by Justin Bell
***
Rhonda paced back and forth by the RV having an impossible time standing still. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she drew in deep, uncomfortable breaths, halting every few moments to glance out east, then west, before sighing and continuing her monotonous pace.
“Take it easy, Rhonda,” Greer said. “They’re big kids, all of them. They know how to handle themselves.”
“I think Max is a little too eager to try to handle himself,” she replied.
“Brad will keep him grounded.”
“And Phil is looking after Winnie, right? They’ll be okay,” Angel piped in.
Rhonda scarcely paid attention. “I never should have let them go. This world is too unpredictable now. There’s too much that could go wrong. Too much that has already gone wrong.”
“Jeez, Mom, chill out, would you?” Max said, coming up the grass covered hill and around the front of the RV. “We’re fine, okay? No problems at all, right, Brad?”
Brad’s eyes darted left. “Right. No problems.”
“Bull,” Rhonda barked. “Bradley, I’m sorry, but you’re a terrible liar. What happened?”
Max chuckled. “Just some crazed dude, okay? Thought we were a couple of defenseless kids, we showed him we weren’t, he took off with his tail between his legs. No big deal.”
Rhonda glowered at her son but didn’t ask for any elaboration. “Why don’t you go into the RV. Sit down and rest. You’re limping, sweetheart.” She took a step towards him and bent to his level, placing her hands on his arms. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Mom, I’m fine,” Max replied.
Rhonda turned towards Brad, staying down in a crouch. “Bradley? Are you all right, honey? You’re not scared, are you?”
He shook his head. “I’m not scared. We’re both fine, Mrs. Fraser. Please don’t worry.” His voice was flat and artificial, almost as if his response was pre-recorded. In fact, his entire mannerism had been as bland as a slab of pine wood, and Rhonda couldn’t help but wonder just how deep the trauma of his parents being killed right in front of him, had gone. Rhonda looked at the boy, noticing his shift back to calling her ‘Mrs. Fraser.’ She opened her mouth for a minute to correct him, but shut it again, realizing that in his current state, putting him outside his comfort zone wasn’t going to do anyone any good.
And would there be any coming back?
“All right, hon,” she said. “Go with Max, back in the RV. Rest.”
They both nodded reluctantly but climbed the stairs back into the camper and disappeared inside.
“Was that Max?” Phil’s voice echoed in the dark and Rhonda turned. To her surprise, three silhouettes approached, not just two.
“Yes, it was. He and Brad are fine,” she said. Her hand drifted to the small of her back as she saw the third person approaching with Phil and Winnie. “Phil?” she asked. “Who is this?”
“My name is Brandon Liu, I’m sorry to have startled you,” he said, extending his hand. Rhonda didn’t take it.
“There were a bunch of people assaulting him, Mom,” Winnie said. “Just because he’s Chinese.”
“Well, in their defense, they thought I was Korean,” Brandon said with a chuckle. The joke fell flat.
Rhonda still didn’t move and still kept her hand close to the pistol in her holster.
“They tell me your name is Rhonda,” Liu said. “Like I said, I’m Brandon. I’m actually a Customs and Border Patrol Agent. I work for Homeland Security.”
Rhonda’s eyes widened, and she stiffened. His claim did nothing to make her feel more secure.
“Say what?” Greer asked. “Homeland Security? What exactly are you doing on this side of that blasted fence?” He jerked his head over towards the makeshift barricade surrounded by flashing blue lights.
“I don’t know anything about it,” Brandon replied. “Seems there’s lots of things I’m in the dark about these days.”
“So what are you doing out here?” Rhonda asked. Angel had unslung his M4 carbine and held it in both hands though the barrel pointed towards the ground.
“That is a very long story,” he almost whispered. “One I’m happy to tell when there’s time.”
“I think you might have to make time,” Greer said. “You’ll have to excuse us if we find trust to be a somewhat rare commodity in these trying times.”
Brandon lifted his hands, showing both palms to the group. “I get it. I do, believe me. Trust doesn’t come naturally to me right now, either. It did once. But then my wife was killed.” His voice trailed off and broke apart towards the end of the sentence.
“Losing loved ones seems to be a trend among most,” Rhonda said, her eyes darting towards the RV where Brad was sitting somewhere inside.
“Indeed.”
“So how do we resolve this?” Angel asked. “We don’t trust you, you don’t trust us, ain’t nobody trusting nobody. Makes it hard to meet new friends, huh?”
“He gave us this,” Winnie interjected, taking a step forward. She held out her hand, Liu’s P2000 pistol resting on her palm. Rhonda snatched it away from her and stuffed it in her pocket.
“Okay, so you say it’s a long story. Fair enough. Got the crib notes?”
Brandon sighed and glanced at the ground for a moment, then looked back up again. “I worked for the CBP in Boston. I was one of the agents who successfully stopped a device detonation there.”
“Goodness,” Rhonda said.
“Long story short, we found some possible links to domestic terrorists working alongside North Korean infiltrators. I ran this possibility up the chain of command, and suddenly I had a mysterious car trying to run me down. I managed to get away, my wife didn’t.”
Rhonda chewed her lip but held back from expressing sympathy.
“I met with Alcohol Tobacco and Firearms, expressed my concerns to them, our meeting got ambushed and my ATF contact was shot to death. I decided that Boston was no longer a safe place to be. We’d traced back some material to a factory here in Illinois, so I decided to take a little field trip. Now, here I am.”
“That wasn’t such a long story,” Greer said.
Liu drew in a long, tired, sad breath. “No, I suppose not. Maybe I just wish the end of my life and career as I knew it was a bit of a longer story than it turned out to be.”
“Fair enough,” Rhonda said. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Liu.”
“Please, call me Brandon. I’m sure we could all say we were sorry for your loss right around this circle. I’m not unique in that regard, unfortunately.”
“So, what’s next?” Phil asked. “Did Max and Brad find anything interesting down that way?”
Rhonda shook her head. “Besides more crazy people? No.”
“Seems to be a trend.”
“Where are you trying to go?” Liu asked, glancing over his shoulder towards the barricade.
“We believe our eldest daughter is in Chicago,” Rhonda said. “She went to UCLA and narrowly escaped the first detonation. We traced her flight to O’Hare.”
Liu turned and looked at the barricade full on, seeming to consider the ramifications of what he was about to say.
“What if I told you I might be able to get us through?” He turned and looked at Rhonda.
“You’d better not be joking,” she replied.
“I might know a guy.”
“You might know a guy? Who wants to help a bunch of strangers get across this barricade? What’s the catch?” Rhonda asked.
“No catch,” Brandon replied. “Only a favor for a favor. See I need to get to Chicago myself, and I’m going to be able to move a lot quicker in that RV than I am on foot. If my buddy is still working border patrol up here, and I get him to let us in, can I count on you for a ride to where I need to go?”
Rhonda looked at him cautiously. He was a federal agent, but in recent weeks that didn’t automatically make him trustworthy. Yet somehow, she sensed goodness in him. Honesty. She didn’t think he was lying to h
er, and if they both needed each other, perhaps this was a relationship that could work out in each of their favor.
“Then what are we waiting for?” Rhonda asked. “Let’s load up this beast and get moving.”
Brandon nodded, hoping that the guy he knew was indeed still living and still working in Chicago, or else this new partnership could be very short-lived indeed.
Chapter 4
The RV was silent, Rhonda and Phil sitting in the front seat, looking out through the windshield at the darkened horizon ahead. Liu had disappeared from view several moments earlier, swallowed by the night.
“I still can’t believe she had a boyfriend she never told us about,” Rhonda whispered.
Phil turned to look at her. “It surprises you? Really?”
Rhonda looked back at him, her face aghast. “Of course it does. Lydia and I were always close, Phil. I liked to think she told me everything.”
“She’s a teenage girl, Rhonda. They’re genetically programmed not to tell you everything.”
Rhonda shook her head. “Lydia was different.”
“Don’t act like you guys never disagreed on something,” he replied. “Remember that summer? What was it, five years ago?”
“What are you talking about?”
“She wanted to go see your parents or something, right? They gave her that iPhone for Christmas.”
“Oh my,” Rhonda said, remembering the adventure. “That’s right. We’d always refused, told her she was too young. Leave it to the grandparents.”
“So what was the big argument about?” Phil asked. “I mean, I know you were upset about the iPhone, but that wasn’t the big deal, was it?”
Rhonda shook her head. “No. The big deal was that they wanted her to come visit them. The iPhone came with bus tickets, Denver to Brisbee.” Rhonda’s voice lowered. The playful exuberance of the memory replaced by an almost melancholy remorse for how events of the past played out.
“That’s right. You put your foot down hard on that one. I don’t remember if you ever told me why.”
Rhonda sighed. “Long story, Phil. My parents were always the manipulative type. I told you that.”
“I remember.”
“But in the end, I let her go.”
Phil glanced at her. “I know. To this day I’m surprised you relented. Pleasantly surprised. I think it helped your relationship with Lydia to show that trust. That flexibility.”
Rhonda shook her head. “I should have held my ground.”
“Why do you say that?”
She shrugged. “She went every summer since then. I opened the door once, she expected it every year.”
“Was that such a bad thing?”
Rhonda didn’t reply for a few moments, her eyes deep in thought. “I suppose not.”
But in truth, it had bothered her. Her experiences with her parents had been rough at best and damaging at worst. Growing up preparing yourself for the inevitable apocalypse left little time for truly enjoying and appreciating childhood. She couldn’t imagine Lydia going through some of the same stuff she had, even as an older child.
But she trusted Lydia. She loved her. They had been close for Lydia’s entire life and Rhonda desperately did not want this one event—one created by her parents of all people—to cause a permanent rift between them.
So, she’d given in. She’d agreed to let Lydia visit Gerard and Jodi Krueller, and for a while, she’d deeply regretted it. It had seemed like from that time on, she and Lydia had drifted slowly apart, in spite of Rhonda battling to bring her closer. Because of the growing distance, she hadn’t necessarily been surprised when her eldest daughter accepted to attend UCLA, but at least it was pushing her further away from her grandparents as well. Take the good with the bad. Looking back on it, there seemed to be an undeniable destiny to her move to another state, and in reality once she left home, she and Rhonda had started a healing process that had actually brought them closer together.
Rhonda looked down at her watch. “How long has it been?” she asked, changing the subject.
“I don’t know, like fifteen minutes?” Phil replied. “It’s okay, Rhonda, I suspect this will take some time.”
“Yeah, mom, chill out. You’re gonna give us all stress headaches,” Winnie said, rolling her eyes. She was laying on the bench by the right-side windows near the rear of the recreational vehicle.
Brad sat opposite from her, leaning against the wall and glaring out the window, seemingly uninterested in his surroundings.
“So this doesn’t strike anyone as convenient?” Rhonda continued. “We happen to stumble on a guy who can help us get right where we need to go? Doesn’t this seem sort of coincidental?”
“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Enough stuff has gone sideways over the past few weeks, maybe karma is cutting us some slack for a change,” Phil replied. He was sitting up in the passenger seat and looking out the front windshield at the darkened sky, rhythmically cut by slashes of blue light.
“I wish Greer and Angel hadn’t both gone along.” Rhonda stood and walked to one of the rear windows next to Brad and looked out, putting a calming hand on the young boy’s back. He didn’t react.
“Oh is that so?” Phil asked. “Don’t think Max, Brad, and I can hold down the fort?”
Rhonda scoffed. “Once my shoulder heals, I’ll outshoot all three of you sorry city boys.” She paused for a moment, then glanced around. “Speaking of Maxie, where did he run off to?”
“He went to the bathroom,” Winnie replied. “I don’t even want to know what he’s doing in there.”
“Be nice to your brother,” Rhonda said, making her way towards the back of the vehicle. She clenched her first and rapped on the door. “Max? Everything all right?”
“Leave the boy alone,” said Phil. “Let the poor kid do what he has to do in peace.”
“He’s not answering, Phillip,” Rhonda said.
Phil stood from his seat and walked down the aisle, slipping past Winnie and Brad. “Max?” he said in a loud voice as he got near. “Son?”
There was no response.
Rhonda jiggled the door handle, but it was latched shut.
“Max!” Phil shouted, pounding on the door. It was light and flimsy under his fist, but as the only accessible bathroom, he was hesitant to break down the door.
Rhonda was less so. She charged forward with her good shoulder, barreling into the seam where the door met the frame, and with a metallic pong it sprang open into the narrow outhouse style bathroom within.
It was empty, but a single solitary window on the opposite wall stood open.
“Phil,” Rhonda said, then turned towards him. “I think Max left.”
Her husband eased his way past her and into the bathroom, making his way to the far wall. He pressed his face up against the window and glanced out, but the sky was dark and there weren’t many light sources out this way. He could see nothing, but looking at the size of the window, he was almost certain Max could have fit through.
“Where do you think he went?” Rhonda asked, her voice raising to the brittle edge of panic.
“Where do you think?” Phil asked.
“Do you think he followed the others to the barricade?”
Phil nodded.
“That child,” Rhonda hissed. “When he gets back here, I’m going to—”
“We’re going to be glad he’s okay.”
“He’s twelve for crying out loud, Phillip! He may think he’s an adult, but he’s not.”
“Being twelve a month ago isn’t the same thing as it is now. You know that as well as I do. We need to be careful, honey. His head and heart are maturing faster than his body knows what to deal with. We need to do this the right way.”
Brad turned towards them. “Is that what’s happening to me?” he asked. “The way I’m feeling?”
“What do you mean, Bradley?” Rhonda asked, taking a step towards him, trying to redirect her fear and anger towards Max in a more productive direc
tion.
“I mean…I just don’t feel stuff. Not anymore. I’m not afraid. I’m not worried. I just don’t really care anymore.”
Rhonda lowered her head, clutching the boy’s shoulder.
“Well, that’s not exactly true,” Brad continued. “I do care. I care about finding the people that killed mom and dad and doing the same thing to them they did to my parents. But that’s all I care about. It’s all I think about.”
“Oh, honey,” Rhonda said, moving towards him and wrapping his narrow shoulders in a tight embrace. Within the confines of her arms, he was a stiff board, arms pressed to shoulders, pressed to chest, just an object. No emotion. Rhonda pulled away and looked at him. “It’s okay to feel that way right now. It’s still fresh. Things will get better.”
“How?”
“What do you mean?”
Brad shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, the way the world used to be there was stuff to look forward to. A cool movie. Some new video game. Things that might help you forget the people you lost.”
Rhonda felt tears welling in her eyes but tried hard not to let them spill away.
“What do we have now? Miles and miles of the same stupid farmland. The same stupid crazy people everywhere we stop. Guns, violence, death. That’s all life is right now. There is nothing to look forward to. Nothing to make us forget the ones we lost.”
“There are the ones who are still left,” Rhonda said. “Us. Clancy. Angel. We all care about you, Brad. You’re a part of our family now.”
“Thanks,” he muttered, but it was a flat, scant echo of the word.
Rhonda reached over, tousled his hair and gave him a soft kiss, but it was little more than kissing a moss-covered stone. She stood and walked towards the front of the RV, pressing her eyes closed tight to shut the tears away.
***
Max froze when the border agents tackled Liu, Angel, and Greer. He dropped close to the grass on the downward slope of the embankment, the paved access road to his right. He’d snuck out the side window of the RV and had followed them the whole way, keeping to the shadows. He’d pulled his weapon when yet another person with a crazed look in his eye approached the group, but he never had to fire it. Amazingly, the situation managed to resolve itself.
