Unthinkable (Berger Series) (3 page)

“Yoshi!”
Evan tried again, looking behind him at the empty road. He tried to sound calm. “Stop the goddamn car. There’s no one behind us.” He took a deep breath. “Nobody.” Yoshi slowed and made a more cautious turn onto a farm road, driving deep into the cornfield before turning the SUV around and facing the highway. He stopped it and turned off the engine.

“Yoshi…” Evan looked at his friend and stopped the rebuke in mid-sentence.

Yoshi was shaking, a death-grip on the steering wheel. He stared straight ahead, his breath coming in short gasps.

“
Yosh?” Evan put a cautious hand on his shoulder. The touch seemed to stir him.

“Never point a gun at anything you don’t intend to shoot,” he said.

“What?”

“’Never point a gun at anything you don’t intend to shoot’. It’s the first rule of gun safety. Right up there with ‘Always assume a gun is loaded’.  I could have shot that cop. But I couldn’t let him take you in.” He looked at Evan with frightened eyes.

“Why?” Anger flared in Evan, “If he’d taken me in, so what? He couldn’t charge me with anything. And now he’s got our IDs and everything!”

“Well what is he going to do with it,” shouted Yoshi, fear flashing to anger, “Go to your apartment and arrest you? In case you don’t remember, you don’t have an apartment anymore. In fact, the entire city is a radioactive crater.”

“He was still a cop and I’m sure he was just doing his job. He couldn’t have held me; there wasn’t anything to charge me with.”

“Evan, 70 years ago people that looked like me were rounded up just because we were Japanese. There was no trial, no jury. You were Japanese, into the camp you went. Now this time it’s you. People that look like you did some horrendous things and anybody that looks that way
is going to be suspect. He might have just killed you if you were by yourself.”

“That’s not the way things work in this country. Not anymore anyway.”

“For God’s sake listen to yourself. You’re an American. You know that, I know that. But lots of people are just going to see some Middle-Eastern guy and assume the worst. I could see it in the way he was acting. I couldn’t let him do it.” Yoshi got quiet. “I’m not going to let anybody hurt you.”

Evan stopped cold. He looked at the floor and saw the gun, quickly shifted his gaze out the windshield, then back to Yoshi. He took a breath. “I know. You feel like you need to protect me. I appreciate that,” he said carefully, “But that might not have been the best thing you could’ve done.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” said Yoshi, looking steadily at Evan.

“So you say. But the question still remains. What are we going to do? Where are we going to go?”

They both turned and stared out the front windshield. The road was empty. A slight breeze shook the cornfield. Evan could feel the heat and humidity trying to get into the car. A loud beep disturbed the silence. Yoshi reached into his pocket, pulled out his cell phone and stared at it. Yoshi glanced at Evan as he put the phone to his ear. Evan watched Yoshi’s face as he listened. It quickly passed from hope to despair. There were tears in Yoshi’s eyes as he passed the phone to Evan. He listened:

“Yoshi, it’s me, Ryan. If you’re still alive and get this message, get out of Dodge. Repeat get out of Dodge. I’m breaking so many rules with this call, but it doesn’t matter now. I know everyone else is dead already. Go to Dover, Wyoming. That’s Dover, Wyoming. Tell Joe Hooker who you are. Dad would have been proud of you. I’m proud of you. I love you man, and I’m glad you were my brother. I…” There was a click and then the phone asking him if he wanted to erase the message. Evan saved it before turning the phone off. Yoshi sat, hands limp on the wheel, staring into space and clearly trying not to cry. He banged his fist on the steering wheel.

“It’s really fucking happened, hasn’t it?” asked Evan looking back out of the windshield.

“Yeah,” Yoshi rubbed his face.

“I’m sorry, about Ryan I mean,” offered Evan.

“Well if the world ended why would I get to be special and not lose the rest of my family?” Yoshi looked out at the field. “Aw fuck,” he looked over at Evan, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that…”

“It’s okay. It’s been two years since they died.” Evan shrugged and tried to ignore the rocks in his stomach. “You got my back, right?” Evan gave him a half smile.

“You know it.” Yoshi smiled back.

“So, uh, do you have any idea where Dover, Wyoming is?”

“Not a clue. But at least it answers the question of where to go.” Yoshi started the engine again.

“Do you want me to drive?” asked Evan with concern.

“
Naw. I’m…I’ll be okay. Check and see if that map in the glove box is any kind of useful.” Yoshi drove back out the main road and turned left. Evan unfolded the map.

“This isn’t going to help, it’s just the city,” said Evan.

“Well it was worth a shot.”  Yoshi flipped the AC off and rolled down the windows as Evan wrestled with the map. It was full Midwest summer and Evan was glad for the breeze. He turned and looked out at the passing corn fields. What a ridiculous situation. At least Yoshi was here. He was the one always into the survival thing. It was Yoshi’s idea for him to buy that gun. Evan thought about picking it up, but didn’t. He never was that comfortable with the thing in the first place.

It was all corn fields along the sides of the road. Yoshi made another left turn. “Let’s try this way.” He glanced down at the instrument panel. “We’re
gonna need gas soon too.” Evan worried. What would they do if they did run out of gas? Walk all the way to Wyoming? They passed a road sign that told them they were going west. “At least we’re going the right direction,” said Yoshi. Evan looked at his friend and was very glad that Yoshi was there. Yoshi was always the reliable one, the level-headed one. Evan reflected that pointing a pistol at a cop maybe wasn’t the most level-headed thing Yoshi had ever done. But then, circumstances were different now, weren’t they?

It was almost a half hour before they finally saw a station. It was starting to get dark, but the station had outside lights on. When they got closer they could hear a generator hum. The lights were off inside. Just past the station were a few houses and buildings. Cautiously Yoshi pulled up to a pump. He reached down and put the gun in Evan’s hand, meeting Evan’s eyes. “I’m going to see if I can’t pump some gas. Keep an eye out.” Evan nodded. The gun felt awkward and heavy in his hand. His heart beat faster as he remembered it was loaded and ready to go. Of course it was; Yoshi wouldn’t point an empty gun at a cop and Evan had loaded it himself. Still, Evan had never kept it loaded before and somehow it just didn’t feel right.

He heard the thump of the pump kicking on and looked cautiously out the windshield. Night was coming and he noticed that he could see little outside the glare of the station lights. With a start Evan realized the lights meant he was in perfect position for anyone to see him. He unbuckled and slid down into the seat, hoping that he was low enough behind the dash. He couldn’t see Yoshi from here though. Evan shifted and looked over at Yoshi through the open window. His heart beat faster as he strained to hear anything beyond the sound of the pump.

He jumped when the pump clicked to a stop. “So now the question is, how do we pay for this?” asked Yoshi as he jammed the pump back on its holder. “Pay at the pump isn’t going to work. Is there anyone around here to pay? And with what?” Yoshi opened the door and looked at Evan slouched in the seat.

“We’ve got some cash,” said Evan as he sat up.

“I don’t see anyone to pay.” Repeated Yoshi as he climbed back into the SUV.

“We can’t just drive off,” said Evan, horrified. He had the gun pointed at the engine compartment.

“Put that down before you shoot something,” Yoshi’s voice was dead calm. “What do you propose we do? Leave an IOU?” Yoshi slammed the door shut and started the SUV. Evan stuck the gun back under the seat, glad to be rid of it. He tried to think of something else to say.

Yoshi eased away from the pump. Evan felt a tingling at the back of his neck even before the headlights spotlighted the man in front of them with a shotgun
leveled at the windshield.  Yoshi slammed on the brakes as Evan instinctively ducked. No shots came and Evan raised his head. Yoshi put his hands in the air as someone stood outside his window, pistol at his head. As the image registered there was a click next to him and Evan turned to see the barrel of a gun almost directly in his face. Evan froze, open mouthed.

The pistol man stepped back. Another man yanked
open the door and pulled Evan out of his seat. Evan stumbled out, off balance. The second man punched him hard in the gut and Evan dropped to his hands and knees gasping for air. He could hear struggling on the other side. Yoshi was fighting. Evan started to get up. They grabbed the back of his shirt and slammed him chest first into the hood. Someone twisted his arm behind him and he cried out. He opened his eyes and saw Yoshi connect with a punch. Evan felt cold steel against his temple. He whimpered. The gun cocked in his ear and Evan was sure he’d be pissing himself in a moment.

“What about your friend here?” the man holding Evan asked loudly.

Yoshi swung around and saw Evan with a gun to his head and terror in his eyes. The fight left him and he sagged. The men Yoshi had been fighting pulled his arms behind him and handcuffed him. The gun left Evan’s temple. He tried to breathe. Viciously the pistol slammed into his head. Stars burst before his eyes. He fell as more kicks and punches rained down on him. His arms were no protection from the blows. The last thing he heard as his world spun into darkness was the sound of Yoshi yelling. But it sounded far away and the words were lost in the muffling dark.

Chapter 3

Cold.
A hard cold floor. Metal around his wrists. Arms stretched above him. Evan slowly opened his eyes to the wood beamed ceiling. His body spoke in pain everywhere, each one shouting to be heard above the rest. The massive headache weighing down his head seemed to shout the loudest. A faint breeze moved a ceiling fan in uneasy rhythms.

A wave of panic crashed through Evan, threatening to overwhelm him. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to fight it off. A few deep breaths and his eyes opened again. Evan forced himself to try and sit up. His hands were handcuffed to a pipe of some sort, but he managed to slide up into a half-sitting position and look around.

In the dim light Evan saw that he was in a small basement. Tattered black plastic covered most of the windows, lending a dim gloom to the space. Above an ancient washer and dryer a small window stood open. Laundry on the floor next to the washer. An abandoned tricycle covered in cobwebs in one corner, moldering cardboard boxes against the wall. A rickety wooden staircase came down from the left nearly to the center of the room. A bare bulb hung at the foot of the stairs. There were sounds of movement above, but otherwise Evan was alone. He closed his eyes and tried to remember what happened. Fighting….and Yoshi. Where was Yoshi?

A door opened. Heavy booted footsteps stomped down the stairs. Evan opened his eyes and recognized the
shotgun man from last night. He carried a baseball bat in one hand and a sloshing bucket in the other. Evan shifted and the man saw that he was awake. Shotgun put down the water and walked up to Evan, sneering down at him. He tapped the baseball bat against his calf. Evan looked up into cold blue hateful eyes.

Anger flared up in Evan before fear. “What do you want from me?” he growled. “Where’s Yoshi? Why are you doing this?” There was a painful crack as the bat slammed into his ribs. Evan cried in agony. Gasping for air he turned his face back up to the stranger.

You Saudi bastard!” cursed the stranger. “My sister was in St. Louis!” he brought the bat back up to swing again.

“I’m an American,” cried Evan. “I’m from Minnesota. My name is Evan Berger. My parents…” he yelped again as the bat came down.

“That’s enough Travis.” A commanding voice rang from the stairs.

Through streaming eyes Evan looked up to see his salvation. An older, heavy-set woman stood on the stairs. She carried immediate authority as she came down. Travis stepped back, still watching him with hate and anger. The woman came and stood over him. Evan struggled against aching ribs to sit up and meet her gaze. Her eyes were stormy blue and unreadable. Faded brown hair strayed from a loose bun.

“Your name is Evan.” It was a statement. Evan nodded. “You look Saudi but you say you’re not.”

“I’m adopted,” Evan was already tired of explaining. “Where’s my friend?”

“Why did you steal the gas?” Her clipped words were like bullets.

“We were trying to get to Wyoming. We didn’t see anybody to pay…”

“So you were just going to drive off?”

“We…”

“When do you think the next truck is going to come through here?”

“I…”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just let Travis here deal with you.”

Evan was stumped. He looked at the man standing eagerly with the bat. His ribs screamed in pain, his shoulders ached from the awkward position.

“Because,” he said slowly, “because I’m an American, just like you. And we’re supposed to help each other.” She laughed and turned away. A chill ran down Evan’s spine. She said something quietly to Travis, who grabbed the bucket and stomped back up the stairs. The woman turned away from Evan and started pulling clothes from the washer.

It hurt to breathe. Evan could hear someone, he assumed Travis, upstairs. The woman hummed something vaguely familiar as she worked. This is insane, thought Evan. I am going to wake up and this is all going to be a dream. I’ll be home and everything will be all right. He closed his eyes against the rising panic. Evan realized he’d thought the same thing when he’d been told his of his parent’s accident. Closing his eyes hadn’t changed it then either. Wishful thinking couldn’t bring his parents back, nor could it change anything that had happened. But at least he was alive. Hopefully Yoshi was too. What would he do if Yoshi wasn’t? Evan felt the panic rising again. He concentrated on his breathing.
One slow painful breath in, one slow painful breath out. The woman slammed the dryer door and Evan opened his eyes. She hefted the hamper and disappeared up the stairs.

Evan heard raised voices and a door open and close,
then it was back to silence. He looked up at the window and thought perhaps it was getting brighter outside. He had the sudden urge to try and rip the pipe off the wall, but Evan knew he was no Hulk. He forced himself into a sitting position, gritting his teeth against the pain.  His stomach rumbled and he remembered that he had not eaten since the café yesterday afternoon. Evan was thirsty too. For a moment he had the idea that perhaps they would just leave him there to starve and rot. Evan shook his head, but quickly stopped. That hurt.

A door opened above. Evan listened as the footsteps moved across the floor to the stairs. He watched as the woman came down first. She looked seriously at Evan, then turned and nodded up the stairs. Yoshi came slowly down, hands cuffed behind him. Travis walked right behind, a pistol in one hand and his other on Yoshi’s shoulder. He steered Yoshi to a stop next to the washer. Evan’s heart sank as he saw how bloodied his friend was. Yoshi kept his head down.

“You’re lucky you had your friend here,” said the woman, looking at Evan. “His daddy was a Marine and I’m not gonna kill no son of no Marine.” She opened her hand and Evan saw that she was holding a dog tag. Yoshi stared at her hand. “We’re keeping your truck. Travis will drive you out of town. From there, start walking. But I’d avoid KC if I was you.” She turned toward the stairs.

“Give that back!” shouted Yoshi.

She looked down at the dog tag, then back to Yoshi. The woman walked over and stuffed it into Yoshi’s front pocket. They watched her go upstairs. Travis backhanded Yoshi. He crashed back into the washer and slid to the floor. Evan cringed. Travis walked over to Evan. He put the pistol in his waistband and pulled out a key. Evan looked to Yoshi, but his eyes were rooted to the floor. “He can’t help you,” said Travis, kicking Evan in the stomach. While Evan gasped in pain he unlocked one hand, passed the cuffs around to the front and locked his hand back in it.

Evan let his hands fall in front of him, shoulders aching with relief. Travis grabbed his collar and yanked him to his feet. He pulled Evan over and with his other hand pulled Yoshi up. He herded them up the stairs into a kitchen, then quickly out into the blinding light of a yard.  A pickup
truck waited with half a dozen men sitting in the bed and on the tailgate. With a shove from Travis, Evan scrambled into the back. With his hands behind him Yoshi couldn’t climb so they hauled him up. The day was promising to be hot and muggy and the metal bed of the pickup was scorching already. Evan didn’t care as he leaned against the side of the truck, unfriendly faces watching him with open hostility; he just wanted to get out of there and away from these people. Yoshi lay on his side, turned away from Evan. Evan watched him, worried.

After a short eternity the truck came to a stop. They reached over and dropped the tailgate. Travis grabbed Yoshi and threw him to the ground. Most of the men jumped out of the truck while the last one stayed put with his gun trained on Evan. Evan winced as he heard hitting and grunts of pain. Evan bit his lip, afraid that any noise on his part would only make Yoshi suffer more. The noise stopped and the pistol man ordered Evan out. He climbed down and Travis unlocked his handcuffs. Evan stared at the still form of Yoshi face down on the ground. One of the men spat at Yoshi before climbing back into the truck. They made a
u-turn and sped off, leaving a dust trail behind them.

Evan squatted next to his friend, unsure what to say or do. He cautiously touched his shoulder.
“Yoshi?” There was no response. Evan bit his lip and rolled him over. His chest rose and fell, but Yoshi was bloodied and battered. Evan stood up and looked around. They had been left in the middle of a dirt road lined with trees. To the right lay a cornfield, to the left were more trees leading down to what sounded like a creek. Aside from the dust trail left by the truck there was no sign of life. As Evan looked down at Yoshi he felt more alone then he ever had before. Were they going to die out here? He pushed those thoughts away. The day was only going to get hotter and with no other options that he could he see, Evan put his hands under Yoshi’s arms and dragged him into the shade on the side of the road.

Evan slid down the short embankment to the creek. He briefly wondered if the water was safe to drink or not, but his parched throat didn’t care. He scooped up several handfuls for himself. Now, how to get this water to Yoshi? Frustrated, Evan walked back up the embankment. Something shiny on his the road caught his eye. Evan hurried to pick it up and found the dog tag. Apparently, it had slipped out of Yoshi’s pocket.

“McCarthy, Michael,” Evan read out loud, “Catholic, USMC.” Yoshi’s fathers dog tag. He had only shown this to him once, when he was very drunk. Evan had asked why he kept it in his pocket. Yoshi just put it away and took another drink, then went to throw up. The dog tag was worn and scratched with age and use.

Evan turned and jumped when he saw Yoshi watching him. “Yoshi!” he cried, hurrying to his side and dropping to his knees in the grass. He put the dog tag into Yoshi’s open hand. Yoshi looked at it solemnly before closing his hand around it, clasping it to his chest and closing his eyes. Evan knew he must be thinking of his dad and brothers.

Yoshi spoke without opening his eyes. “We have to walk to Wyoming after all, don’t we?”

“Looks like it. Can you stand?”

“Only one way to find out.” Evan helped Yoshi to a sitting position and then slowly to his feet. Yoshi grimaced and shifted his weight off one foot. “I landed wrong when they threw me off the truck,” he muttered.

“They sure beat the shit out of you,” said Evan.

“Yeah,” grunted Yoshi as he took a tentative step.

“There’s a creek down here. You should drink something.”

Yoshi nodded and accepted Evan’s help getting down the embankment. He slipped and nearly fell. They were both exhausted. Anger flared up as he helped Yoshi kneel to get some water. There was no reason for this. The sight of Yoshi hurt like this made Evan sick to his stomach

They climbed back up to the road. Yoshi looked left and right. “The truck went that way,” said Evan, pointing. Yoshi turned and started walking in the opposite direction as fast as he could limp. Evan followed close behind. He was hot and exhausted, but if Yoshi wanted to start walking he wasn’t going to argue. It was unfair, he thought, that Yoshi had gotten the worst of it. After all, he wasn’t the one they were mad at. What would have happened if Yoshi hadn’t had that dog tag? Evan shuddered at the thought. Probably one or both of them would be dead.

After maybe an hour of walking Yoshi stumbled and nearly fell. Evan caught him. “It’s getting really hot out here. We should stop until it gets cooler.” Yoshi nodded. They made their way down to the creek again before sitting down in the shade. Yoshi leaned his head back against a tree and closed his eyes.

“I don’t really remember what happened,” said Evan. “I remember the gas station; I guess they beat me up and locked me in that basement. What happened to you?”

“Nothing.” Yoshi kept his eyes shut.

“I’m sorry,
Yosh. This is all my fault. You should have left me in St. Louis.” Evan tore out a handful of grass in frustration.

“No,” Yoshi’s eyes snapped open. “It’s not your fault. It’s nobody’s fault but the bastards that bombed us. Don’t ever say you’re sorry we got out of St. Louis.”

Evan met his angry eyes. “Okay, sheesh. But they still hurt you because of me.”

“You know me. They might have hurt me just to shut me up,” Yoshi laughed bitterly. The laughter scared Evan more than the anger.

“You’re right,” Evan cracked a smile to cover the fear, “I know exactly how you can be. And you look terrible.”

“So do you,” Yoshi closed his eyes again and got comfortable. Evan watched Yoshi until he fell asleep.
Something was wrong, and it wasn’t just the limp. But then, reflected Evan, wasn’t the whole word wrong now? He leaned back and closed his own eyes. The heat and exhaustion took him to sleep before he realized.

Yoshi shook Evan awake. The sun had dropped lower toward the horizon. His stomach reminded him he hadn’t eaten anything in a day. “Let’s keep walking,” said Yoshi. Evan stretched against his aching muscles and stood. Yoshi started walking and Evan quickly fell into step beside him.

After a while a smell caught their attention. Someone was cooking something. They glanced at each other and hurried forward. Sure enough, after cresting a small hill there stood a farmhouse. It was white and seemed to give a welcoming glow in the gathering dusk. Evan took two steps forward before noticing Yoshi wasn’t beside him

“Yoshi?”
Evan turned to face him. He seemed rooted to the road, unable or unwilling to move toward the house he was staring at. As Evan reached for Yoshi’s arm an unseen dog barked. Evan turned back toward the house. The screen door banged open and a man with a shotgun stepped onto the porch. Evan froze as the man looked them over.