The Second Intelligent Species: The Cyclical Earth (8 page)

“Come on.” I grabbed Beth by the arm and we started to run. “Hello, hello. Over here. Hello.”

Two men got up and ran towards us. A large black man holding a big pipe as a weapon yelled in a slow deep voice, “Get on back now.”

We stopped in our tracks.

Another man shrieked in a southern accent, “Git back, git away, git out of here. We don’t want you here. Git, go on, leave us alone.”

Another man walked up behind the first two and didn’t say a word. The first two came at us in a threating manner. The third one was calmer. I could tell he was the one in charge.

“We’re just looking for some help, some food, and water, and shelter.” I tried to reason with the third one, looking him straight in the eye.

The lanky one said, “There ain’t nuthin’ left here, they took too much already. Now git out of here.” The pitch in his trembling voice rose at the end of his last command. It was obvious that he wasn’t anyone to be afraid of. His voice cracked
as he pretended to be a bigger man than he really was.

The little man’s tirade was interrupted by the one in charge. “Shut up, Tex, you’ve said too much already.” He walked closer to greet us. “They’re nothing to worry about.” As soon as he spoke, the other two dropped their guards and became docile.

“My name’s Nick and this is Beth.” I didn’t think last names were important right now. “We’re from upstate. We came down along the interstate. How many of you are there?

Without any introduction he spoke. “First things first. I run this place and I decide what questions will be asked and I’ll be the one asking them. Secondly, I’m sorry but there’s not enough food for everyone so I’m going to have to ask you to leave, but before you do, we’ll give you one meal, and all the water you can carry, and then you’ll have to go. Don’t come back. Fair enough?” He came forward like this was a business deal and he was in a rush to meet a deadline.

“Yea… ok …” I was still in shock. This was not the welcome wagon I was expecting. I expected that people would want us to join their group of survivors—strength in numbers. “We’re no threat to you. We just thought if we could find a group of people, we all would have a better chance of surviving.
Beth’s a nurse and maybe she could help with…”

“We’ve got that all solved,” he interrupted. “Look, here’s how it is. We had enough food up until two days ago. We had some stolen. We would have let you both stay then, but now there’s not enough. Giving away one meal to everyone that passes by is more than the rest of the group would like, but that’s the best we can do. You probably won’t like what we have to feed you either. They won’t let me give away any of the good food. You’re going to get the stuff nobody else wants.”

I could sense the pressure he felt, but believed he still held the authority of the group. “Well, we’ll take whatever you offer. Thank you.”

Beth and I walked behind the third guy as he headed back to the rest. He hadn’t even told us his name.

I kept looking over my shoulder at the scrawny guy. I positioned Beth in front of me. I didn’t like the way he acted. I half expected to get hit in the back of the head as he followed us. He just had a weasel-looking face. I didn’t trust him.

We walked over to the fire smoldering under a small section of roof that had survived the earthquake. Two people got up so we could sit down. All it took was a hand gesture from their leader. I felt very unwelcome and anxious. Nobody said a word until we both sat down on some cement
blocks that were placed in a circle, like campfires when we used to go camping. I thought for sure that somebody would break out a guitar and start playing “Kumbaya.”

“Have you seen any other people or any other animals alive?” He didn’t waste any time asking the questions he promised he would.

“We’ve seen a lot of rats, an opossum, and a priest who died soon after we found him. Other than that, we haven’t even seen a dog.” I had said enough and stopped giving any more free information until he made it worth our while.

“Have you found any place that didn’t burn?”

“Would we be here if we did?” I said, and then realized that I back talked to him. We were really in no position to piss these people off. “No, I’m sorry. It’s been horrible for us. Beth lost her family, we lost our house and…”

It was Beth‘s turn to interrupt me. “Nick, they don‘t care.” She surprised me when she spoke up.

“That’s right honey, we all lost people. Your people weren’t any better than our families.” Some middle-aged African American woman with no teeth blurted out, and then raised her voice. “And who gives you the right…?”

The leader broke in to what was sure to be a confrontation. “Bonita, shhhh baby, be quiet.”

Instantly she quieted down and went back to fiddling with the fire. This guy really did have command of the group.

“My name’s Mick. Hi, Nick.”

I reached out my hand to shake his. “Mick.”

To my surprise, he reached out his hand and said, “Nick.”

We all gave a very subtle and muffled chuckle. No one dared laugh out loud. It wasn’t time yet.

He seemed like an intelligent man, quick witted and apparently accustomed to dealing with people. There was a nametag on his shirt, but it didn’t tell where he had worked. Though balding, he didn’t try to hide it with a comb over, but yet still had more hair than Beth.

“Just how many people do you think there are still alive in the city?” I felt I had gained his trust enough to ask a question.

He gazed in my direction awhile then said, “You’re lucky I like you.” He pressed his lips together. “I really can’t be sure. We have pretty much stayed here protecting this store. We put a claim on everything here, and the only way to keep it to ourselves is to stay here. There’ve been a few small groups passing through. We ran a couple of them off. We fed some and then sent them on their way. There’s only enough food left here for us.” He shook and rubbed his head. “Nobody has claimed the water tower. I’m sure someone will
take it hostage and only give water for food. We’d do it but we don’t have any guns, and none of us has the nerve to defend it. For now, it’s still run by the city. Just turn the pipe wrench to the left and catch it when it starts to drip, then turn it to the right to stop it from leaking out. There’s no way to fill it back up. When it’s gone we’ll drink what we can find. Wait a minute. I thought I was supposed to be asking the questions. Do you have anything to carry water in?”

“I guess I could poke a couple of holes in a can and then plug the holes with a screw or something.” I didn’t have anything but we had to keep hydrated in this heat. Even though it was dark all the time, it was constantly muggy. The heat drained us of all energy. We sweated from the time we crawled out of that tunnel and about five minutes after we washed up.

“I’m going to give each of you a going away gift. I shop at Gander Mountain.” He motioned with a drinking motion to a young boy crouching adjacent to the fire. “Marcos, bring me two canteens.”

The little guy jumped up as soon as he was asked. Apparently he was the keeper of the canteens. “Can I have some candy now?” He turned to look at our host.

“Give one to each of them, and then come here,” Mick said.

Off he scampered into the darkness, to return within less than two minutes, stirring up a plume of ashes as he skidded to a stop in front of Mick.

“Give one to each of our new friends.”

The little guy came over to Beth first, handed over a blackened and dented canteen, looked her in the eyes, and said, “Don’t worry; your hair will grow back.”

Beth looked down at her feet. Her hair was so important to her. I’d spent many hours combing my fingers through it. When it started to turn grey, she went to the salon religiously, every two weeks, to get it colored back to its original hue. “Thank you,” she said.

He handed me another. “Thank you,” I said.

The youngster turned away towards Mick, and the light of the fire reflected off his bare skin. The tops of his shoulders were covered with sores that seemed to be draining. Some of the material of his shirt had melted into his skin. He didn’t seem to be very uncomfortable considering his burns. I didn’t comment.

I looked at Mick with sincerity and said, “Thank you very, very much Mick. I know how valuable these are.” I held up the canteen, metal with a metal cap. You could tell both had gone through the fire. Mine was discolored, dented, and the cap was loose and probably leaked.

“They all leak,” Mick said, “but if you wrap a small piece of cloth around the top, it’ll be the same as the rubber gasket that burned out.”

“You’ve got candy?” I didn’t mean to blurt it out quite like that, but I couldn’t imagine how something made out of almost one hundred percent sugar, made it through the fires. I’ve seen marshmallows burn.

Mick looked up at me. “Power has its privileges, and right now it’s a currency that works, among others.” He reached into a pocket on each side of his jacket and pulled something out with each hand. He handed the candy to the little burned guy, who quickly ran over to where he was sitting before he was summoned up.

When the little guy tried to sit down again, the pains of his burns were now visible on his face. He put a piece of what I thought was candy into his mouth. Tears ran down his cheek as he tried to smile, but the smile lost out to a pursed upper lip.

A woman wearing a pair of men’s work boots that were obviously too big, gave him a canteen. He drank the water and threw his head back as if he had taken a pill.

He put the cap back on and handed the canteen back.

Without a word, the woman motioned with one hand for the boy to finish all the water. Understanding her sign language, he complied. This
time when he handed the empty container off, it was accepted without a word. The woman turned and went back to her cinderblock seat, to continue her silent stare into the only light around.

The youngster put something else into his mouth, tossing it from one cheek to the other with his tongue. This time the smile came back, but it was crisscrossed with muddy streaks of tears.

Now I understood why he seemed free of pain. “Where did you find the pain killers?” Had my question crossed a line?

“Shhh.” Mick stood up, motioned with his head, and said, “Let’s go for a walk.”

I followed him to the edge of one of the remaining walls. Either he trusted me or he was going to kill me. We stopped when we were out of hearing range of the rest of the survivors.

Mick looked over towards the group as if searching for one particular individual. He seemed very apprehensive. “You see, there was once this pharmacist who thought he had a failsafe plan to retire early. He and his partner could move out of the city. Retire in some old farmhouse, someplace quiet, someplace more tolerant.” He stopped to wipe his eyes and nose with his sleeve. Taking a deep breath he continued. “So… this pharmacist deposited the sweepings of ineptness away into a safe every once and a while. Management was so lax about record keeping that as long as they didn’t
change managers, I had it made. In about two more years I was going to unload everything all at once, take the money and run. Then this happened. I knew I would never retire.” He shook his head. He was taking this whole thing personal.

“You’re going to need that stuff now, more than ever. Why are you telling me about it? If I were you, I would keep quiet about it and use it on the people that need it.” I didn’t feel comfortable knowing about his stash. If the wrong people found out about his safe, things could get chaotic.

“Yes I know. I’ve been giving them to whomever needs them. I’m afraid in doing so, word has spread about my little clinic. That’s why I’m confiding in you. I need somebody on my side, somebody I can trust… I can trust you, can’t I, Nick? I need somebody.”

I wasn’t ready to pledge allegiance to anybody yet. “What about those two guys that threatened us. They seemed pretty loyal. They were ready to kill for you.”

“Those guys were just trying to scare you away because the rest of the group didn’t want any more food given away to strangers. The big guy, Carl, he wouldn’t hurt a fly. He was a conductor on the monorail. He recognized what was going on and stopped the train underground. He led twenty-three people into a maintenance tunnel. He led six out. The rest of them died of asphyxiation.
Three more died before they made it here. Now Tex, I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him. He has a cowboy hat and talks with a fake southern accent, pretends to be a real tough guy. I think he’s from New Jersey.”

Mick turned back to look at the group. “He was on Carl’s train. Carl told me that when they were in the maintenance tunnel, he saw the asshole push some children away from a crack in the wall, where breathable air was coming in. Carl wanted to stop him, but he was busy rotating children and the elderly so they could breathe near a ventilation shaft. The kids didn’t make it, Tex did. We only let him stick around because he’s good at scavenging around in the debris, like the rat he is. He has found a lot of food for everyone, but he makes sure that he gets the best of it all. That’s the only reason he’s doing it. He’s the reason I’m talking to you. He seems extremely interested in what I have in my left pocket. Another thing, he’s gone way too long when he goes scavenging. Sometimes he comes back with nothing. Other times he comes back with things, but won’t tell where he found them. I don’t trust him.

Will you and your woman stick by me, so I can talk these people into leaving this mall and looking for more survivors? As it stands, Bonita has a lot of pull with the rest them. They won’t leave the place because Bonita wants to stay. I
guess she just yells louder. I have some control of her because I keep her sedated. She won’t let Marcos leave, and I won’t go because he needs these pills. If I left them with Marcos, Tex would take them away, then Marcos would suffer.” Again he nervously looked back at the rest.

I felt extremely uncomfortable. “I’m sure that Beth wants to go down to the hospital and see if she can help out.” I scrambled for any excuse, since staying here wouldn’t increase our odds of survival.

“Let’s go back to the fire, and we’ll get something into your stomach,” Mick said.