Breakdown: Season One (9 page)

Chapter 5 – Long Walk to Liberty

Eventually, Thom and Herbie had to stand back up, but they took their time doing it. Neither one of them was in any sort of shape to be running, pushing cars, sprinting up steps, or avoiding wheat-based death traps and crazed, chain-wielding hobos. Their bodies were letting them know in ways that weren’t very pleasant.

“Think I pulled my groin,” Thom mumbled.

“…”

“Herbie?”

“Just trying to think of a muscle I don’t think is pulled. Couldn’t think of one.”

Thom laughed, regretting it instantly.

“Oh, man, don’t do that. Funny hurts,” Thom said, easing himself up to his feet. He gave Herbie a hand up as well, the old man popping his back and neck loudly.

“Thom, we need to get moving. Someone’s going to be looking for Clyde and Antonio. They’re not going to be happy if they see us afterwards.”

“Oh, man. Hadn’t thought of that.” Thom turned to Herbie, a small smile on his face. “Just keeps getting better, doesn’t it?”

Herbie nodded grimly. “Help an old man down the stairs.”

Thom walked a step ahead, allowing Herbie to rest some of his weight on Thom’s shoulders. They headed down to the second floor window they’d previously broken open and peered outside. The grey-green cloud was mostly gone, though they could see remnants of it floating north again toward the city.

“Hope it disperses before it gets anywhere near John’s place. How’d that happen, anyway?”

Herbie shrugged. “Used to drive trucks. Sometimes I know those plants keep the gasses cooled to a liquid. Easier to store more that way. They reach room temperature, they turn into a gas again and expand. Makes sense they’d build a pressure release valve in. Some kind of mechanical fail-safe so the pressure didn’t just blow the holding tanks.”

Thom was impressed. “You’re a pretty smart dude, Herbie.”

Herbie nodded, and Thom couldn’t quite tell, but he thought the old man might have been blushing a bit.

“Thanks, Thom. Wanted to go to college, Uncle Sam had different ideas, and then I came home and made some pretty poor choices. Took me off of that road. Glad the dope didn’t ruin all of my brains,” he said, tossing a wink Thom’s way.

“Right. Climbing out of this window’s going to suck.” Thom spat into his hands and rubbed them together, preparing to descend. Herbie just walked down to the ground floor. John stood there a moment, not sure what was going on, when he heard the push bar on the doors click and the car start to roll away. He smiled again.

“Well played, old man,” he mumbled, heading down the stairs.

When he rounded the last corner of the stairwell, Herbie was dusting off his hands on his shirt, grinning from ear to ear.

“Don’t even start, Herbie, don’t even start.” Thom sighed deeply. “Going to be a long walk to Columbia.”

Herbie chuckled, and the men followed the track farther down the line.

Thom took a sip from the water bladder on his pack and offered it to Herbie, who gladly accepted.

“Good to get that wheat dust out of my mouth,” Herbie said.

“Yeah. What a crazy place. Just glad that guy didn’t pull the trigger.”

“You’re not the only one!”

“No, Herbie, if he had, we’d have been in trouble. Those grain silos can explode with that much dust in the air. It sounds crazy, but it’s no joke. We lucked out.”

Herbie nodded. “Lot luckier than Clyde and Antonio.”

Thom looked sick for a moment. All of this death, and for what? Just so that some second- or third-world nation could point at the fallen giant and laugh? It infuriated him.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it, Herbie. He would have killed me. You didn’t have a choice.”

Herbie nodded sadly. “I know, Thom. It just takes me back to places I don’t care to be.”

The two continued following the rail, eventually reaching the fork the men at the camp had spoken of. They followed it north, and soon Thom began to recognize his surroundings.

Occasionally, the sound of a lone engine would punctuate the still spring air, and the two would catch a glimpse of a motorcycle, or an old beat-up truck or car weaving through the cars parked on the interstate. The drivers were going slowly, but certainly much faster than the pace the two of them were keeping on foot.

Herbie looked on wistfully and pointed to a fallen tree. Thom nodded, and the two of them walked over and had a seat.

“Can’t let ourselves get too enticed by the thought of using a car, Herbie. If we heard those folks, who knows how many others did as well. What happens if they want the car worse than we do? At what point do the lives of strangers become worth less than a car that works?”

Herbie eyed Thom. “I know you’re speaking sense, Thom, and I appreciate that. These old bones are just talking to me, is all.”

Thom clapped the old man on the shoulder. “Together we can do this, Herbie. Thank you. For joining me. I don’t think I could make this trip alone.”

A mouthful of poorly maintained teeth smiled back at Thom.

“Pleasure’s mine, Thom. It’s been a while since I’ve left the city. Figured it’d do me a lot of good. Besides, I’d have to be a fool not to be a knight in shining armor to a bunch of cute college girls that might need rescuing.” The old man winked at Thom, who just shook his head in amusement, a wry grin on his face.

“Dirty old man.”

“Truth to that. Need a bath after all that excitement with the grain. Change of clothes wouldn’t hurt, either. Gotta get cleaned up for those co-eds.” The old man waggled his eyebrows.

“I’ve got some things that might fit you at the house. Some of my old hiking clothes might work.” Thom looked at the shoes on Herbie’s feet, patched with duct tape and…was that tire tread?

“What size shoe do you wear, Herbie?”

“Nine and a half.”

“I’m a ten. You can double up on socks and call it good.”

Herbie wrinkled his nose. “Now that’s a mighty high opinion of yourself. I’d call you a seven. Maybe an eight if you lost that spare tire.”

Both men laughed.

After making a meal of the MRE that John had so graciously provided the night before, they rose again, knowing that they needed to reach Thom’s home before sundown. The coming night could be another like the previous night, they knew, and if that was to be the case, they wanted to stay indoors as much as possible.

So, despite weary bones and aching muscles, the two men continued to walk.

As they continued on, the area surrounding the tracks eased from the urban industry of Independence, the town where the Oregon Trail began, and into the suburban sprawl of Liberty. Thom began to recognize the signs that he was nearing his home. The highways, the grocery stores, and, eventually, the water tower that marked the entrance to his neighborhood, just a few blocks from the highway.

Liberty was a rapidly growing suburb of Kansas City with a population hovering just under the 30,000 mark. It wasn’t the most diverse of cities, but it had almost everything most people considered necessary; several grocery stores, a great school district, excellent restaurants, and a beautiful, historic town center with homes well over a hundred years old and meticulously cared for.

Thom didn’t live in one of those neighborhoods. Just north of the historic district, a group of neighborhoods had sprung up in the 1970s. These homes provided affordable starter homes for young families and a nice place for the elderly populace to spend their days. Large oak trees dotted the neighborhood, with a healthy mix of pine and maple tossed in for good measure.

Passing under the large water tower, they entered the old neighborhood. It was mostly untouched by fire, thankfully, but it did look like there had been some families that had left in a hurry, judging by the random articles of clothing, some family photographs, and other items left behind in driveways and yards that must not have made the cut for what could be fit into the rare functioning car.

Herbie held a hand up, and Thom stopped and listened. Birds chirped and squirrels rustled through piles of leaves left over from the autumn. The smell of wood smoke hung heavy in the air, the branches of the trees dispersing it neatly, making it difficult to tell where exactly the source of the smoke was located. After a few seconds, the old man motioned them forward.

Voices. The sound of several people talking rang through the air. From the tone and volume of their voices, they weren’t trying to hide, and they seemed…happy.

Rounding the corner of the cul-de-sac, Thom and Herbie were confronted with a block party. Strangely, all of the attendees were elderly. None of the younger residents were present.

Thom recognized some of his neighbors, even if he didn’t know them by name. They’d met a few years ago at a similar party before Sarah had passed. She’d grown close with them over the years, and many of them had stopped by to offer their condolences and leave various casseroles and pies when she’d gone. Nice folks.

An older man waved Thom and Herbie over, a smile on his face.

“Thomas! Please, please, you and your friend must grab a plate! Come and eat!”

The older man spoke with an accent that Thom couldn’t initially place. Thinking back, he remembered the man and his wife were from Argentina. They’d lived and survived through some extremely difficult times there.

“Thank you, Guillermo. This is my friend Herbie. I met him in the city last night, he’s saved my life a couple of times since then. He’s a good man.”

Guillermo nodded, shaking Herbie’s hand. He waved a hand at an older woman talking with a group of other residents. “Rosa! Rosa, please come and help serve our guests.”

Thom held a hand up. “Guillermo, we can’t possibly take this food from you. We’re headed into some difficult times. You’ll need this.”

Rosa arrived just as Thom was finishing. “We survived worse during the
junta
, Thomas. Besides, the freezers are not working. The meat will spoil. Eat, eat.” Her breath smelled sweet, like overripe fruit. She smiled at them, a sad look in her eyes. Thom remembered then that Rosa was diabetic.

She piled their plates with beef, pork, beans, and other delicious things, smiling and chattering the entire time.

“How is Anna, Thomas?”

“I spoke with her yesterday, and she was doing well. Herbie and I are going to Columbia to catch up with her and bring her someplace safe. I’m worried about her, Rosa.”

“We’ll keep her in our prayers, Thomas. She was always such a lovely girl. So much like her mother.

Thomas teared up a bit with the sentiment. “Thank you, Rosa.” He thought for a moment, and then asked, “Rosa, where are the others?”

She smiled. “Thomas, many of our neighbors are Mormon. They believe that this is the time for Christ to return. They started marching this morning for Independence, heading to the Temple Lot.” She shrugged. “I wish them good luck, and safe travels, but their faith is not mine.”

Thomas nodded. He knew that Liberty and Independence were important for that particular faith but hadn’t invested the time into learning why.

Herbie and Thom ate their fill, sitting on folding chairs in the middle of the street. They spoke with their elderly neighbors, who seemed to be in good spirits. Eventually, though, it was time to head to his own home. He had to resupply and rest.

Just then, Guillermo headed over to their table, a grim look on his face. “Thomas, Rosa tells me that you and Herbie are traveling to Columbia soon to reunite with Anna. Please, come and talk with me at my home. There is some news I’d like to share.”

Thom smiled, thanking the man. “Guillermo, thank you again for your kindness. We’ll be back shortly to speak with you and your wife.”

Herbie dabbed a napkin at his mouth, wiping away some barbeque sauce. The man had eaten an astonishingly large amount of food. He stood then, and the two continued down the street to Thom’s house.

“Herbie, stay still. Don’t move.”

“Thom, what’s going on?”

“That’s my house” Thom said, pointing.

The house was a modest raised ranch of brick with cedar shakes for siding. The trim was painted a lovely pale green color. The front door was a darker shade of green, and it had been kicked open, the frame around the deadbolt clearly splintered.

Herbie retrieved his revolver and cocked the hammer back. “Stay here, Thom. I’m going in.”

Chapter 6 – Aftermath

Talia sat by her husband’s side, occasionally wiping the sweat from his forehead. Eventually, after what felt like eons, John moaned. “Talia?”

“Yeah, baby. I’m here.”

“I feel like I got hit by a truck. What happened?”

“When you fell, you dislocated your hip, John. You might have what’s called a labral tear. Basically, the piece of cartilage responsible for helping to hold your ball joint into its socket has been damaged. Without an MRI, it’s hard to tell how serious it is.”

John opened his eyes. Sunlight streamed through a nearby window, giving his Talia the halo of an angel. She was, at least to him.

“The gas?”

“Chlorine, from what we can tell. One of the fellows down the street is a bit of a History Channel aficionado. He said they used it in World War I, but that it wasn’t very effective.”

“Everyone’s okay?”

“Everyone but you. We were so worried, John!” Talia pulled closer, burying her face in his shoulder.

John wrapped his arms around his wife, holding her tightly.

“Where’s Juliana? Nathan?”

“Charlene is watching them. They’re fine. Juliana is actually the one who found you, John. She was outside playing in the front yard and said she heard your head hit the tree. She ran to help you, but the gas was already filling the backyard. She had to go inside and wait while it passed. She cried the whole time, John. She thought she failed you. As soon as we could leave, we rushed out back to cut you down. We’re very fortunate that it dissipated as quickly as it did. If it had gone on too much longer, you may have suffered some tissue damage from the lack of blood flow. I’ll bring her in for a visit when you’re in a little less pain.”

John smiled through gritted teeth. “What pain?” he lied.

Talia smiled. “There’s my man.”

The smiled slipped from her face for a moment, and when she spoke again, it was in a far more somber tone.

“John? The people are fine, but in our rush to get everyone to safety, we forgot to get the animals.”

John’s heart sank.

“The pygmy goats?”

She shook her head.

“Chickens?”

Again, Talia shook her head. A tear slipped down her cheek.

“Broilers
and
layers?”

She nodded.

“Talia that’s our entire inventory of livestock. We needed that stock to breed so that we could feed ourselves next year.”

“I know, darling. We’ll find a way. He’s always provided. We still have our seeds, so all is not lost.”

John grunted.

“Well, there’s nothing we can do about the animals now but eat them. Lungs get thrown out. Spread the word, we’re having a neighborhood-wide barbeque today. No beans and rice. We need to make sure this stuff gets eaten since we don’t have the time to preserve it all. Save the bones. We can make stock for soups in the future and can it.”

Talia nodded, a small smile breaking through the sadness.

“You read my mind, husband. I’ll have the cooking line get started right away.”

“Talia? Where’s Linus? We’ll need to send him out on a barter mission earlier than expected. We need to find someone who keeps chickens. Bees would also be good. If we can find more goats, that’d be great. We could use the milk, cheese, and butter.”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t seen him since before the gas. I’ll have the guys look around for him. Any thoughts on where you’ll start looking first?”

“Westport. I’m fairly sure there are some homeschool families there,” John grinned. “They usually have odd pets.”

Talia chuckled. “John,
we
homeschooled.”

John grinned wider. “And we had weird pets.”

“Noted.”

The two held one another a while longer before breaking their embrace.

“Talia? How long until I’m up on my feet?”

“It depends, John. Without an MRI, we can’t properly tell how badly the tear is, or if I’m actually correct. If it’s a minor tear, we’ll get Nancy Cornwallis down here, and she’ll help with some therapy. John, this is something that shouldn’t be rushed. Just rest for today. We’ll talk later, after Nancy’s had a chance to visit.”

John smiled.

“I love you, wife.”

“I love you more.”

The door closed, and John Willis was left alone with his thoughts. He didn’t like the direction they were headed.