“I missed dance class again. Mom’s gonna be mad at me.” Madison trudged onward, staring down at the road. “I hope the plugs work where we’re going so I can charge my phone.”
“We have our own dance class.” Jonathan grinned at her. “We can practice whenever you want.”
Madison looked up. She didn’t smile, but she’d gone from glum to blank.
“I suppose one good thing came out of this war.” Cliff paused again to pop the trunk on a Cadillac.
Summer gasped. “What could possibly be good about this?”
Cliff chuckled. “Won’t be any stupid people becoming famous only because they’re famous for a long damn time.”
“Seriously?” Summer stared at him. “Like millions of people died and you’re making a celebrity joke?”
“Gotta laugh at stuff or it’ll drive you nuts.” Cliff stared into the trunk for a moment, then slammed it with a disappointed sigh.
“Won’t be anyone complaining about what’s on coffee cups at Christmas,” said Harper.
“Or going crazy on Black Friday.” Jonathan punched at the air.
“Or 24-7 media blitzes whenever someone famous dies.” Cliff shut the Caddy’s door while walking past it and continuing along the road.
Summer sighed. “Or Hollywood constantly remaking the same movies over and over.”
“They won’t make new ones, either,” added Madison a little over a whisper.
“Or books.” Harper sighed. “People have a lot more important things to worry about than movies, TV, or telling stories.”
“I dunno.” Summer kicked at a small rock, sending it skittering off the side of the highway. “Even like Native Americans told stories. They didn’t write them down, but I think stories are important. People need them.”
Cliff started laughing.
“What about that is funny?” asked Summer.
“I used to work at a mall. Linda and Jeff at the bookstore argued all the time about e-books and physical books, which one’s better.” He snickered. “Guess that question finally got answered. Paper doesn’t care about EMP.”
“Did the whole country go dark?” Harper glanced off to the left at a Walmart building. The front doors hung open. Ugh. Probably looted already. “Is everything shot?”
“A lot of military-grade stuff is shielded. Wouldn’t be surprised if there’s still stuff on bases here and there. Older devices without solid-state electronics and some appliances like washing machines are probably okay, but the power grid’s toast—so it’s irrelevant. Maybe some stuff in basements survived, too. Being turned on makes something more susceptible, but all it takes is one diode burning out in something like a cell phone to kill it. Might be able to get something going small scale with a generator, but fuel’s an issue. Not sure if those things will run on ethanol, but I don’t have a still.”
“Cars?” asked Summer.
Harper glanced up and left at a self-storage place atop a hill near the road. She wondered if it would be worth checking out, but they didn’t exactly have the means to carry much more stuff.
“Older cars without electronic ignition or computer control would probably still work. If they rely on digital technology or electronic fuel injection, fair bet they’re useless. ’Course, even if we found a working car, gasoline would run out fast. Stuff rots in a couple months.”
“What about food? That’s more important than cars.” Harper slung the shotgun over her shoulder to give her arms a break. “Not like anyone’s gotta commute to the day job.”
Cliff and Summer laughed.
“Canned goods for now. But we’ll need to either farm, hunt, or take extreme measures.” Cliff flashed a scary-eyed smile.
“Not sure I want to know what you mean by that,” said Harper, her voice quivering.
“Heh. Not talking about cannibalism. I meant survivalist stuff. Eating worms, bugs, certain mushrooms, weeds, that sort of thing.”
“Eww!” said Madison.
Jonathan gagged.
Summer looked about ready to faint.
“If you get hungry enough, even a bug will look tasty.” Cliff winked.
Harper shuddered. “I’d have to be very damn hungry to go that far.”
“Well, let’s hope what you heard about this place is true. I’m not too keen on that idea either. Grubs are kinda nasty. If you ever do have to eat one, make sure you close your mouth or the guts will burst out and go everywhere. Best to fire-roast them so they’re not still squirming when you try to eat them.”
Harper grabbed her mouth to hold back the urge to throw up.
Everyone more or less lost the urge to talk at the same time. The road led past rocky hills on the left dotted with trees. A ten-foot beige fence ran along the right side, separating the road from a sharp downhill grade. Tree-covered hills continued as far as Harper could see. The scenery would’ve been beautiful if not for the dread of surviving nuclear war hanging on her shoulders.
“It’s getting dark.” Jonathan pointed up.
“I thought you said this was only gonna take like six hours to walk.” Harper sighed at the dimming sky behind them.
“We haven’t exactly been hurrying.” Cliff tilted his head at her. “Late for an appointment?”
She managed a nervous smile. “No, just tired of worrying if I’ve made Evergreen out to be this oasis of hope and it’s going to be abandoned.”
“Better abandoned than full of bastards,” muttered Summer.
Jonathan flapped his arms. “At least there’s no smoke here.”
Cliff slowed when something to the left caught his attention. He moved to the side of the road, taking a few steps onto dirt. “Hey. Let’s check that out. We should get in out of the cold before it gets too dark.”
Harper moved up to stand beside him. Maybe 200 feet from the road, a large brown building stood at the far end of a field at the bottom of a hill. The lack of windows kinda made it look like a prison. A nearby basketball court—and the lack of barb-wire fencing around the place—suggested school instead. Either way, it appeared empty and the sky would be dark fairly soon.
“Okay.” Harper waved Madison and Jonathan over. “Might as well. Looks quiet.”
15
Vulnerable
Cliff led the way down the hill. He took a tool from his belt to snip a hole in a wire fence about halfway between the road and the building. A set of green double doors refused to open, so he headed left and went around toward the basketball court.
Apparently, they’d approached from the back of the building. The main entrance on the opposite side indicated they’d reached Bergen Valley Elementary.
Madison wailed, “Oh, no!”
“What?” Harper jumped, scrambling to get the shotgun off her shoulder and bring it into a ready grip.
“They didn’t blow up the schools!” Madison’s eyes widened.
Jonathan laughed. “Is that bad?”
“Yeah! That means we’re gonna get in trouble for not going,” whispered Madison.
“It’s still closed.” Cliff tested the doors, seeming surprised when they opened. “Hello? Anyone here?”
Everyone kept quiet until the echo of his shout faded to silence.
“We’re friendly,” yelled Cliff.
Again, his voice echoed into silence.
With a shrug, he entered.
Harper followed, a little sick to her stomach at the idea of walking in here with a loaded shotgun after all the active shooter drills she’d been through at her old school. Despite there having been a nuclear war, she felt like she did something super wrong.
Cliff grumbled, “Glad they hit the button so damn early in the day.”
“Why?” asked Madison. “So we got a day off of school?”
He bowed his head and sighed. “Yeah, basically. Families were together.”
At least on the West Coast. Harper bit her lip, not wanting to say it and hating herself for thinking it. Somehow, she doubted the people responsible for sending nu
kes at the US cared at all if children would be with their families, on the road to school, or at school when the weapons detonated. If they cared at all about children, they wouldn’t have hit the button. The silence inside this place made her dwell on horribly sad thoughts about what might’ve happened to all the kids who should’ve been here—or in any school in the world. Little kids didn’t deserve to wonder if they would live to see another day, be able to eat at all—or cling to a dead iPhone hoping to receive a call from their dead parents.
Overcome, Harper sank down to one knee, grabbed Madison, and cried. Upon noticing Jonathan standing nearby watching them, she grabbed him into the hug as well.
“My dad worked nights.” Jonathan stared off into nowhere, his voice low but calm. “I haven’t seen him since the bombs went off. He’s probably dead because he worked in Colorado Springs.”
Cliff winced.
Harper squeezed him tighter. Jonathan clung to her, sniffling.
“Yeah,” whispered Summer. “Nothing’s sadder than an abandoned school after a big-ass war.”
Cliff kept quiet, allowing everyone a minute or two to recover.
Eventually, she forced the tears back and swung the shotgun over her shoulder on its strap, then took the kids by the hand. “We’re not going to be able to see anything in a little while. Let’s find a spot to sleep and maybe food.”
They walked by empty classrooms, making their way to the cafeteria. Dead freezers and refrigerators held a horror of mold and spoiled food. After an inglorious feast of dry cereal and chocolate pudding from a giant can, they made camp in a classroom that had padded mats at one side for a nap area. Judging by the tiny size of the chairs, they’d found the kindergarten.
Harper recognized a device hanging on the wall by the door as a thing to barricade it from the inside. Though it had been intended to stop a school shooter, it would also work on people who went insane after nuclear war. She braced the door with it, and let out a sigh of relief at feeling somewhat safe.
“I gotta go to the bathroom.” Madison approached, clutching a roll of toilet paper.
“Ugh.” Harper pulled the lock off the door. “Okay. Not a bad idea.”
Cliff and Summer also decided to hit the bathrooms. It had become dark enough that she needed to feel her way along the wall. Harper didn’t mind the small toilets or tiny stalls, since they worked. Upon returning to the classroom, she replaced the door lock and spent the next few minutes fumbling around in the moonlight to help Cliff set up the sleeping bags.
“You had third watch last night. You want first this time?” asked Cliff.
Harper pointed at the door. “No need. That door isn’t opening without high explosives. They had one of those emergency brace things for school shootings.”
Cliff rubbed his beard. “Hmm.” He got up and went over to the door, examined it for a moment, and gave an impressed grunt. “Okay. Seems solid. No one’s getting through that without waking us up.”
Though Harper felt funky spending a couple days in the same clothes, she didn’t feel safe enough to take off more than her sneakers. Jonathan stripped down to his briefs and crawled into his sleeping bag. Madison took only her sneakers off as well, then dragged her sleeping bag close to Harper and burritoed herself in it.
A cozy sleeping bag on top of a soft mat with a winter coat for a pillow made for a surprisingly comfortable bed.
Harper struggled to get away from the two men holding her by the arms.
Plastic ties bound her wrists behind her back, she had no idea where her pants or shoes had gone, and worst of all—Madison screamed for help from somewhere off in the haze where a group of shadowy figures dragged a smaller figure away.
The man on the left slapped Harper on her bare butt, laughing. “Come on, Red. Time to have some fun.”
“Help!” shouted Madison, sounding too far away.
“No!” roared Harper.
She twisted to the left and rammed her knee into one man’s groin. He doubled over, groaning. The other man grabbed her hair, but she kicked at him in a furious barrage until he lost his grip. Lost to panic, Harper ran as fast as she could down the street. Inches-thick ash made the ground feel like clouds, and muted any noise her bare feet might have made on the pavement.
A few shots rang out behind her, but none hit her. Barely able to resist screaming, she ran heedless of fear she’d fall and break her face open with her hands tied behind her back.
Buildings from downtown Lakewood blurred by on both sides, simultaneously alien and familiar. Shouting men pursued her, driving her up to a blind sprint. Her hair fell over her eyes, but she couldn’t reach up to grab it. Again and again, she took random turns down alleys or cross streets, trying to put as many buildings between her and the thugs as possible.
Her legs protested after a few minutes, slowing her to a belabored loping walk. The shouts of the men chasing her had stopped who knows how long ago. Harper rounded a corner into a narrow passage between two stores, scurrying into a hiding place behind a dumpster.
Madison’s desperate pleas echoed in her mind, bringing sobbing tears at her inability to do anything to protect her sister. She stared down at her pale legs, unable to remember who ripped her pants off. Grunting, she strained to snap the plastic around her wrists, spinning in search of anything she could use to cut herself free.
With each passing second, her terror grew. Lost somewhere in the city, unable to see more than fifteen feet due to the smoke, naked from the waist down, her hands bound behind her… Harper had no way to even find Madison much less get her away from the gang. If anyone caught her like this, she’d be in major trouble.
Part of her wanted to run and keep running, but she refused to abandon Madison. Despite her absolute need to protect her little sister, she couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense of vulnerability gnawing at her. She walked down the alley, looking for a signpost or bit of glass or knife—anything she might use to get her hands free.
With each step in the soft ash, her sense of helplessness grew. Worse, she knew she’d be too late to stop them from doing awful things to Madison. Her sister would already have suffered permanent damage and would never be the same… even if she could find her.
But she couldn’t.
Harper fell to her knees, bawling, thrashing at the cable ties, but they refused to snap.
Men emerged from the haze. She scooted back, though they kept walking toward her, faceless silhouettes laughing at her helplessness. The instant a hand closed on her ankle, Harper screamed—and snapped awake.
She found herself still wrapped up to the neck in a sleeping bag on the floor of a kindergarten classroom, breathing hard and covered in sweat. Harper stared up at the ceiling tiles, unable to tell if she’d screamed for real or only in her nightmare. Still zipped in the bag, she sat up, grabbing at her lower half to make sure she still had her jeans.
The padded mat creaked nearby.
Harper jumped and spun with a gasp.
Cliff took a knee beside her and whispered, “Hey… easy. You just had a dream.”
She stared at him.
“Must’ve been a doozy. You okay?”
Harper shoved her arms out of the sleeping bag and clamped onto him, shaking like a terrified child while crying as quietly as she could manage. He shifted back to sit on the floor mat and put an arm around her. She clung to him, beyond grateful that she’d decided to trust him in the mall. He rubbed a hand up and down her back, letting her cry. When she’d seen Madison so engrossed in Cliff’s story, she’d been momentarily angry with her as if she’d forgotten Dad. But he’d died. She couldn’t be mad at Madison for liking Cliff, especially now. Having him there did make her feel safer, almost like her father was still there.
“You wanna talk about it?” whispered Cliff.
She took a few breaths, then relaxed her hug, leaning against him instead of clinging for dear life. “It’s my fault.”
“What’s your fault? Having a nightmare?”
Harper shook her head. “My Dad died because I couldn’t shoot a guy. Those guys with the blue sashes attacked us at home. I was supposed to watch the front door. Dad covered the patio door in the kitchen. A guy came in the front. He was gonna grab me, but when he saw the shotgun, he pointed his gun at me. I couldn’t pull the trigger. I… just couldn’t kill someone. Dad shot the guy, but when he turned toward me, another asshole shot him from behind. It’s my fault.” She buried her face in her hands and sniffled.
“Hey… enough of that.” Cliff rubbed her back. “Two months ago, you were just a high school kid. The world changed out from under you. You’re a lot tougher than you think.”
Harper wiped her face on her sleeves. “I don’t feel tough. A nightmare scared the crap out of me.”
“You’re protecting your little sister, your family. A nightmare’s only in here.” He tapped her on the head. “What matters is what you do out there. You didn’t hesitate when it mattered. Those guys went after Maddie, you let ’em have it. There’s no way your father would be upset with a seventeen-year-old kid for freezing up the first time they stared down the barrel of a gun. Hell, I’ve seen guys who went through boot camp, AIT, months out in a combat zone… some of them even lock up. It happens. You’re a human being. But, you beat it already. You kept her safe.”
“I got a li’l brother now, too.” Harper took a deep breath, held it a few seconds, and let it out her nose. “Just a bad dream. Faceless men got Maddie, and I couldn’t stop them.” She stopped breathing, dreading that he’d ask why her face burned with blush.
Cliff nodded. “Just a dream.”
“I felt so helpless.” She wiped her nose. “I dunno how to fight at all. If I lose that shotgun or run out of ammo, I’m gonna be a defenseless kid.”
He ruffled her hair. “I can show you some moves once we aren’t walking all day. Picked up a few things in Ranger School. Now, go on back to sleep. Enjoy a night not needin’ to have watch.”
“Okay.” She exhaled hard and lay back down. Even the few minutes she’d spent with her arms outside the sleeping bag made her cold. She snuggled back in, pulling the fabric up to her face.
Evergreen Page 12
