aiming at people. And then he was. A bullet chipped off the street right in front of us. A little piece of concrete jumped up and nicked Alvaro under the eye. We both took off running in different directions.”

  Brian was having trouble catching his breath.

  “Shit.” Dee looked like she needed to fight something right now. “I have to find him. We’ll meet you two back at the Exxon station. Be there.”

  “Stay off the main street,” Brian said. “Go around.”

  Dee took off running. Brian shook his head. “Christ, this is just like—”

  Olivia pulled his arm. “Come on.”

  “What?”

  “Come on. If you want to see your parents, we need to ditch Dee and Alvaro.”

  They reached Astina right when the guy in the white shirt turned and walked away. Astina looked pissed off.

  “Astina,” Olivia said.

  “Hey.  You guys still hanging around?”

  “With the power out, nobody can pump gas.”

  “Sucks, right?”

  “What about you? That guy didn’t look happy.”

  “Yeah. Store manager won’t take delivery. Says he doesn’t have the staff to unload the truck. Is that my problem? Wants me to hang around town, see if anybody shows up for work. That isn’t happening.”

  “There’s somebody taking potshots from the roof of the Rite Aid.”

  “Yeah, I heard it. Doesn’t surprise me.”

  “You got enough fuel to make Portland?”

  “Sure.”

  Olivia looked back down the street. Dee and Alvaro could show up at any moment.

  “Trouble?” Astina said.

  “We need a ride to Portland.”

  Astina shook her head. “Against the rules to carry passengers. Besides, I couldn’t fit four in the cab.”

  “Two, not four.”

  “Still against the rules. What’s he shaking his head about?” She nodded at Brian.

  “He thinks it’s funny you’re worried about Walmart rules, considering what’s going on.”

  Astina shrugged. “Rules are rul
es. Besides, it’s Teamsters, not Walmart.”

  “How far is Portland?” Brian asked.

  “Nine, ten hours.”

  “That’s under normal circumstances, right?”

  “We could help you,” Olivia said. “You don’t know what you’re going to run into on the road.”

  Astina pulled on the end of her nose. She didn’t look convinced.

  “I—” Brian started to say something but stopped.

  Astina waited.

  “Look,” Brian said. “I want to see my mom and dad one more time. They live in Portland, where you said you were going anyway. If you don’t take us, I’ll never see them again. I know I won’t. Please.”

  Astina sighed heavily. “You guys don’t play fair.” She looked at the lowering sky. “You can’t get in right here. I don’t want that manager to see. Yeah, I know it probably doesn’t matter anymore. All I can say is rules matter to me. Go a block back the way you came and cut over another block west. We’re pulling out of here the back way. I don’t want to give that prick with the rifle a big target.”

  “Thank you,” Olivia said.

  “Really,” Brian said.

  “Don’t thank me. You said it yourself: We don’t know what we’re going to run into between here and there. Maybe you’ll wish you stayed in Clewson.”

  Half running to get off Harrison Street before Alvaro and Dee turned up, Olivia faltered and Brian took her arm to keep her on her feet.

  “You all right?”

  “A little dizzy.”

  A few minutes later, waiting for Astina, Olivia said, “That thing about your mom and dad. You know it’s not the last time, right? Back there I just meant Dee and Alvaro would drag us to Sanctuary.”

  He held his hand up. “Can we not talk about this anymore?”

  “Bri. You don’t even believe it.”

  “Liv, I know what you have to do. I just want to get home first, okay?”