by Ned Sahin
“I feel fine,” he says. His skin is paler and dark spots start to appear under his eyes.
Chapter 22
We are walking on the highway.
Since we don’t have any food or water with us, we scavenge abandoned cars to survive. Apart from some nuts and a small bottle of water, we haven’t been fortunate so far.
We debated the idea of walking back to Weldon Springs to find the Centaur. The comfort, speed, and safety of our doomsday truck would make this trip a lot easier. Walking back for two days would be worth it if we found the truck, but this is too much risk to take. There might be elderly Ricas still in town. Even if the town is deserted, the truck may not be there after all. We have decided to continue walking West. There is no going back.
Toshi is using Oxyrica now. It is suppressing the deathly effects of the virus. His skin color looks normal and there is no longer any darkness under his eye. From his appearance, you can’t tell if he has the virus. The pills we took from Harold’s house should be enough to last at least a week.
I hope the antidepressants will continue to keep him as a human. It worked for those elderly. I don’t see why it shouldn’t work for him.
Kathleen and I always keep an eye on him. If he starts showing signs of aggressiveness, we plan to tie his hands with his belt and drag him with us to somewhere we can get help from. I know there’s a remote possibility of finding a healthcare facility to help him. Even when the healthcare system was fully functional five months ago, the doctors couldn’t find any way to cure patients except with the controversial drug Oxyrica, which turned millions of people into ferocious beings.
No matter how he reacts to the virus, I am not going to hurt my best friend in any way. I have already lost Mr. Burke and Valeria’s mom, Yolanda. Just like Toshi, they both did me a favor without expecting anything in return.
I wonder what the Hernandez family is doing now. I hope Miguel, Valeria, and Diego were able to get far away from Saviors. Most of the East Coast is controlled by them but there must be rural locations that are still untouched.
“Do you guys think what I am thinking right now?” Toshi says as he points to the food truck ahead of us.
“Oh, I’m glad that I am not hallucinating!” Kathleen says. We barely had food and water since the church fight yesterday. Our brain acts out intermittently because of hunger and dehydration.
This is one of those trucks I used to see in downtown back in the good days. There was a fountain in a park with food trucks parked around it to serve hungry white-collar workers at lunchtime. Hundreds of people would get out of office buildings to take a break from corporate life. I used to join the crowd with my colleagues on Fridays. Seeing other men in suits and women in dresses always made me feel better by thinking that I am not the only one following the 9 to 5 life.
This time, there are no fancy men or women around. There's only me, Kathleen, and Toshi in dirty t-shirts and jeans. The truck still looks intriguing, though. Those quesadilla and taco pictures on the exterior make my stomach rumble.
Kathleen and I walk to the driver’s side while Toshi goes for the passenger side. Aiming at the driver side window, I place an arrow and stretch the bow. Kathleen is carrying the shotgun even though there are no bullets left. Toshi still has his hammer.
As we get closer to the truck, I hear something hitting the walls of the food cabin. We pause and listen to the sound. It stops. I sign Toshi to proceed.
Once we take a few more steps, we hear the same growling sound again. This time it’s louder. I am now familiar with this frightening noise. It’s a Rica.
If he’s been trapped inside this long, he shouldn’t be able to get out now. We should be safe.
We slowly approach the driver side door by keeping a few feet distance between us and the vehicle. I see a man’s head leaning on the steering wheel. Toshi looks inside through the window on the other side of the truck. There is nobody on the passenger side.
It looks like these fellas decided to escape from the city. The noisy guy in the back probably chose to have the drug to fight against the virus. After he had run out of the drug and become a Rica, his buddy must have decided to lock him up in the back.
I get closer to the window to look through inside. I don’t see food or water. I can’t see the floor, but I don’t want to open the door where this infected guy is resting. We walk around the truck to meet Toshi on the other side. I lower the bow.
“What do you think?” Kathleen asks.
“I think it’s worth checking out what they have in the back,” I say. Following a well-thought plan, three of us should be able to take the Rica down before he even gets close to us.
The curtain on the little window of the food cabin is rolled down from inside. It’s impossible to see through it, though.
We walk to the rear door. Kathleen grabs the door handle with one hand while holding the shotgun on the other hand. Toshi positions on the opposite side of the door with the hammer in his hand. I stand a few yards away across the door with the bow ready to release.
The Rica inside seems to feel what is about to happen. He thumps on the door with a shrill groan.
“Ready?” I ask.
“Always!” Kathleen says.
“Let’s do it!” Toshi says. I wonder if it will be worth it to put ourselves in danger by opening the door. There is one way to find it out.
“Now!” I say.
As soon as Kathleen opens the door, a young woman with long red hair and a breakout of reddish holes on her face. I don’t know why I assumed the Rica inside was a man. The gender wasn’t what shocked me, though. It was what I saw when I lowered my eyes down to her waist. She is pregnant or was.
I hesitate to release the bow. She jumps off the truck, taking advantage of my hesitation.
Kathleen hides behind the open door. The Rica turns to Toshi. I release the arrow but miss. I pull another arrow from my belt and place it on the bow. Toshi tries to defend himself with the hammer but the pregnant woman already wrapped her arms around him. I can’t target her head. She is too close to Toshi.
I shoot the second arrow to her chest. It hits her abdomen. She looks down the arrow for a moment. Then she turns her head to me. Her eyes are blazing, and she looks at me as if asking why I did that to her.
Kathleen leverages the woman’s distracted moment and pulls on her shirt. She falls on her back. I get the last arrow ready to shoot, but she stands back up and stares right into my eyes with her bloody eyeballs. With her red hair, red holes on her skin, glowing eyes, and blood around her belly, she looks like a starving zombie coming for our lives.
I release the last arrow. It destroys her skull right in the center of her forehead. The arrow leaves her head and sticks into the back wall of the food cabin.
“You okay?” Kathleen asks Toshi. She checks his body for any wounds.
“Yes… I think…so.” Toshi tries to catch his breath.
I feel like I let him down one more time. “I am sorry. I hesitated when I saw she is pregnant,” I say.
“I hesitated too...” Kathleen says.
Toshi ignores our apologies. He turns his head to the truck. “Let’s see what she was protecting in the truck,” he says. He climbs in the cabin as Kathleen opens the other half of the door to let more sunlight in. I get closer to see inside better.
There is grilling equipment with some utensils and empty plastic bags around. I see lime juice and salsa bottles on the counter. Toshi takes one of the salsa bottles and tries to weigh it. After he is convinced that it is not empty, he opens the cap and pours it in his mouth. He turns to us smiling.
“It’s not bad at all,” he says. He throws the bottle to Kathleen. She takes a few sips and gives it to me.
Salsa helps us to get some extra calories, but it makes us more thirsty. We check every drawer and container in the truck. The only liquid left, apart from the lime juice, is canola oil. I am not sure if it was worth risking our liv
es by opening the rear door.
I consider going for the alternative source of water that every human can produce. I once watched a guy in Hawaii drinking his urine in a reality TV show. After all, urine is 95 percent water. It also contains nutrients, such as folic acid, iron, magnesium, and zinc. It may help us survive until we find a better quality of water. They say that drinking the unfiltered urine of a healthy person can keep someone alive for two days.
A car driving toward us wakes me up from my daydream about alternative water sources.
We get out of the truck and stand there looking at the car approaching us. It’s an old blue sedan. I can’t see the people inside.
“Is that help or new trouble?” Kathleen asks.
I collect the arrows and place one of them in the bow. We take cover in front of the food truck and wait for the sedan. They must have seen us already. There is no need to try hiding.
The car pulls over a few yards from the truck. A wacky-looking guy with long messy hair extending over his beer belly and an older lady in hippie clothes get off the car and look at us with a wide smile.
“Mellow out, friends! I am Rowan. This beautiful lady is Harmony,” the guy says. I am not sure if this is a hallucination. I glance at Kathleen and Toshi.
“You see what I am seeing too?” I ask. They nod and smile.
“How y’all doing?” Harmony asks. She extends her arms out like she wants to hug us. Despite wearing a tulip print mask, the wrinkles on her forehead and gray hair reveal she's at least in her fifties. The guy looks at least ten years younger than her.
“Who are you?” I ask.
“We are the flower children!” the guy says laughing. He opens his arms too.
What the heck is flower children?
“Hippies…” Kathleen says. She read my mind.
The lady holds her breath for a moment like she has just got an idea.
She goes back to the car and comes back with two bottles of water. Seeing the shiny water flowing in those bottles, I lose my guard and unintentionally lower the bow.
“You must be thirsty. The sun’s been trippy today,” Harmony says. She has gotten our attention now.
Toshi steps forward to get the bottles from her. The guy raises his hand like a stop sign.
“Whoa, buddy. Where is your mask?” Rowan asks.
“Lost it,” Toshi says.
“He is not sick, don’t worry,” I say. I heard that people who use Oxyrica no longer can spread the virus through air. So, they should be safe. He may still spread it through contact to body fluids though.
“If you say so.” Rowan smiles again.
Toshi takes the bottles. He gives one of them to Kathleen. He drinks about half of the other bottle. He attempts to give the bottle to me but pauses halfway, remembering he is infected.
I don’t know what to do. If I drink from it, I take a risk of getting the virus. If I don’t drink it, they may figure something is wrong with him.
Kathleen comes to rescue. She gives her a bottle to me before Toshi gets any closer.
“You first, my lord,” she says with a sarcastic voice. Her reference to my favorite TV show that was all about kings and queens might drag the hippies’ minds away from the virus.
“Thank you, my lady!” I take the bottle from her.
“Well, I hope your kingdom is as peaceful as our village, Purple Haze,” Rowan says.
“We’ve been looking for new friends. Come join us!” Harmony says.
The last time we got an offer like this, the people of the town ended up chasing us to put an end to our lives. I don’t trust these hippies no matter how friendly they are and how cheerful their look is. But I know that we won’t be able to survive long on our own without supplies and a vehicle.
I share a look with Kathleen and Toshi. They seem to be leaning toward accepting the offer. We don’t really have an option. I turn back and smile at the couple.
“Jump in the car! We have some orange sunshine in the back if you want,” Rowan says. I have no idea what he is talking about, but I feel like I will find it out soon.
We sit in the back seat. Rowan drives slowly with his left arm out of the window as it flows against the wind. Harmony pushes a CD inside the music player. The voice of a guy with an apparent love for San Francisco resonates throughout the car.
“Enjoy the ride while you are on it!” Rowan says, looking at us in the rear-view mirror.
I see little Ziplocs of something orange inside. They look like biscuits with orange bubbles on them. Even though I’ve barely eaten since yesterday, I am not planning to try out this orange thing. I hope they have something else to eat at Purple Haze. What kind of place is that anyway?
Chapter 23
We approach Purple Haze after about twenty minutes of the ride.
The gate of this small town looks like a Chinatown entrance except for the absence of a dragon figure. Instead of a dragon, there is a figure of a dude with a beard and long hair smoking and sitting on top of the wide-open gate. On both sides of the figure, a variety of colorful fabric waves with the flow of the wind.
Behind the gate, the stores on both sides of the street have street art on their walls. Several people are sitting on the sidewalk or beach chairs while eating, drinking, and singing along to a melody an elderly male is playing on his hand drum.
There are rainbow flags, hammocks, and even a Volkswagen van with love and peace signs on it. The phrase “NO NUKES IS GOOD NUKES” between the front and rear tires make me chuckle. Perhaps they couldn’t guess that a virus would mess up the world instead of nukes.
Rowan slowly drives through the street. The colors change tone and shape as the sun goes down, painting the entire street with hues of orange and red. This place looks like heaven right in the center of the post-apocalyptic world.
Just like me, Toshi and Kathleen also seem to be mesmerized by the vibrant look, soothing smell, and rhythmic sound around us. Everything on this little street looks unreal. I feel like I’ve been transported to Haight Street in San Francisco about a decade ago.
Noticing the masks on everyone’s face brings me back to reality.
“We heard that Herington Rebels are looting the small towns. You must be lucky,” I say to Rowan. I remember the couple we encountered in the Church. If the rebels they mentioned went that far for looting, there is no way they missed this colorful and noisy town near the highway.
“They don’t care about us,” Rowan says.
“They respect our life, as we do theirs,” Harmony adds. It’s hard to believe it. One thing I know about mobs and gangs is that they don’t respect anything except money and power.
Rowan parks the car in front of a clothing store named Hippie Gypsy. We get out of the car while a young woman comes out of the store. She has long blonde hair with colorful beads and a white band mixed with red flowers. Her blue dress embroidered with white and green leaves goes below her knees, completing her fit look with sandals matching her red lipstick.
“Hello, Sunshine!” Rowan says, hugging the woman.
“Right on time for dinner!” the woman says.
Rowan turns to us. “Let me introduce you to my daughter, Sunshine!”
“Hi, I’m Toshi,” he says with a big smile.
“I’m Matt,” I say raising my hand.
“Hi,” Kathleen says. She doesn’t seem too happy to meet Sunshine. Maybe it’s the blonde woman’s photogenic look. It’s complicated to figure out. At least Kathleen won’t fall for the kindness this time.
“Pleasure meeting you all, friends! Lucky you, I cooked more than we need today,” Sunshine says with her eyes reflecting her excitement for meeting new people.
“Let’s get inside. I know you are hungry,” Harmony says and winks at us. We follow them inside their clothing store.
We go upstairs and sit around a table lit up with candles and a lava lamp. A soothing smell fills the room. I breathe it in while listening to the
rhythmic hand drums coming from the open window.
Sunshine brings a big pot of food and divides it into plates. There is tofu with onions and spinach cooked in a tomato base. She adds white rice to each plate and garnishes them with cilantro. Then she puts a lemon slice and a piece of bread that looks fresh out of the oven. She fills up glasses with green juice, and I can't help but watch in amazement. I think I'm starting to have feelings for her.
If this is what they eat during an apocalypse, I wonder what they were eating before the outbreak.
She sits next to me. Kathleen and Toshi are on the other side. Rowan and Harmony are sitting at the short edges of the table.
I think about how careless we were in Weldon Springs. We got drugged by the elderly and chained in a warehouse. I try to be more cautious this time, but I decide to let my guard off after seeing Sunshine using the same pot and pitcher to serve food and drinks for everybody. If there is something in the food or drink that is not supposed to be there, they will consume them as well.
Without further thoughts, I wolf down my plate. Toshi and Kathleen do the same. We didn’t have much to eat in the last three days.
Once we are halfway through our meals, I realize that Rowan hasn’t touched his yet. It looks like he is enjoying watching us.
“No rush, folks. You have all the time you need,” he says before topping his spoon with rice and tomato base. He doesn’t know that we poured salsa in our mouths to stop starving a few hours ago. Harmony and Sunshine chuckle looking at us before continuing their dinner.
I take a sip of the juice. I expected it to taste like a vegetable smoothie, but it tasted more like yogurt. I keep it in my mouth longer to figure out what it is made of.
“Do you like it?” Sunshine asks. From the way she asks, I feel it’s some kind of a cocktail she is proud of making. I swallow it and let it go down before telling her my opinion.
“Nothing like I have ever tasted! It has a taste of yogurt drink, but there is a tasty flavor I can’t figure out what it is,” I say.
