Nora laughed.
“What? What’s so funny?” Jason returned to the table hiding his items from Nora’s sight.
“Well, don’t take this the wrong way. Maybe it was better when you were standing before a huge congregation or something.”
“Better?”
“Yeah, more moving.”
“I’ll have you know, I was a great orator for God.”
“I’m sure. Plus, the way you look probably captured the female audience.”
“Oh, yeah?” Jason smiled. “All marketing, make up, hair designers and so forth. I was not all that before the network found me.”
“Well, I’m looking at you now at your worse and you’re still pretty cute.” She winked. “You can sing, too. Oh my God, can you sing well.”
“Thanks.”
“The song got a message out more than the words.”
“Okay. Okay. I get it. You were bored. But you wanted to see what I did. I preached and sang the word of God. And while we’re critiquing …”
Nora groaned. “You didn’t laugh.”
“Not saying you weren’t funny before all this, it’s just that your routine isn’t funny now. I mean I can see how the Starbucks rant would have been funny when there was a Starbucks.”
“That’s true. Part of being a good comedian is making people laugh at things they can relate to. It’s hard to relate to an overcrowded Starbucks when we’re the last people around. Although whenever I did a Starbucks bit, I killed it. People laughed.”
“I bet.”
“So I’ll just work on new material. I have a captured audience.”
“I look forward to it.” Jason dealt the cards. “Ready?”
“Ready.” Without showing reaction, Nora turned over her cards. She looked at them and laid one card down. “I’ll take one.”
“One? Wow. Okay. I’ll take three.” Jason dealt out the replacement cards. “Go on.”
“I’ll bet … one Cheez It.” She put the small cheese cracker in the middle of the table.
“For a person who got only one card, you aren’t confident. I’ll see your Cheez It with a Pretzel and raise you one Raisinette.”
“You realize if you lose you have to put one of those in your mouth.”
Jason touched the chocolate covered raisin. “It’s still soft.”
“Ok, I’ll add a peanut butter cracker.” She pushed it forward.
“Call it. What do you have?”
“Pair of kings.”
“Pair of kings? If you had a pair of kings why did you only take one card?”
“To psych you out.”
“Didn’t work. Three Jacks.”
Nora groaned as Jason gloated and swept the goodies his way. He stared at them. “Because you put it down there. I choose the Cheez It.” He handed the tiny orange cracker to her.
“Amazing it looks fresh.”
“No, it’s discolored. Eat it.”
Nora cringed. Under the rules of the game, she had to put it in her mouth, chew it or try to chew it once and then after an obvious taste of it, spit it out. No investigating was required. “Here. Goes. I used to love these.”
Jason watched.
Nora placed the cracker in her mouth, fought to get one bite, cringed, gagged a little then spit it out in the cup. “Taste like cardboard.”
Jason laughed and handed her the deck. “Your deal.”
Nora proceeded to shuffle the cards. “So … I got a joke. First in the new line up. Let me know what you think.”
“Go on. I’m excited.”
“What did the nuclear war survivor say to her boyfriend?”
“Nuclear war survivor?”
“Yeah, relatable material. We’re in a like dystopian world, so end of the world jokes.”
“Oh my God. Okay, I’m game. What did she say to her boyfriend?”
Nora dealt out the cards. “You’re the bomb.”
“That’s terrible.”
“No it’s not. You smiled.”
“No, I didn’t.’ Jason shook his head. “And I’m good.”
“No cards?”
“Nope.”
“I’ll take four.”
“Four huh?” Jason raised an eyebrow.
Nora gave herself four cards. “Go on.”
“Five raisinettes.”
“Wow. Starting high. I’ll take them with five cheese crackers and raise you one Twinkie.”
“I fold.”
“You fold? You can’t fold. If you fold I win the hand and you have to eat something.”
“I fold.”
“Fine. I had nothing.” She tossed her cards down and lifted the raisin. “And because I’m nice.” She handed it to him. “This is for you. Chomp.”
“After that bad joke, I suppose this will be less painful.” He placed it in his mouth, paused and his eyes widened. “Holy Cow. Unreal. These are really good.”
“Seriously?” Nora asked.
“I don’t know how. Are there more boxes in the machine?” He took two more.
“For real?”
Jason nodded.
Nora excitedly took one and put it in her mouth. The second she did, her eyes watered and she immediately shot it from her mouth into the cup, grunting.
Jason laughed and spit out his candy.
“Asshole!” She yelled. “What the hell?” She reached across the table and grabbed his bottle of vodka. “How did you do that without puking?”
“I just thought of that horrible joke. It was worth it.”
She grunted again and slid the bottle then the cards to him.
“Have to admit, I got you.” Jason shuffled the deck.
“You got me. And I got another one.”
Jason moaned.
“What do you call a happy apocalypse survivor wandering the earth?”
“I give up. What?”
“A nomad.”
Silence.
“Get it?” she asked. “Nomad. No … mad.”
“I get it. I get it.” After a couple seconds, he laughed and dealt the cards.
<><><><>
It used to be a strip mall. One of those long, sometimes ‘L’ shaped places filled with shops. That was the nearest John could figure. The Subway was part of it. Another part of the mall was gone, destroyed and Ana brought John and Meredith to the Swirls Frozen Yogurt for the night.
After being with the Wreckers for hours, John finally stopped feeling so badly about how he behaved. Actually, it took a sick stranger to quiet him down and believe those who were their hosts were not those who attacked them.
The stranger was part of a Genesis Project but not the one at Marshal. John wanted more than anything to find out about the man, but the man didn’t say anything but two words.
He woke up, saw John, and said, “Thank God.” And then closed his eyes and died.
Was he alone, a sole survivor? Or did he fraction off like John’s group, looking for answers, for family?
John was alone at the yogurt place while Meredith attended to Bada. Another Wrecker woman brought them blankets, showed him how to use the small indoor fire pit for light and heat, and gave him two plates of food.
He didn’t know what the substance was. It smelled good, but was it safe to eat?
Finally, Meredith returned, she looked exhausted.
“How is he?” John asked.
“He seems to be doing better. The fever broke.”
“That’s good.”
“His father is not doing well,” Meredith said.
“And Ana?”
“Sick, but holding up a front for her family.”
“Like most mothers.”
Meredith sat down on the floor next to John and faced the small fire. “Food?”
“Yes, someone brought us food and a beverage. But I’m not sure if it is safe to eat.” John showed her the substance. It looked like a stew. The eating utensil was a spoon carved out of wood, as was the plate.
Another voice entered the room. A male. “Of course it is.”
Shocked at the intrusion, and especially by someone that spoke a version of English he knew, John started to get up.
“I’m sorry. I though you heard me knocking,” he said.
“There’s no door. Knocking on what?” John asked.
“The arch.” The man stepped closer. “I’m Matthew.” He held his hand down to John.
The light from the fire illuminated his hand and John saw that it was severely burned. As Matthew stepped more into the light, his face became clear. Half of it was severely burned. He was in his fifties, maybe slightly older. It was hard to tell.
“May I?” Matthew asked, shaking hands with Meredith and gesturing to the floor.
Meredith nodded. “Please.”
Matthew sat down. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived. I was out looking for certain plants that can help Bada. But he seems better. Thank you so much.”
John asked. “So you live in this community?”
“I do. I’m one of the very few elders remaining from the war years.”
“I’m glad you’re here now,” Meredith said. “Do they understand you? Do you understand them?”
“In a way I do. They understand everything that is said to them,” Matthew said. “All of these people, adults mostly, are offspring of people that survived the bombs. The chemicals, radiation, caused severe mutations, as you can see. They understand, but when then try to speak, it comes out jarred. They understand each other though.”
Meredith said. “Sort of like a variation of Apraxia.”
“Yeah,” Matthew nodded. “One of the other elders said the same thing. The kids though, second and third generation, they speak perfectly, or close to it. It’s our hope they can pass the language on. The mutation affected the first generation physically and verbally. Intellectually, they’re a pretty smart breed. Unlike the Night Stalkers. But they’re a couple hundred miles out and we watch out for them. Every once and a while one makes their way here. You need to watch out for them. They are violent.”
John chuckled. “Yes, well, we learned that the hard way.”
“I’m sorry,” Matthew said. “I can imagine how that must have played about your willingness to help here. But these are good people. They are.”
Meredith smiled gently. “I am learning that.”
“And that food is good. Trust me. Eat,” Matthew said. “I came to talk to you. Hoping to answer any questions and hoping you’ll answer mine.”
John lifted his plate. “We can try.”
“Did you know the man that died?” Matthew asked.
“No.” John replied.
“Just odd. We haven’t seen folks like you since before the war. Never in the lives of these people. Are you government?” Mathew asked. “The guy that died. Never gave us his name. He was searching for his family. Muttering something about how many years that he was … and this is gonna sound crazy … he said he was frozen. Does that make sense to you?”
“It’s not crazy,” Meredith explained. “We didn’t know him. But John and I were also part of a stasis program that had us frozen for a long time. We knew nothing. We didn’t even know why we were picked. They told us nothing. We woke to this.”
Matthew nodded. “Science fiction stuff. I used to read stuff like that. If you weren’t so different, I’d be inclined to think it was made up. But you two arrived in a NASA buggy. I thought you were in space for decades.”
“Close enough,” John said. “Did that man arrive sick?”
“Yes, sick, fevered, muttering incoherently,” Matthew said. “Now, half the people here are sick. And I don’t know what you brought, or even if you have enough to help everyone, but you helped my grandson, and I am very grateful.”
“Your grandson?” Meredith asked with shock.
“Yes, Bada is my grandson. Great kid. Ana is my daughter.”
“Well, I will do all that I can,” Meredith said. “I’m not a doctor. But I’ll stay as long as you need help. But tell me Matthew, is this the virus?”
“What virus are you talking about?” Matthew asked.
“The one that’s been dormant for ten years. The one that wiped out a good portion of the population.”
Matthew smiled as if he didn’t understand and shook his head. “No, see there was a virus. I remember, I was in college. Something about it was deliberately released. Then the war came, the nuclear weapons exploded. That was it?”
John asked. “Have you lived in this area for thirty years?”
Matthew whistled. “Wow, that’s a long time. But yeah, once we emerged from the ashes and started to rebuild a pocket of civilization, why leave? No one was left. No virus wiped out the world. It was bombs.”
“Why do you say that?” Meredith asked.
“Well, surely, if there was a country, some sort of help would have come, right? Not like they just crossed us off the map and forgot about us. Not like it was just this section right?” Matthew said.
John looked at Meredith. A section of the country had been forgotten, abandoned, dubbed a nuclear wasteland and left to die off. But they didn’t.
“What?” Matthew looked at both of them.
“My new friend,” John tapped Matthew’s hand. “Seems not only do you have a lot to share with us, it seems that we … even with time lapse and missed history, have quite a bit to tell you.”