by Harley Tate
Carl whooped and his fist shot up, a wrinkled plastic baggie in his hand. “I told you, Rocky. I told you!” He jumped up, beaming in delight. “It’s all here. Got to be fifteen dubs, man.”
Dani swallowed down her disgust. Thanks to her mother’s vice, she knew more about the street than she ever wanted to know. If these two idiots were only after a few bags of pot, they were small time. Not a serious threat. Her shoulders eased as she sucked in a full breath.
Carl made his way to Rocky, holding the bag in front of him like a kid with a full Christmas stocking. “See? Darlene will go ape-shit for this, won’t she?”
Rocky shrugged. “Shit if I know man. Let’s go.” They left together, Carl with a bounce in his step and Rocky with a heavy swagger due more to his weight than his ego.
Dani counted to five hundred after their shapes disappeared from view before moving. In the last five days, she’d run across three times as many rats as people, but that didn’t mean plenty of people weren’t out there. Most of the stores were ransacked—cleared out of beer and snacks and stupid stuff that used to hold value. Even the liquor store windows grimaced with broken shards of glass in front of empty shelves.
Before the EMP, Dani often thought that living with her mother in this downtrodden, sad-sack part of town was the bottom of the barrel. She’d been wrong. Take the same area and flick off the lights and it only sank lower, right through the floor to the dark depths beyond.
Now the sagging storefronts gaped like the maws of death and the only people still around roamed the streets without regard for the prior rule of law. It was every girl for herself.
Dani tugged open her backpack and scooped up every unopened package of chips and cookies she could find, dumping Tastycake chocolate brownies and Hostess Sno Balls on top of chili cheese Fritos and bags of Takis. Would she ever see a piece of fresh fruit or a vegetable again? Not that they’d been high on her list of food choices, but she’d at least seen a salad in the school cafeteria five days a week.
Would lettuce ever surface in the town of Eugene? Or would everyone be relegated to scrounging for canned peaches and green beans to ward off scurvy? Was scurvy even a thing or just something Gran used in the face of a plate full of broccoli? There was so much Dani didn’t know.
She shook off the spiraling thoughts and tugged her bag up onto her shoulder. Colt had admonished her to look for more than just snacks, so she set to exploring the edges of the store. Bleach, batteries, and baby wipes. Those were the key items on her list.
It didn’t take long to find the baby wipes; no one on this side of town gave a crap about kids. Dani shoved three containers into her bag and tried to fit a fourth, but it kept popping out the top. Darn it. She shuffled through the debris and broken shelves to the counter where Carl found the bag of pot. She tugged a white shopping bag with a bright red smiley face off the rack and fluffed it open.
“Have a Nice Day,” it proclaimed on the other side.
Yeah, right.
She shoved the baby wipes into the bag and turned around. A display of candy caught her eye. Most of the chocolate was gone, but a bag of Werther’s Originals still hung from the metal post. Gran’s favorite candy. Dani reached for the bag as memories of Gran’s candy bowl filled her mind.
She choked back a sudden sob.
If only Gran had told her about the cancer, they could have done something about it before it was too late. She tore the bag open and pulled out a shiny foil-wrapped candy. Gran only let her have one on special occasions. A birthday. A good grade on a test. Dani unwrapped the hard little caramel and popped it into her mouth.
Butter and sugar and the taste of Gran’s love. Emotion clogged her throat. She gagged and spit the candy on the floor. “Get it together, Dani. You don’t have time for this.”
“Talkin’ to yourself? I heard that’s the first sign you’ve gone crazy.”
Dani spun around. Oh, no. Her lips edged into a phony smile. “Hi, Skeeter.”
“That’s all I get? The world goes to shit and all you can say is hi?” Skeeter slinked inside, all smarm and sleaze. His faded cords hung loose on his hips and the chain connecting a wallet to his belt jingled as he moved. He glided past the candy wrappers and crushed bags of chips like a snake in muddy water.
Dani held out the bag. “Candy?”
With bony fingers, Skeeter plucked the entire bag from Dani’s grip and fished a single candy out. He held it out to her like he’d done her a favor. “Where’s your mother? She owes me for a Q.”
Dani’s eyes went wide as she took the candy. Skeeter gave her a quarter ounce? That cost two hundred dollars before. Now that the power went out, the price of heroin had to skyrocket. She couldn’t believe Skeeter would give up that much without payment. “You never front her that much.”
Skeeter grinned, accentuating the hollows of his cheeks. “Your old lady made it worth my while, if you catch my drift.” He unwrapped one of the candies and popped it in his mouth as his eyes lingered in places they shouldn’t. “You ever consider following in your mother’s footsteps? With a body like that, you’d fetch a mint.”
Dani backtracked until she bumped the display behind her.
Skeeter laughed. “Don’t get all wide-eyed and skittish, girl. I ain’t gonna force ya. My clients like ’em able and willing.” He rolled his hips and sucked on the candy and Dani pressed her lips together. Skeeter had always been decent to her, despite pumping her mother full of drugs. But how would he react when he learned her mother had moved on to greener pastures?
She played it off. “I think she’s on a bender.”
“How about you try that again.”
Dani hesitated. “What do you mean?”
“No dealer in this ‘hood will give your momma another dime. She’s in hock to all of us.”
“How bad?”
“As bad as it gets.” Skeeter stepped close enough to reach out and stroke Dani’s hair. She forced her body still. “You and me, we have an understanding, but some of these other guys… Let’s just say they won’t be so accommodating. You tell Becky if she doesn’t pay up, her daughter’s gonna have to work it off. One way or another.”
Dani swallowed. “I’ll tell her.”
“Good.” Skeeter stepped back and shook the bag of Werther’s. “Thanks for the candy, babe. You’ve always been a sweetheart.”
He sauntered from the store, leaving unease and fear in his wake. Dani couldn’t pay off all the dealers in the neighborhood. Nor could she tell them where to find her mother. No one would believe that her mother had wormed her way into the militia’s good graces.
Dani shoved the single candy in her pocket and looked around. If she’d been on her own, now would be the time to leave town. But she wasn’t alone.
Not only did she have Colt to think about, but the Wilkinses and the Harpers, too. If Harvey hadn’t dragged a dying Colt to safety, Dani would be sitting in a makeshift jail cell at the University of Oregon, waiting for the militia who controlled the area to decide her fate.
If Melody hadn’t covered for her when the militia shot up Harvey’s house, she would be a pile of ash in the burned-out remains of the entire block. Dani owed them her life and Colt’s, too. Now, because they risked everything to save her and Colt, they were homeless and scared and unsure what to do.
She couldn’t abandon them, no matter the danger.
Everyone was hungry and dirty and exhausted. Melody almost died. Doug and Larkin and Colt killed more militia members than Dani could count. Even Will suffered. If it hadn’t been for Dani and Colt stumbling into their lives, none of this would have happened. She owed it to them to help.
Dani grabbed her backpack and shopping bag and took a deep breath. No matter the risk, she had to keep scavenging. There were three more stores on her list to clear and she wouldn’t go home until she’d done it. No turning back. Not now. Not ever.
Chapter Two
MELODY
489 Bellwether Street
Eugene, Oregon
/> 8:30 a.m.
“Come on, you stupid thing.” Melody wrestled the shower curtain to one side. The fresh rainwater sloshed and she bit back a curse. I can’t spill this. She took a calming breath and tried again, tugging the edge of the curtain toward the waiting two-liter bottle with both hands.
The water rolled toward her like a rising tide and she struggled to keep the plastic steady. Water splashed over the edge and down into the bottle anchored between her feet. As it filled, she sucked in a much-needed breath of air.
So far, so good. The first bottle filled and she pulled up on the plastic curtain to stop the flow. Only four more to go. The makeshift water collection station Colt rigged up on the edge of the patio had done the job. Now they had enough water for a few days.
Melody pushed a greasy clump of hair off her face and pulled over the next bottle, filling it without so much as a spilled drop. The more she worked, the better she got, until at last, every bottle sat full and the plastic curtain held nothing more than a splash of water.
She leaned back and exhaled. If only the sky would rain hot coffee and half-and-half. After screwing the caps on each bottle, she carted them into the apartment. Thanks to the rainy weather of the past few days and the trash full of empty bottles throughout the apartment building, they managed to collect almost ten gallons of water.
It wasn’t close to enough.
In the past, survival had always been an abstract concept for Melody. Even after the grid failed, with the National Guard carting in water and food, she hadn’t gone hungry. Sure, the pit toilet in the backyard stunk, but she’d been able to wash and eat and sleep in her own bed.
Now, though, the horror of the future had truly set in. No water. No food. No shelter. Nothing they didn’t fight for or scrounge up from some rat-infested hole in the wall. She scratched her dirty scalp and frowned. Would it ever get better than this?
“Staring at those bottles won’t turn them into coffee, honey.”
Melody smiled as Gloria walked past her into the kitchen. “I’d settle for an ice-cold shower, to be honest.”
Gloria poured herself a glass of water and motioned toward the empty patio. She eased into a chair opposite Gloria and focused on the horizon. Three miles away, Colonel Jarvis had electricity and hot water and enough rations to last for months.
They didn’t have enough food for the day.
The first pangs of hunger hit her stomach and Melody glanced back inside. Everyone was either gone or still sleeping. She and Gloria were alone.
At over twice Melody’s age, Gloria Wilkins had seen her fair share of hardship, but this had to be the worst. She caught her former neighbor’s eye. “Do you regret it?”
The wrinkles deepened around Gloria’s mouth. “Leaving? After our house burned to the ground we didn’t have much choice.”
“No. I meant all of it. Taking in Colt and Dani. Standing up to Jarvis.” Her voice cracked and Melody took a moment to swallow. “Everything.”
“Not for a second. How can you even ask that after what those men tried to do?”
Melody focused on a crumbling patch of stucco on the wall. She hadn’t been able to sleep since she killed that horrible man. Nightmares of what he wanted… the things he said…. She hugged herself even though she wasn’t cold. “If we hadn’t taken Colt and Dani in, none of that would have happened.”
“Colt didn’t do those things. Jarvis and his militia did. Don’t blame the people helping us.”
“I’m not.” Melody risked a glance at the older woman. She’d tried to keep the what-ifs at bay the last few days, but as every angry bruise faded to yellowed skin, she wondered. “I can’t help thinking: what if we’d minded our own business?”
Gloria blew out a puff of breath. “It might have delayed everything a little, but sooner or later, the militia would have come for us.”
“Why? We were following the rules.” As the last word slipped out, Lottie trotted up, hungry little eyes begging for breakfast. Melody frowned. “Okay, maybe not all the rules. But they wouldn’t have burned down our houses over Lottie.”
“You don’t know that.” Gloria smoothed back her gray hair. “Look at what they did to you, Melody. That room with the beds and the gaudy clothes and the line of men outside the door…” Gloria shuddered. “They were going to use you no matter what.” She shook her head. “All the people like me with nothing to offer—those are ones I worry about. How long will they live under Jarvis’s control? How long will he let them drain his resources before he puts a bullet in their heads?”
Melody jerked away. Gloria was right. Jarvis didn’t care about a single resident of Eugene. She remembered how Lucas’s blood splattered the walls when Jarvis shot him in the head. Angela’s face, contorted in terror before Jarvis’s minions killed her.
Still, Melody couldn’t help but mourn. They had spent five days scrubbing and cleaning and organizing the top-floor apartment she now sat in, but it wasn’t home. Jarvis burned their houses to the ground. Every memento. Every treasure she kept from her parents, gone up in smoke and ash. Her family home, destroyed because of what?
Because the power went out?
It didn’t seem real. If it weren’t for the bruises and cuts all over her body, she would be tempted to call it all a dream. Some twisted nightmare she couldn’t wake up from. But the wounds were real. Melody pushed up the sleeve of her shirt and stared at the finger marks now yellowing across her arm.
When they weren’t cleaning the apartment, they had worked countless hours clearing and fortifying the building. Between the barricades in the front and the boobytraps in the back, she felt secure from a thief or an enterprising addict. But not the militia. Not after she’d seen what they could do.
She spoke the thoughts forcing their way to the surface. “If our experience is anything to go by, Jarvis won’t hesitate to eliminate the dead weight.”
“Who are you calling dead weight?”
Major James Larkin’s jubilant voice filled the apartment and Melody glanced up. He lumbered out to the patio, arms laden with plastic grocery bags.
“Busy morning shopping?”
He set the bags on the coffee table and fluffed one open. “Straight from the finest gourmet market in the Pacific Northwest. I present, breakfast!” His hands emerged with a crushed box of Pop Tarts and a partial six-pack of Mountain Dew.
“Oh, my, what rare and exotic delicacies.” Melody snorted, but her mood lightened. “Where on earth did you find them?”
Larkin fell onto the seat next to her with a sigh. “Top-floor apartment three blocks over. It’s getting harder and harder to scavenge, that’s for sure.”
Melody took the box and tugged it open. Two wrapped packages still inside. She handed one to him. “Here, you should eat.”
He shook his head. “Ladies first, I insist.”
Melody frowned, but handed it over to Gloria all the same. “I should go next time. It’s not fair that you and Colt are doing most of the work.”
“You’re injured. You need time to rest.”
“It’s been five days. I can help.”
“Tell that to Colt. If he had his way, you’d be locked up here permanently.”
Melody pulled a Mountain Dew free from the plastic holding the cans together. “He doesn’t get to make that decision.” She popped the top of the can and took a sip. “Ugh. This stuff still takes like pee.”
“You do know that’s why it’s yellow, right?” Melody’s brother Doug laughed as he walked out to join them on the patio. He shook hands with Larkin and sat down. “That joke never gets old.”
Melody rolled her eyes. “It does when you’ve heard it for almost twenty years.”
“Ouch. I think she just called you old.” Larkin pulled a soda off the plastic and handed it to Doug. “Is she always so mean?”
Doug grinned. “Only to her brother.”
She pouted. “I didn’t drink Mountain Dew for years because of you. And I still can’t get over the taste.”<
br />
She still remembered the day Doug poured the contents of a can on the sidewalk and let his sister in on the secret. He’d leaned over, his twelve-year-old frame still lanky with youth, and whispered about how a guy peed into every can.
Melody barked out a laugh, her vocal cords unused to the effort. She stroked her throat. Had it been that long since she’d relaxed?
Gloria handed over a Pop Tart and Melody took it with a grateful smile. Doug and Larkin split the other package. The four of them chomped and slurped like a group of college kids on break between classes. They had done an amazing job turning the abandoned apartment into a place eight people and a little dog could call home, but she knew they couldn’t stay.
As soon as everyone healed enough to hit the road, they would drive out of Eugene and never look back. The more miles they put between themselves, Colonel Jarvis, and the militia he controlled, the better. Part of her wished they could launch an attack and kill the man, but that was the stuff of movies. No more real than an action-hero film.
She scooped Lottie up into her arms and broke off a piece of the pastry. Lottie nibbled on it and relaxed into Melody’s lap. Maybe Colt and Dani would have more success scavenging. At some point their luck had to change.
Chapter Three
COLT
672 Bellwether Street
Eugene, Oregon
9:00 a.m.
Colt eased into the living room with his Sig Sauer level and ready. Greasy rivulets of rain and grime obscured the morning sun through the window. He clicked on a flashlight and panned the space. Empty.
The stink of decaying garbage hit his nose and he snorted. No one cleaned up around here. He cleared the room before ducking into the hall and surveying the bathroom and bedroom. No one stuck around, either. As he holstered his weapon, Colt took stock.
Another abandoned apartment on the wrong side of town, another sad sack of existence wiped out because an EMP fried the grid. Power kept so many people hanging on by a thread. Wreck it and they flat out couldn’t make it.
