Scorched

by Theresa Shaver

  Abuela waves me over and shows me the brakes on the wheels and how to unlatch them manually. She says there’s a control to apply them inside but I need to know as much as I can about how the machine works. I’m still annoyed that she keeps excluding herself from the journey but I will save that fight for if it’s needed when we leave. She calls Gloria off the cart and takes us around to the back of it where we all push to get it moved ahead and halfway out the doors. The wheels make the most agonizing screech as they move for the first time in three decades. We throw the front brakes on and Abuela searches the shelves until she comes back with a rusted oil can. The oil she squirts onto the wheels and axels is thick as slime with age but she seems to think it will still work.

  Once again, we work as a team to attach the small trailer, that is the exact same size as the hover sled, to the back of the cart and then we begin transferring the supplies to it. Abuela insists that all the water jugs and as much of the food as possible go onto the shelves inside the cart. It’s going to be a tight fit for all three of us in the handcart with everything were taking but there will be enough room for two of us to stretch out on the bench with one of us pumping the handle. Even with the new vigor Abuela is showing, I know most of the pumping will fall on me. I’m ok with that knowing it will be worth all the pain and exhaustion once we get to the valley. I’m fully committed to this trip now and I’ve closed the door on all the doubts I have about it really being out there. I have no choice but to believe. There are no other options open to us.

  When we have emptied the sled and start our return to the house for the rest of the supplies, I’m surprised to see that the sun is close to the horizon. The day has been so long but also feels like it’s gone too fast. We’re leaving this place in an hour or so. The only home my sister and I have ever know known. I find my feet slowing as we enter the yard and I take in the weathered wood of the house. So many memories are stored behind its walls. Some bad, my mother always unhappy and constantly fighting with Abuela. Then her leaving and me waiting by the front window for her to come back. But even more are happy. Gloria being born right there in that house and being thrilled to be a big sister. Abuela teaching me how to cook and tend to our precious plants. Teaching Gloria to read, word by word on the front porch. These are all things I will have to say goodbye to now.

  I shake off my nostalgia and move faster to help load the last of the water jugs as Glo struggles to lift the wooden chest of plant clippings. I see her determination so leave her to it. She might be tiny but she has strength in her small arms. Abuela walks towards the house calling out to us,

  “Finish this last bit and I will go gather what’s left in the kitchen. I put the food I prepared for us in the basement to keep cool. I’ll go get it and then we will be ready to leave. Say goodbye to our home, girls. She’s been good to us!”

  Chapter Seven

  The house my brother took over a few years ago is one of the biggest in the town. It was previously owned by a wealthy family that had fled north before the wall went up and had been sitting empty for years. He not only picked it for the size and grandeur of it but because it had an antique hand pump connected to a well in what was once a decorative garden. The previous owners probably had it installed for a quaint water feature. For us, it meant life.

  The house is big enough to hold all his men. Boyd likes having them all under his roof to better control them. When we had gotten all the wagons into the front entrance, they all left them there for me to unpack and they settled in, lounging on old dusty couches in the living room. That suits me just fine. I’m pumped full of rage at the way Boyd had threatened Claudia and was ready to gut him like a fish if he spoke to me. I’m getting a grip on some of the jugs to carry them into the kitchen when Marco’s excited voice rings out and Boyd yells for everyone to “shut up”. I let the jugs fall back into the wagon and step closer to the livingroom entrance to hear what he had to say.

  “Alright, Marco. Start at the beginning.” Boyd commands.

  “Right, so I go back to the square like you said and take a good look around. It’s not like normal where they leave the tables and partitions in place for next week. They’re pulling it all down and loading it up into the trucks. They even took the signs down! Instead, they put up new ones. So once the soldiers cleared out and the trucks left, I ran over to see what the new signs said.

  You’re not going to believe it! They’re shutting the whole thing down. No more rations or water...at all! The sign says there will be buses coming next week instead to take everyone north to the camps. The government’s abandoning all the southwestern states completely!”

  I peek around the corner to see into the room and watch as Boyd’s eyes go from rage to cold and calculating at the information. He spits onto the wood floor between his feet and snarls.

  “No one’s taking me to any labor camp! What about the rest of you? You wanna go be some government big shot’s slave?” When all the men roar in the negative he leans back. “This is a game changer. If we’re going to survive without access to the ration stations then we’re going to have to take matters into our own hands and start stocking up right now.” He looks around and yells, “Somebody get me a map of town!” Once he has one spread out on the dirty table in front of him, they start marking occupied houses street by street.

  I slip away from the door and go back to moving the supplies into the kitchen as my thoughts spin out of control. I don’t want to go to a camp either but I definitely don’t want to be around here when Boyd and his thugs burn the place to the ground. I know that’s what’s coming with his planning. They’re going to go house to house and force everyone to give up what little they have. People are going to get hurt. He won’t hold back now that he knows his supply chain is about to go dry.

  I finish up quickly, grab a tall glass of water from one of the stolen jugs and head out the side door to the back yard to think. I like sitting out here after the sun has passed over the house and there’s a little bit of shade. I settle into an old wooden lawn chair and try to ignore the ugly voices floating out of the open windows as they compare notes on who lives where and what they might have. I chug back my water and then rest my head back and close my eyes. I can’t be a part of this. I can’t go loot people’s homes of the little they have left, especially when I know there won’t be more coming. I wish there was some way I could warn the town of what was coming and then find a way to escape this place. I’m so sick of being trapped here under Boyd’s thumb. I want to run. Run far away and find a new life but there just isn’t anywhere left to go. I feel all hope leave me when I realize I’m going to die in this town.

  “...here first! Anyone else notice she seemed a little too well fed? I bet they have food stored up in that house.” Floats out through the window to me. I sit up as fear for my once friend fills me, but what I hear next changes my fear to determination.

  “The girl’s mine. I don’t care what you do to the old woman or the brat, but no one lays a hand on the girl!”

  I might die in this town but I’ll go out doing the right thing, protecting the last person who showed me kindness!

  Chapter Eight

  Gloria and I have just finished loading the last jug and box onto the sled when a massive banging noise comes from inside of the house. My head whips towards the back door in fear. Did we wait too long? Are the gangs here? I push Gloria down to the ground beside the sled.

  “Wait here! Do not move until I tell you it’s safe and if I yell for you to run, you get out that gate and into the handcart. I will meet you there!”

  I don’t wait for her agreement but turn and sprint for the door just as another loud pounding comes. I’m so frantic with worry for Abuela that I yank the screen door out of its top hinges. I’m halfway through the kitchen with a direct line of sight to the front door so I see the moment it crashes open. There’s a tall man silhouetted in the opening but I can’t make out who it is. When he yells my name and rushes towards me down the hall, I
recognize the voice instantly.

  “Claudia!” Beck bellows down the hall.

  The fear I felt a moment ago morphs into indignation and I bellow right back at him.

  “How dare you break into my house? What do you think you’re doing? Did your brother send you to harass me again?”

  He rushes right up to me and I see how his chest is heaving for air like he’s just run miles. His voice is a rough rasp as he grabs my arm while trying to catch his breath.

  “No...time...they’re...coming...for...YOU! Have...to...run!”

  My body goes cold with terror. I don’t know why he’s crossed his brother to warn me but he’s right, we have to run, right now. I yank my arm from his and spin towards the back door. I can feel his breath on the back of my next as he follows me right out the door.

  “Gloria! Take the sled back to the cart. We have to go right now!”

  I see her face pale in the last of the day’s light but she doesn’t move. She’s staring at who’s behind me.

  “Never mind him! He came to warn us that the gangs are heading this way. I need you to go and start loading as much as you can lift so we can escape. I will get Abuela and meet you there.”

  Beck steps around me and looks the sled over before turning to me. He’s gotten his breathing under control when he speaks but I’m shocked at his words.

  “You’re already running? You have somewhere to go? Can I come too? I can help!”

  I shake my head in confusion. Does he want to come with us? He hasn’t spoken to me since we were children. Why would he want to come with me anywhere? I remember the look of pure hate he flashed at his brother and how he let us pass after we got our rations. Maybe Beck isn’t as bad as I thought and he’s looking to escape too. A shout from the front of the house in the street rings out making all of my thoughts about Beck disappear. I can’t deal with him now. I have to get Abuela and run! I point at Gloria.

  “GO, take the sled as fast as you can. I’ll meet you there!”

  I see her nod and pick up the remote so I turn and dive for the house. I waste precious seconds wrestling with the half hanging screen door before I finally yank it away from the frame and fly into the house. It’s like déjà vu when I get part way through the kitchen and see another man fill the front door. I freeze in place like a scared deer when his nasty chuckle rumbles out of him. He only says one word, “Indigo” but it’s enough to make me start backing up. As he steps into my home, a glow slowly fills the hallway until Abuela steps between us. She looks my way briefly before glancing at the front door where Boyd has paused. Everything seems to slow right down after that. She leans over and places the lantern she’s carrying in one hand and the basket in her other onto the floor. Her foot pushes the basket down the hallway towards me and then swings back to kick the lantern towards Boyd. My mouth gapes open as I watch it arc into the air and then smash into the wall beside the front door. Hot flaming oil splashes in every direction, instantly causing flames to devour the old dry wood of the walls and door frame.

  Boyd roars in rage and maybe pain, but I take no satisfaction from it as I watch my home begin to burn. I pull my eyes away from the flames and focus on Abuela. I’m shocked to see her smiling at me as she starts in my direction. Her hand has flipped open the messenger bag she’s worn since this morning and just as she pulls something from it, there’s an incredibly loud bang. I’m too far away to catch her when she’s shoved towards me and then drops to the floor but the object she had removed from her bag slides all the way to a stop at my feet. I can’t help but reach down to pick it up. The smooth worn handle of the revolver fits perfectly in my hand and I raise it towards the front door by instinct and pull the trigger. I hear his howl of pain and see him disappear out of sight so I take my chance and rush towards Abuela.

  She’s gasping for breath on her stomach and trying to pull the strap of the bag over her head when I reach her. I take in the spreading stain of blood on her back before gently turning her over. When her eyes focus on mine, the pain washes away from her face and a beautiful smile emerges. She grips my hand tightly and moves it to the strap she’s been fighting with so I lift it over her head.

  “The maps, bullets and my Lucas’s letters. Take them and run, Día.”

  I shake my head in despair. “No, Abuela. You are coming with us. I can’t do it alone. I need you!” My voice cracks in pain on the last word but I can see she’s no longer with me. I suck in a sob and end up choking on a lung full of smoke. I force my eyes to leave her empty ones and look towards the front door. I see it’s completely engulfed in flames and they are rushing down the hall towards me. If I stay, I will burn so I bend over and kiss her head once and throw the strap of the bag over my head before pushing to my feet and racing for the back door. I reach down and scoop up the basket she kicked my way on the run. I will not surrender this last bit of love she made for us.

  I crash out of the back door with her gun leading the way. If Boyd or any of his thugs are waiting for me I will keep pulling the trigger until either they’re all dead or I am. The backyard is empty but it’s almost too dark to see so I run for the gate while swiveling my head around to look for danger. I take the time to close the gate quietly in the hopes of buying us a few more moments to escape. We might get lucky if they don’t discover it at all in the dark.

  My throat is on fire from inhaling the smoke and each breath burns all the way down but I stagger on down the ditch and up the other side, clawing my way up as I go. I hurl myself around the corner of the building and almost run straight into the side of the trailer with the sled covering it as it moves past me towards the main tracks. Confusion has me standing stock still as I try and process how Gloria is moving the train all by herself but I remember in a split second that Beck was with her. An enraged growl escapes from between my clenched teeth and I lunge towards the cart, catching the handle beside the door to pull myself up and into it. With a quick glance, I see him pumping the handle as hard as he can and then I look past him and see Gloria’s tear streaked face looking up at me from the bench. My hand is shaking as I raise the gun towards him. I try and order him off but all that comes out is a choked coughing fit that has me sinking to my knees. He looks down at me with an apologetic expression and then quickly looks away and pumps even harder.

  His brother just killed the only real mother I’ve ever had. I want to shoot him dead. I want to order him off the cart. Instead, I turn away from him and Gloria and look back towards our home. The flames are reaching high into the sky as the fire devours my home. We are moving away from it towards safety, maybe. I know I’m in no condition to pump the handles to keep us moving and we have to put as much distance between us and Boyd as possible. As I turn away from the disappearing life I had, I say nothing to Beck as he pumps away. I drop the rest of the way to the wooden floor, lay my head down on it and close my eyes. I can always shoot him in the morning.

  Chapter Nine

  Boyd Baker walks around the still smoldering wreckage of the home he had hoped would provide him and his men with a decent amount of food and water. Having Claudia would have been an extra bonus. He fumes silently as he watches some of his men pick through the ashes but there’s nothing left to scavenge. He should have noticed sooner that girl was better fed than most of the people left in the town but he hasn’t seen her in months. He wanders over to a wooden platform with a hand pump in the middle and gives it a few pumps. When nothing but the thinnest dribble of water comes out he walks away in disgust. Gone, any water or food they had been hiding was now gone. Speaking of gone - he turns his head and sees Marco making his way towards him.

  “Well?”

  Marco shakes his head. “Sorry, Boyd. No one’s seen him since last night. Pete saw him leave the house right before we headed out to come here but he did see which way he went. You think he left town?”

  Boyd smirks and turns his head to scan the yard hoping for a hidden patch of garden, but all he sees is dead grass and sand.

 
; “Oh, I think he left. But I don’t think he left alone. Beck used to be real sweet on that Claudia girl. I think he made his move on her before I could.”

  He starts to turn away from the yard when he sees a break in the back hedge. He heads that way thinking he should see where it leads before they move on to the next house they plan on visiting. When he gets close enough to see that there’s a gate, he turns and waves a few of his men to follow. Boyd sees the old building as soon as he goes through the gate and starts to grin. Maybe, just maybe, his little brother and the girl didn’t go very far after all. The three men move quietly across the field and over the ditch before splitting up to go around the building. Boyd pulls his gun from the waist of his pants and readies himself at the corner before peeking around. When he sees his man on the other corner, he nods once and they both move quickly to the open doors, guns raised. With a glance, he sees that it’s empty so he drops his gun arm down and curses.

  “Where the HELL did they go?”

  He spins to leave when the sun catches a shiny object on the ground. He leans over for a closer look and grunts in disappointment. It’s just the old railroad tracks. He takes a few steps back towards the house when he stops at a thought. Why are the tracks shiny? They should be covered in sand and dust like everything else. He spins around and strides back to the tracks but this time follows them towards the main line. Half way there he’s rewarded with another clue. A glob of black oil is slowly dissolving into the sand as the sun heats it. Boyd moves past it until he comes to where the siding track splits. The junction going west is dull and can barely be seen under the drifting sand and dust but the one going west is exposed steel like something cleaned it.