Under a Broken Sun (7 page)

“Northwest of here.  Berwyn.”

“Ok.  We’ll walk at night – move faster in cooler temperatures and it’ll probably be safer.  First stop is Marilyn’s house.  I can drop you off there.  Ashley, your choice: stay with Marilyn or come with me to Chicago.”

“I don’t wanna go home,” Marilyn said.

“Wait, what?  You don’t wanna see your folks?”

“No.  Seriously, they’re mental.  They’re probably not there anyway.  They’re probably following Reverend Hill around.”

“They’d fight for him?”

“They’d die for Christ, and if Hill tells them to, yeah I guess they’ll fight.  Like I said, mental.”  She looked away, embarrassed.  I completely understood.  Parents pushing their bullshit ideas on their kids because God never wanted kids to think on their own or make their own decisions.

“Ashley?”

“I’m not going to some psycho house.  I’m sticking with you.  I got no one around here.”

“No extended family?”

“No.  Just...Columbus.”

“Want us to drop you off there?”

She paused.  “Yes.”

“Ok, then we follow my rules, got it?  We can’t afford to be stupid now.  We’ve lost two hundred years of technology – no cutting, no broken bones, no anything that would require medical attention.”  I looked them over, their big eyes watching me.  I never wanted to be a leader of anyone.  I could hardly keep my own shit straight.  No way was I going to waste any time keeping them in line.

“The world’s over, got it?   We determine our own fate.  We trust only ourselves, we help only ourselves because as of right now, there are a million other scared people making the same decision.  Understood?”

7.    

I woke up in the dusk shivering and drew my arms around me. 

What the hell am I doing?  How the hell can I get to Chicago, with temperatures bouncing between desert and arctic, and two high maintenance chicks following me like stray dogs?  I got up and looked at the two of them sleeping soundly.  I could leave two bottles of water to share, a few aspirin and some medicine just in case.  They’d be fine. 

I crouched down and drew a bottle of water out of the bag when Marilyn woke up.  She blinked up at me, wiped the eye-boogers out of her eyes, and yawned.  “Morning,” she said. 

“Evening,” I corrected her.  I handed her a bottle of water.  “Dinner?”  She forced a smile, took the bottle and sipped.

“I’m starving,” she said.  I took her hand to pull her up, but with a strong yank she pulled me down next to her.  Before I knew what was happening she had nuzzled herself into my neck.  I pulled her in tight.

"Don't leave me, ok?" she pleaded.

I lifted her face up and kissed her.  It felt like the only thing I could do to help.  I couldn’t say anything.  What was I gonna say, “Everything will be all right?”  Bullshit.  We were as good as dead.  It was just a matter of time.

The kissing grew heavier.  Our tongues danced over each other and my hands inspected every part of her hard body.  She was in great shape, tight body, firm and well-toned.  She wrapped her arms around my head, pulling me closer to her.  My hips instinctively began moving and rubbing myself against her.  I wanted her so bad I was gonna explode, but shit, we only met yesterday. 

“Hey are you guys gonna eat this cookie?"  Ashley said.

Cock-blocked.

She saw our position, which included me practically on top of Marilyn.  "Oh my God, get a room,” Ashley said and she walked over to grab the water.  “Seriously?  Do I really have to watch this?”

We stopped kissing and looked at each other.  Marilyn smiled a brief, small smile, and I knew that the kiss did the trick.

"Later," Marilyn whispered to me.

I ran my finger gently over her cheeks, her lips, her chin.  My balls were past blue and moved on into purple.  But still.  I loved looking into Marilyn's eyes.

“Hello?  We’re going to need food pretty soon,” Ashley said as she took a chomp out of an Oreo.  “Water just ain’t cuttin’ it.”

“Now I know what it really feels like to be a parent," I said to Marilyn.  I packed up the stuff and slung the bag over my shoulder, which ached like hell.  My back throbbed as I tried to balance the weight.  Didn't matter.  We had to get moving.  You tend to take for granted how easy it is to go sixteen miles in a car.   On foot, it took three hours.

After those three hours we were well outside the dark city and into the Philadelphia suburbs.  Circles of yellow-orange light dotted the landscape as fires of all sizes rose; some intentional, some not.  We avoided any fighting; things seemed to have quieted down anyway.  Only a few gunshots echoed in the distance like quick, small firecrackers on the Fourth of July.

We arrived at a place called King of Prussia.  Signs also pointed to Valley Forge, which would've been interesting a few days and a normal world ago.  We passed under a traffic sign reading MALL ROAD.  Ashley beamed.  "Oh.  My.  God.  A mall?  Seriously?  I am so there."  Typical.  World goes to shit and fourteen year old girls still wanna shop.

No harm in that, I thought.  Good chance to get supplies.  We headed down the road.   The world had fallen asleep and seemed, for the moment, at peace.

And then we saw the mall.

The King of Prussia mall extended in front of us like a small city.  Crowds ran in and out, no longer just carrying electronics but clothing, shoes, just about anything they could carry.  Police fired into the crowd but couldn't contain it.  Flames shot up through the roof, cars exploded at random.  Marilyn reached out and held my hand, her grip tight.  I looked at Ashley.  "Still wanna go shopping?"

We kept moving and eventually arrived at a convenience store.  Broken glass littered the ground in front of the doors.  I went to the dumpster nearby and hoisted the heavy lid up.  “Dumpster diving?” Ashley asked.  “We’ve got a whole store here.”

“Need a light,” I said.  I reached in and pulled out a rag.  Found a stick and tied the rag around the end of the branch.

"Gotta have lighter fluid inside," I said.  I turned to go into the store, and as I did I thought I saw a ball of light go out from inside.

We crept in through the door, my small lighter illuminating about six inches around us.  Enough to see the barbecue supplies.  I grabbed the lighter fluid, doused the rag, and lit it.

"Viola," I said.  "Instant torch."  I kept the lighter fluid.  Might come in handy later.

We went further in, crunching quietly on glass as we did.  I kept an eye out, hoping not to step on another hand.  In the drug store, at least we had some daylight.  Here, we were in a cave.

We went to the snack aisles and grabbed handfuls of everything we possibly could, stuffing them into my now open and overflowing gym bag.  There wasn’t a lot left.  We were the latecomers to this party.

We grabbed donuts, cereal, then made our way over to the cold wall of drinks, ice cream, frozen foods.  When I opened it a welcomed blast of trapped cool air hit my face.  I couldn’t suppress the sigh, just stood there taking it all in.  Even though it was cold outside, the day’s sauna-like heat was still fresh in my mind.  Plus the cold air had a certain artificial smell to it – it smelled like A/C.  I think I sighed more from the memories than anything else.

In another day, all this would be melted and worthless.

I tried another sliding door, letting out more cold air, and grabbed more bottles.  “Marilyn,” I said, “grab some bags from behind the counter.”

I heard Marilyn fumble her way to the counter, bump into something, cuss in a very impressive way, and then shuffle a handful of plastic bags.  She came over to me, bumped into something else, and cussed even louder. 

“Nice,” I said, taking the bags.  “Here, fill these up.  The water’s on the these shelves.”  I took her hand and guided it up the shelves, and heard her dropping bottles into the bags.

“Ashley?”  I said. 

No response.

“Ashley?  C’mon, man, we don’t have time for this bullshit.”

I heard a muffled sniffle and mumbling, like Ashley had her hand over her mouth.  And then a smell.  Really bad body odor. 

“Don’t move motherfucker,” came a voice.  Followed by a double CLICK.  “Or I’ll blow her fuckin’ head off.”

I was ten when a man held a gun to my temple.  My dad has had his share of enemies.  You’d be surprised how many fundamentalists don’t want science to discover a damn thing.  Probably even more surprising is how far they’d go to stop it.

I don’t remember much.  But I do remember my dad reasoning with the gunman.  I could tell this Cokehead wasn’t all there, and when people with guns aren’t all there, there is no reasoning with them.

But I had to try.  “Put the gun down,” I said quietly.  My voice was shaking.

“You get me the money out of the register and maybe I will,” he replied.

“No problem.  I’ll get it.  Just relax, ok?”

“I AM RELAXED.”

Yeah.  And the coke pumping through you is probably just medicinal.
  I walked to the cash register, and Cokehead shouted to Marilyn “You too!  Move it!”

The two of us reached the cash register and tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Let’s go man!”  Cokehead shouted, shifting his gaze all around him. 

“I’m trying!”  Still nothing.  I lifted it up and dropped it, using everything I had.  The bitch was heavy.

But it didn’t open up.

“I’m gettin’ pissed off!”

“Look, goddammit, it won’t open!”

“I’m gonna blow her head off!”

“Calm down, man, there’s gotta be a way, just let me think.”

“NOW!”

“WAIT A FUCKIN’ SECOND!”

BLAM.

Blood sprayed out of him reaching all the way to the cash counter, covering my hands and face.  A chunk of his forehead landed on the counter. 

Everyone screamed, even me.  Ashley dropped out of the grasp of the guy like her puppet strings were cut.  I watched her fall into a heap next to the bloody mess.

I looked at the opened front door and a fat dude stood in the dull moonlight, slinging his twelve-gauge shotgun over his beefy shoulder.  He took a few steps in and we saw his face in the firelight.

“Goddamn looters,” he said, his breathing short and raspy.  Then Fatman looked at me.  “You a goddamn looter?”

I shook my head no.  I didn’t want to move, but blood was dripping down my face and I desperately wanted to wipe it off.  At least stop it running.  It was making me sick.  Coulda been covered in HIV.

“What’s that in yer bag?” Fatman said, pointing to the gym bag on the floor.

“Nothing, just, supplies we bought before everything went south.  We’re camping.”

“Camping,” he said, chewing on gum or tobacco or something.

“Yeah.  Camping.  At, um, Valley Forge.”

“Huh.”  I thought the guy was gonna spit chewing tobacco, but he blew a big pink bubble instead, then sucked it in with a sharp snap.  I looked for Marilyn but she was gone.  Then I looked at Ashley down on the ground, lying on her stomach and groaning.  Blood seeped out of her back left shoulder.

“Holy shit, she’s alive,” I said kneeling down to her.  The guy pumped his shotgun.

“Uh-uh.  Hold it right there, mister.  I’m not stupid.  I know a ruse when I see one.”

“What?  She’s hit.  You fucking shot her!”

“That’s what you want me to believe, ain’t it.  I know the truth.  You all are invaders, right?  Government agents sent to take us good folk out.”  He put the shotgun on his shoulder and walked towards me.  “That man was a looter – but you…you’re different.  You’re an agent.  I can tell.  I got to take you out too.”

He lowered the shotgun, pointed at me, and then…snapped his head back, gurgled, coughed up blood, and collapsed. 

Marilyn stood behind him, staring at the sandwich knife sticking out from the back of the guy’s neck.

No one moved.  Our first kill.

Ashley took a handful of shotgun pellets to the left shoulder.  Not serious, but bad enough to hurt like hell.  I knelt beside her, Marilyn pulled the knife out of the Fatman and cut Ashley’s shirt down the back with shaking hands.  I looked at the wound, Marilyn stared at the knife.

“Marilyn," I said, “get me some water, gauze and paper towels.  Hurry.”  She bolted away and I focused on keeping Ashley calm.

“Fuck me, that hurts,” she said.

Not the reaction I expected.  I thought she'd be hysterical.  A basket case.  Must've been in shock.  I tried to reassure her.  "You'll be fine,” I said.  I brushed her hair away from her face.  "You're not gonna die."

"No shit, asshole," she said.  "Just some buckshot to the shoulder.  Jesus it hurts."

"I know.  I’ll get you cleaned up, then we’ll get you to a doctor to take the buckshot out.  Can’t leave it in there your whole life.”

However long that may be.

Marilyn returned with my gym bag and a roll of paper towels.  I poured water over Ashley’s back and dabbed at the blood with the paper towels.  I saw the silver glint of one small ball in the shifting firelight of the torch that Marilyn held above me. 

“There,” Marilyn said, pointing.

“Yeah, I got it.  Give me your knife.”

Marilyn handed it to me, and I told Ashley “This is gonna hurt a little.”  She gritted her teeth and cussed some more while I used the knife point to pop the ball out – not too deep.  Still, she was awfully brave for a fourteen year old. 

The others pellets were buried in small holes – about five or six total.  I wasn’t even gonna try for those.  No point carving her up like that.  There had to be a doc nearby.

“You know where we are?" I asked Marilyn.

She nodded.  “I live about ten, twenty minutes away.”

“So you know of any doctors around?”

"Yeah," she said, looking down.  “My dad,” she whispered.

8.    

Ten or twenty minutes my ass.  An hour later, we stood in front of Marilyn’s house with Ashley’s good arm slung over my shoulder.  Sweat ran down Ashley’s face despite the near freezing temperatures.  Marilyn paused before forcing herself up the front steps.  She pounded on the door, and after a moment the bolt turned from inside.  The door creaked open and an older woman, long strands of gray and white hair spilling over her shoulders, looked out at us with sleep still in her eyes, a single candle illuminating her face.