Her need to get the hell away from this place and the ‘blue’ gang kept her from wanting to explore any more houses. If Evergreen still had a population of decent people, someone there would surely help out providing better clothes for Madison.
Fear and need fought each other for some time as she navigated a network of suburban streets and once-expensive houses. If not for the coating of ash everywhere, burned walls, the constant smell of wood smoke and melted plastic mixed with a faint hint of overdone meat in the air, these could’ve been abandoned for no particular reason. Most remained intact, though a handful sported holes from rather large hunks of formerly airborne debris. Colorado Springs sat like ninety or so miles south. The thought that some of this junk might have flown from that far away brought a shiver.
I gotta get her some better stuff to wear.
She bit her lip, almost ready to risk the delay of searching houses for kid-sized clothing, but couldn’t build up the nerve to risk another brush with creeps. A few minutes of walking later, a commercial area emerged from the haze ahead. The road she’d been following led toward a small Mexican restaurant.
“We’re lost, aren’t we?” asked Madison. “We’ll never find our way back home.”
That’s not home anymore. She forced herself not to cry over her parents, or admit that she, too, wanted desperately to return to the place she grew up. But… doing that would bring them right into the heart of the gang’s territory. Even if they managed to avoid being kidnapped, going to their old house would also mean confronting her parents’ bodies. Somehow, she doubted those creeps would’ve bothered burying them.
“We’re gonna get in trouble.”
Harper patted her on the shoulder. “No, we won’t. We’re not in trouble. Dad wants us to go to Evergreen so we can be safe. There’s too many bad people where we used to live. We can’t go back there.”
Madison blinked, her expression devoid of emotion.
They crossed the street and paused at the door of Papa Taco.
“It’s going to be dark soon. We spent a long time hiding in that vent. This place might have something we can eat so we don’t have to use up the supplies we’ve got.”
“Why are we carrying cans if we’re not going to eat what’s inside them?”
Harper ruffled her sister’s hair. “Because, Termite. If we find food here, we’ll have those cans when there isn’t anything else to eat.”
“Oh. Duh.” Madison looked at her iPhone. “They didn’t call yet.”
Emitting an inaudible sigh, Harper raised the shotgun and ducked under the push bar on the aluminum frame door, sneakers crunching over billions of tiny glass pieces on the floor.
“Snow,” said Madison.
“It’s glass. Like special glass that breaks into little bits instead of big shards.”
“Oh.”
“You still shouldn’t step on it without real shoes.”
Madison scuffed her flip-flops across the tiles, plowing the debris aside, and followed Harper to the register counter. She climbed up to sit and played with the computers.
“C’mon. Don’t stray off.” Harper stood by the kitchen entrance, waiting.
“There’s no games on these.” Madison frowned at them.
Harper pushed the door open with the end of the shotgun and stepped into the kitchen. The burned smell from outside intensified in the enclosed space. Three windows afforded a measure of light, but between the late hour and hazy gloom, the hulking forms of industrial refrigerators loomed like waiting monsters.
“It’s scary in here,” whispered Madison. “Turn on the lights.”
“I can’t.” Harper approached a door that led to a pantry. Shelves full of dry goods and cans offered more promise than refrigerators.
Madison refused to go into the even more frightening pantry, and wandered around looking at the stoves and restaurant machines. She flipped a few buttons and switches, but nothing reacted to her.
“Who broke everything?” called Madison.
Harper grabbed a big can of refried beans plus a pack of burrito shells that didn’t feel too stale, and retreated from the pantry. “Politicians did.”
“I don’t like them.”
After sitting cross-legged on a rubber mat the cooks used to stand on, Harper fished the can opener out of her pack. She scooped the brown bean paste into tortilla shells, making two bean burritos while Madison continued exploring.
“C’mon, Termite. Time to eat.”
Madison traipsed over and sat nearby. She accepted the offering of food without protest and stuffed her face. Harper found the tortilla a bit staler than she would’ve eaten normally, but nuclear war had lowered her standards quite a bit. Thoughts of how often she’d complained about food not being fresh or flavorful enough drifted across her mind. Her little sister shivered, making Harper feel even colder. No building in Lakewood had functioning heat ever since the blast, at least not without a fireplace. That smoke had likely been what brought the ‘blue gang’ to their door.
Watching Madison shivering while trying to eat punched her in the stomach with guilt. We really should find better clothes. The day of the attack, Madison had put on those jean shorts because they were clean. All her long pants, she’d worn for days already and the washing machine no longer worked. They’d expected to spend yet another day hiding in the basement under blankets. Shorts shouldn’t have mattered.
Harper unrolled the comforter, pulled Madison close, and bundled up with her. The girl looked at her with the same neutral expression that had been on her face ever since they had to flee the house. After a few seconds of asking ‘we’re gonna die, aren’t we?’ with a stare, Madison huddled close to her.
We’re kinda close to the mall. Bet those idiots looted it already, but I doubt they’d take kid clothes. She tossed the last of her burrito in her mouth and scooped more refried beans onto another tortilla. Going to the mall offered a much higher chance of finding clothes for Madison instead of randomly breaking into houses hoping the former owners had kids. Of course, the mall also seemed like it would be a magnet for those creeps. However, she knew the layout of the Colorado Mills Mall, including the back hallways behind stores. If she had to willingly go into a dangerous situation, better to do it on familiar ground. She couldn’t allow Madison to run around in November wearing a T-shirt, shorts, a light jacket, and flip-flops. It’s either houses or the mall… and I like the odds more at the mall.
She folded up the burrito. “You want another one?”
Madison nodded, so Harper handed it over and made another.
After finishing her second burrito, Madison crawled out of the comforter and started doing leg stretches.
“C’mon, Termite. It’s too cold in here. Get back in the blanket.”
On one foot, her other leg straight up, Madison pivoted toward her. “I have dance class tomorrow. Gotta practice. Is Mom gonna drive me?”
Harper flinched at the memory of her mother screaming. She’d shot a man trying to come in the window over the kitchen sink, but not well enough to kill him. He stabbed her before she finished him off—but her mother had collapsed dead right after. “I… I’m sure she wants to.”
“Okay.” Madison crawled out of the comforter and started doing stretches and a few dance moves.
With the sun nearly down, the air took on a biting chill, even inside the abandoned restaurant. Harper looked around, figuring they had only a few minutes of light left. Though it didn’t seem likely the gang would go exploring in total darkness, she also didn’t want to chance being found while sleeping. While her little sister worked her way through a warmup routine, Harper grabbed an empty Corona bottle from a bin and relocated their possessions to a large storage closet. She set up a hasty bed of empty trash bags between two metal shelves laden with cleaning supplies.
“C’mon, Termite. It’s going to be dark any second.”
Madison scurried over. Harper shut the closet door and balanced the empty bottle on the knob. If anyo
ne opened it, the crash of it breaking would probably wake her.
“It’s dark. I can’t see anything,” said Madison, somewhere behind her.
“I know.”
Working by feel, she crawled to the ‘bed’ and rested the shotgun on the floor to her right. Madison found her way over and cuddled up beside her in the comforter, the soft puffs of her warm breath at Harper’s neck.
“Heh. We just ate burritos, now we are a burrito.”
Madison didn’t laugh, or even sigh.
Ugh. She stared into the darkness, unable to see the ceiling or the row of mops leaning against the wall behind her. Never in her life did she imagine sleeping in a restaurant closet or an alley like a homeless person. Watching those men murder her parents in the kitchen ruined her memory of the place she’d called home for her entire life. It would never feel safe again. But, beyond the end of civilization and narrowly escaping being kidnapped, her little sister’s silence worried her the most.
Her mind teased her with scenes from the past, mostly Madison smiling, laughing, or arguing with her. At that moment, she’d have been happy for even that kind of outburst. Any emotion, even bratty anger, would’ve been an improvement over the android-like nothingness that had taken over for the past three days.
Harper tried to tickle Madison’s side.
The girl didn’t squirm, protest, or even whisper ‘stop,’ merely clung a little tighter.
Since Madison couldn’t see her, Harper closed her eyes and surrendered to silent tears.
4
Hidden
Constant fidgeting woke Harper.
Madison squirmed, but remained quiet. A thin line of daylight under the door chipped away at the complete darkness of the supply closet, allowing her to make out the vague forms of metal shelving on either side. It remained too dim for her to see the bottle or the doorknob. Eager to get the hell out of Lakewood, she forced herself to wake up and fought her old habit of rolling over for another fifteen minutes of sleep.
“Hey, Termite. Morning.” Harper squeezed her a little tighter, then sat up.
“I have to pee.”
“Yeah. I do, too. Ready to get up?”
“Okay.”
Harper begrudgingly extricated herself from the comforter, grasped the shotgun, and crept to the door. The bottle remained as she’d left it, so she set it on the floor before grabbing the knob. Near blinding daylight made her squint when she peered out at the kitchen. Much to her relief, everything looked the same as she expected. The giant can of refried beans had sat out open all night, but given the temperature, it may as well have been in a fridge.
She bundled the comforter, tied it back into a bedroll, and escorted Madison to the bathroom, grateful for a dose of normal instead of going in an alley. None of the toilets had water in them, and the flush didn’t work… but she didn’t care as they’d likely never come back to this place. It would only be a matter of time before the ‘blue gang’ or someone else came here to raid the pantry. Any place that looked like it might have food would be a first target.
Though, perhaps not restaurants. It had been roughly two months since the war—if the events of about forty-five minutes could truly be called a war—so any fresh food in freezers or fridges would be spoiled by now. Grocery stores made better targets due to the vast reserves of canned or dry goods.
Despite having to go bad, Harper sat on the toilet with her head in her hands, staring down into her jeans, gathered between her feet. The shotgun dangled from the coat hook on the inside of the stall door. Her mind swam with too many worries and fears.
Amid the soft snap of flip-flops, Madison walked to stand right outside the stall.
We can’t stay here.
Focused on that thought, Harper forced her bladder empty, cleaned up, and stood. She decided to collect all the toilet paper from the six stalls afterward, carrying it in a bundle back to the kitchen. There, she put it in take-out plastic bags before making them breakfast—more burritos.
She stared at her sister while they ate. The girl poked at the dead iPhone, resting on the floor mat beside her. Madison had stopped shivering, and didn’t seem to mind the chilly weather, though looking at her bare legs made Harper feel colder. She sometimes had gone outside in November, even December wearing flip-flops, but she’d at least had long pants or leggings on.
I gotta get her some pants and real shoes while we still can.
“We’re going to stop by the mall.”
“Okay. Can we get Subway?”
Harper grimaced inside. “I don’t think they’re open.”
“That stinks. What are we shopping for?”
“You need something warmer to wear.” Harper poked her in the foot.
Madison shrugged. “I have stuff at home, but it’s dirty. Mom didn’t do laundry.”
“She was busy trying to make sure we had enough food.”
“Siri, call Mom,” said Madison.
The iPhone sat there like a brick.
Harper thought of trying to distract her by talking about something she liked, but everything she came up with from dance class to movies to video games made her too homesick to speak. It felt too much like lying to talk about any of those things, since none of them would ever exist again… well, at least not in their lifetime. While the blast didn’t harm Blu-ray discs or DVDs, it fried anything capable of playing them—not to mention the power grid. She’d never much thought about how pervasive the use of electricity had been until it went away.
A ripple of distant gunshots startled them both, though Madison didn’t make a noise.
“C’mon,” whispered Harper. “Finish eating and let’s get out of here.”
After inhaling the rest of her burrito, Harper grabbed another pack of tortillas and a second giant can of refried beans. She stuffed them into the backpack, handed Madison the plastic bag of toilet paper to carry, and grabbed the shotgun.
She went out via a door that led from the kitchen to the parking lot and headed northwest in the direction of the Colorado Mills Mall.
Madison followed close behind, head down, staring at the iPhone.
Shouts and random gunshots continued, though they came from far enough behind her that she almost allowed herself to hope they’d left the ‘blue gang’ behind. Still, she didn’t believe for an instant that those people would stay put in one area around her old neighborhood. The group of people who tried to convince Dad to leave home and go with them to Evergreen had been convinced a large number of survivors gathered there.
Dammit, Dad. Why didn’t you agree to go with them? You and Mom would both still be alive if we’d left.
A clatter made her jump and point the shotgun at a row of large plastic trashcans. Two raccoons paused their rummaging to stare at her.
“Ugh.” She slouched.
Her father had been worried about radiation from fallout and wanted to wait at least five weeks before leaving the house just to be safe. Harper knew only what she’d seen in a few movies about nuclear war, and had expected the entire world would become a radioactive deathtrap. According to Dad, the fallout decayed at an exponential rate, falling off to almost nothing after about eight weeks—except for places where the detonation occurred at ground level.
He thought we might get sick and die from fallout, but he died to bastards.
Two tears fell on the Mossberg. Dad had given it to her so she could help defend their home… and she’d failed. A man pulled a gun on her and she simply stared at him like a terrified child, not a seventeen-year-old with a little sister to protect.
She replayed that moment over and over in her mind as she walked among abandoned houses. The ash snow kept falling, though slower. She looked out at the smoky haze, wondering if it would ever go away. Based on the smell in the air, some places still had to be burning. The farther south one went in Lakewood, the more burned everything looked. Her former home had been lucky, tucked away in an L-shaped street with two other, larger, houses shadowing it from the nuc
lear glow.
Of course, other houses didn’t stop a giant chunk of concrete from punching a hole in her bedroom ceiling. Fortunately, the whole family had been in the basement when that happened.
Harper went to take a right at the corner, but stopped short at the sight of a dead body sprawled on the sidewalk. He appeared Asian, later thirties, and had evidently been beaten to death with pipes or bats.
She started to cry out in disgust, but stifled the urge and backed up into Madison.
“What?” her sister looked up from the blank iPhone.
“We can’t go this way.” Harper put an arm around her sister, keeping the girl’s face against her chest while scurrying by the corpse.
Madison didn’t protest, or even ask why.
Her little sister always asked ‘why,’ and the absence of protest worried Harper.
The soft pop-pop-pop of flip-flops provided a constant background accompaniment to distant gunshots, screams of pain, or shouts of aggression. Madison occasionally whispered to Siri, asking her to call Mom, Dad, or one of her friends.
She took the next right turn onto a residential street, all the houses, lawns, and cars coated in a dusting of grey ash like a morbid snow globe. Except for the smoke making it difficult to see much past about thirty feet, the scene before her resembled a Colorado Christmas card. Most of the driveways here appeared empty, which likely meant the vehicles that belonged to them sat abandoned on highways somewhere. No one had enough warning to evacuate before the bombardment, so she figured these people had gone to work early.
Out on the road when the blast came. They’re probably all dead.
Sudden rapid footsteps echoed out of the fog ahead.
Harper grabbed Madison by the hand and rushed to the right, entering a front yard with waist-high hedges. She hunkered down behind the shrub wall, a white-knuckled grip on the shotgun, and peered past the tiny leaves at the road beyond.
“Stop!” shouted a man.
Evergreen Page 3
