by Meg Elison
Hot damn. This might work. Maybe I’ll get the hang of this and sail up the coast.
The feeling lasted a few minutes before it became clear that she didn’t know how to sail. She turned a crank experimentally and was excited to see that it raised a sail. It caught the wind and dragged the ship backward. Cursing, she raised another by pulley, and it flapped uselessly, not made fast. She was almost chopped in half by one swinging arm, and she worked, straining, to tie it down to something. She forgot that boats had rudders until she was out in the middle of the bay, drifting without aim. When she found the tiller, she tried to turn it toward the east. That worked until the wind died. She began to seriously consider whether she could swim the rest of the way. The boat passed under the Richmond Bridge, following some current and running parallel to the shoreline. Lost at sea.
She heard the high choppy whine of a motor.
She whipped around to see a little boat coming toward her, running fast with a small outboard motor. There was only one man in it. She tensed all over.
He came alongside. “Hey, where you gonna take that thing?”
She shrugged and pitched her voice as low as she knew how. “Just crossing the bay, man.”
“You could have walked the tunnel. Why get all this going?”
She had thought about walking through the BART tunnel. The idea of getting lost in there was more than she could handle. She looked him over as his boat came under her gaze. He was slight and clean-looking. His hands on the oars were long and slender with elegant fingers. He wasn’t threatening. Not even trying.
“I thought it’d be easy. It’s fine. I’ll work it out.”
“You wanna just climb down and I’ll take you across?”
“I don’t have anything to trade.” If he tried to come aboard, she decided she’d push him overboard. Simple. Let him work that out while she got away.
The smell of salt came off the warmed surface of the water, but the wind cut cold and right through them. She did not want to swim.
“Nah, it’s cool. I haven’t seen anybody in a couple of days. I just miss people.”
After a few seconds of thought, she decided if she had to get rid of him, she might as well be in the better boat. She decided it was too risky to throw her pack, so she came awkwardly down the ladder with it. The boat rocked alarmingly and she sat down fast, trying to keep it steady.
He held out his hand. “Curtis.”
She shook with the best grip she could muster. “Andrew. Where are you headed?”
Curtis sat back and started the motor again, and the small boat resumed skipping toward the shore. “I dunno. Everybody left the city. Downtown is full of dead people. Where is there to go?”
“I’m going south, toward San Diego,” she lied. “I heard it’s not so bad down there, plus there’s nice beaches.”
“Yeah. That sounds pretty good.” Curtis smiled that needy smile.
Harmless.
She turned her face into the wind, and Oakland got bigger and bigger, black and wrecked on the coastline.
“Hey, can we hook north toward the Berkeley marina? Oakland looks like shit from here.”
“Sure.” He turned the boat north. “So, what’d you do? Before.”
Without thinking, she answered the way she always had. “I’m a nurse.”
“No kidding! I didn’t think I’d ever meet a nurse again.”
“Yeah, well. Trauma. I was a field medic in Afghanistan before that.” She came up with that in the white panic of exposure. She was impressed with herself.
“Oh, cool. If you find some people, at least you can tell them you’re useful. I wrote code for Facebook, so once I eat all the baked beans in San Francisco, it’s pretty much over for me.”
She looked at his fake brave face. He was really trying, but underneath he was all terror. “People adapt,” she told him.
“We’ll see if I do. Is that what you’re looking for? People?”
She shrugged. “Not sure I should.”
He sat silent. She took that to mean he couldn’t argue with her.
After a minute, he squeaked it out. “Well . . . well, can I go with you? Two are better than one. I can at least be a lookout and help you find food. I’m good with machines and directions. What do you say?”
Shit. Should have seen that coming.
She had been perfectly and calmly ready to ditch this guy, and yet this question hurt her heart.
She thought about Chicken telling her off. She couldn’t look at him. Sideways, he looked like a little boy trying not to cry.
“I don’t think that would work out. But you’ll find some people. Good luck, ok?”
They were almost to the marina. She strapped her pack back on, and he got close enough to a huge sailboat’s ladder for her to grab on. She climbed up and looked back down at him.
“Ok then. I guess I’ll go back.”
Something gave way inside her. She turned her bag around and reached in for something she could give him since she couldn’t let him follow. “Here.” She tossed down a rubber-banded bundle of antibiotics. “Hold on to that. It might save your life.”
He caught it and looked up. “Hey thanks. Good luck to you, too.”
He took off. She couldn’t explain to herself why she had given it to him. She had to give him something. She thought again of his long, slender hands and his innocent face. He was harmless.
She could have helped him, adopted him, but she couldn’t talk herself into the risk. She hoped he found somebody who would take him on. Save him.
Good luck, man.
She slept in the hold of a boat that had no food but about six kilos of weed. She sniffed its skunky, oily stink and thought about taking some. It might be good to trade, but it’d be a terrible idea to get stoned on her own. When it got dark, she decided she was sick of the smell and got out to walk up to the university. She looked back at the boat, knowing that she wouldn’t return to it. She could set it on fire. She could burn down the whole marina. The night was clear and cool and the thought passed.
She had no flashlight, but there was an almost-full moon. Most of downtown looked intact, and the school seemed to have held out for a long time when everything was falling apart. Dorms stood dark on every side, most with banners hanging out the window with slogans opposing the school closure and quarantine. One banner overhead read “3 Inside Please Help.” She wondered if they were still there, or if help had come. Firelights flickered on an upper floor of an old brick pub, and she crept away from it, around the block. She doubled back and came up to the main entrance of the school and then hooked down the street. The building she was looking for was boarded up, but she picked at the edges of the plywood at one window until she found a way in.
In Berkeley
In the university clinic now. Been here a few days. Pallet of bottled water in here, plus cases and cases of granola bars and dried fruit. Also more birth control than I’ve seen anywhere else.
Stocked up to bursting. Thousands of doses = all set.
June
Actually pulled it off. Wasn’t sure it would ever work, but I did it today.
There were three, two men and a woman. She was young. The midwife saw them coming around one of the old cafés, carrying boxes of cookies. It was broad daylight, and she was prepared, right down to the socks in her underwear. She went out through the roof hatch and drew her gun.
Steady. You’ve got all the advantage. Stay steady. Ready? Talk low. Ready. Steady. Ready.
“Hey!”
They started and one of the men dropped his cookies. They both looked around wildly and froze when they saw her.
“Hey!” she started again, low and gruff. “Didn’t mean to scare you. You interested in trade?”
“Fuck, dude,” said the one with the black ponytail. “Don’t pull a gun if you’re not trying to be scary.”
Maybe not next time. Maybe overcorrecting. Fuck it, I feel better with it showing.
“Just getting your
attention. Trade?”
“Put that thing away and come down.” They weren’t showing any arms. She put the gun in the back of her waistband and climbed down through the hatch. She wiggled out a back window where she couldn’t be seen and came around the front, with her trade-goodie bag and her medkit.
She came around showing her hands.
“My name’s Rob. I’m holding some good stuff.”
“I’m José. This is Mike and Jenna. What do you have?” José had the black ponytail, shiny with some kind of grease. Mike had a buzz cut, and one arm was covered with tattoos.
“Well, I used to be a PA, so I can offer you medical assistance if you need it.”
They looked at each other and back at her. “We’re cool. You got more guns to trade?”
They didn’t have one. “Nope, just mine. Not trading that.”
“Damn. Ok, what else?”
“Liquor. Cigarettes. Candy. Good food. I’m a good raider. What do you want?”
José was quick to step up. “You got cigarettes? I seen no cigarettes anywhere in a long time. I’d kill for one.”
“Regular, menthol, Black and Mild. You name it.”
He licked his lips. “What you want for them?”
She looked down at them from under the bill of her ball cap, trying to look sly. “You know what I want. Is she your girlfriend? Or his?” She switched her gaze from José to Mike, not looking at Jenna.
They both looked at Jenna. She was about seventeen, with long dirty-blond hair grown out dark at the roots. She wore frayed jean shorts on long, tan legs and a loose blousy top. No bra. Her face wasn’t bruised, but she never looked up.
“She’s . . . uh . . .”
“Ok, I don’t care. Point is, is she for sale?”
Mike jumped in this time. He was red haired with a scruffy beard, long ropy muscles, and a lot of tattoos. She sized up his biceps and thought about her own skinny arms. “Yeah, she is. But it’ll cost you.”
She stuffed her hands in her pockets, trying to close up her face while stealing glances at Jenna.
The girl was not fazed by the discussion of her as an object. “Two packs of smokes, your choice. One bottle of the liquor I don’t like.”
I don’t give a shit what they choose. Haggle anyway. Act like it matters. Keep looking at the girl.
José countered. “Four packs of smokes, one bottle each, our choice, and something to eat while you do her.”
“Three packs. Two bottles, your choice. Two cans of pork and beans, and you eat where I can see you.”
They looked at each other, not talking.
“I need half an hour, man. That’s all.”
They turned back to her, grinning. “Ok, but you do it where we can see you.”
She made a face. “No fucking way. I want some privacy. On the roof. You’ll be able to hear us.” Mike turned to José, who was clearly in charge. “What if he shoots her? Or throws her off the roof?”
“Why would I do that? I haven’t seen a girl in months. And you two would figure out a way to kill me, gun or no gun. I’m not crazy. Just looking for trade. How about it?”
She told herself to stay relaxed, not to tense her shoulders or let her voice get high.
A young man is used to getting his way.
José nodded once. “Three packs. Two bottles. Food. Show it to us.”
She slipped the small bag off her shoulder. She showed them the smokes and threw their choices at their feet. They picked one vodka and one whiskey. She set them down gently and lined up two cans of pork and beans beside them.
“Ok?”
“Mike, you got a can opener?”
“Right here, dude. Let’s build a fire.”
José pushed Jenna toward Rob without a word to the girl. “Don’t fuck her up. I know you got a gun, but you were right when you said we’d kill you.”
Rob reached out and put a hand on the back of Jenna’s neck. She told the girl to go around the back of the building. She did, wordlessly obeying.
The young man turned back to them and winked. “Half an hour.”
She turned and ran after the girl. She pushed her through the loose plywood slot and toward the ladder to the roof. Jenna broke through the hatch ahead of Rob and sat down on the white painted tar. Jenna drew her knees up to her chest and wouldn’t look up. Rob dropped down beside her, unbuckling her medkit.
“How old are you?”
She didn’t look up or speak.
“Jenna, we don’t have much time. I’m not gonna fuck you. I’m trying to help. Look at me.”
She wouldn’t.
“Jenna. Jenna, seriously. Please try.”
Nothing.
She picked up Jenna’s hand and held it to her hairless jaw. “Look. See? I won’t hurt you. Get it?”
She didn’t.
She stood up and undid her belt. Jenna tensed all over, but wouldn’t look.
“Look, goddamn it. Look!”
Frustrated, Rob threw the socks at the blonde, and they bounced off her ankles. The girl looked up and saw the boxer briefs, empty in the front. “Look, see?” Rob went to pull the flap open and show her and her breath caught. It was too real, too much like she really was going to fuck her.
Instead, she put her flat hand against her vulva and pulled it up tight. “No dick. Nothing. I’m a woman. See?”
Jenna looked up at Rob’s face and began to cry.
Rob stuffed her socks back in and did up her pants, leaving the belt unbuckled. “Now, tell me. How old are you?”
“Seventeen. I was gonna be eighteen in October.”
“How many times have you been pregnant?”
Her eyes were wide with terror. “Twice. Once when it was just José, and once since Mike.”
“Did you give birth?”
“The last time, yeah. The first one I just bled out and got sick. In the winter. I had the baby like two months ago. He was dead.”
Lucky she’s alive at all. Don’t tell her that.
“Ok. Ok, yeah. I know. Look, I’m gonna give you a shot. It’ll keep you from getting pregnant again for the next couple of months. Then I’m gonna give you some little plastic rings. You put them up inside you. They’re only good for a month, then pull them out. If you get caught with them, say they’re for dryness and you found them somewhere. Ok? Ok, Jenna?”
She was nodding while Rob dug out the Depo shot and sterilized the needle. Jenna cried out when she plunged it in, and down on the street they heard laughing. She stuck a dozen of the tiny plastic rings in Jenna’s jeans pocket.
She held her arm and looked up at Rob. “Have you seen any other girls?”
“Not a lot.”
“Fuck.”
“I can’t get you away. I thought about it, but . . . Look, if you have a chance to get free, cut your hair. Dress like a boy. It doesn’t always work, so—”
“I can leave anytime I want to. There’s worse guys out there than José and Mike. They’re all right.”
“Ok. Sure. Yeah.”
Rob didn’t think their time was up yet. She heated up a can of pork and beans and watched Jenna wolf it down.
“You get to eat?” She cocked an eyebrow at the girl.
“Yeah. Just haven’t had meat in a while. It’s so fucking good.”
She wiped her face, and Rob mussed up her hair. Jenna got the idea and yanked her shirt up a bit. They came down disheveled, and Rob grinned at them while she pushed the girl back into their midst.
“Good trade.”
“He treat you ok, baby?” Mike murmured this into her hair. José stared at them both.
She nodded, looking down.
Rob showed them her hands again. “Like I said, just looking for trade. No harm done.”
They had drunk a little of their booze, but not too much. She watched them pack up with her back leaning against the brick front of the clinic. There wasn’t anything to say in summation. No information to exchange. No reason to say a warm good-bye or thanks. Slowly they
moved off, and she wiggled back into the building.
Barely slept since then. Hate that they know where to find me. Hate that. Hate that. Should have tried to get her away. Sooner or later, though, one of them is going to kill the other to get Jenna alone. Should keep them busy.
Should have saved her. Me, Curtis, Jenna. Running together. Coulda shoulda woulda saved them both. Coward.
Have to move on. Keep moving.
Way he put his hand on the back of her neck. Way he smelled her while looking at me. Disregard, control. Shrug up a little, make shoulders bigger. Pluck at crotch of my jeans. Hard eye contact. Remember. Practice in front of a mirror. Find a mirror.
July
Hot as shit here. Somewhere near Sacramento, though I haven’t gone into the capital. Heard gunshots from that direction, and it’s lit up at night. No way. Nope, nope, nope.
July
Little urgent care that’s been almost completely cleaned out. Somebody spray painted “No Supplies” out front—thanks. Exit in back, and it’s in a strip mall. Raiding here sucks. Convenience food mostly. All the jerky was gone when I got here. So sick of chips I could die. So salty all the time.
Started to head for the 5 freeway but 1: sure there are people on it, 2: there’s no water and no food along it hardly at all. Remember driving before, and even in an air-conditioned car it seemed like a wasteland. Just gas stations and nothing. Roads east lead into the Nevada desert. No way, not doing that this time of year. Hook north through Oregon and then Idaho, but it’s all mountain passes. Take me forever, especially the back roads. No good plan.
Where the fuck am I going?
August
Haven’t seen hardly anyone since Jenna. Haven’t heard voices, but some very distant sounds of others. Garbage along the road and old fires. That’s it. Nobody, no bodies.
