Reckoning ~ Indian Hill 2 ~ A Michael Talbot Adventure (17 page)

The air seemed stale and dingy. A brown cloud hung over everything. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought she was in downtown L.A. during rush hour. Unbeknownst to the girls at the time, however, the brown cloud hung over the entire planet. Fires still raged in most of the major cities. It would be a long time before the winds of change took away the pollution.

“How are we possibly going to catch them if they are in a car? Do you know where the keys are for your dad’s car?” Beth asked as she pointed in the general direction of the blue two-door.

“Yeah, with my dad.”

“Doesn’t he have an extra set?” When Deb shook her head no, Beth pressed on. “What about your mom? She must have a set.”

“No, she never liked that car for some reason; she never drove it.”

“So what now?”

“Well, I know most likely where they are going. If we hoof it through some backyards and shortcuts, we shouldn’t be too far behind them.”

“Where to then?”

“Well, I bet that they’ll start at the Safeway down the street. If we stick to the shortcut, we could be there in about ten minutes.” Now that the realization of leaving their security began to set in, Beth started to get cold feet.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? What if we run down there and they’re on their way back? We’ll never beat them, and your dad won’t be too happy.”

“What’s he going to do? Ground me?”

“Good point. But I still don’t feel right about this.”

“Beth, we can’t stay in here forever. One way or the other, we need to go out and see what’s happening.”

Beth knew she was right, it didn’t make leaving any easier though. It wasn’t exactly the Taj Mahal but it suited their purposes. Besides, she told herself, her parents must be worried sick about her. If she could find a phone that worked, she’d let them know she was alright.

It never occurred to her that her parents wouldn’t be alright. They were the rocks that her life was anchored to. How could the Earth possibly still be spinning if her parents were no longer here? Beth had no way of knowing if her parents had survived the initial assault. They lived far enough out in the suburbs to avoid the major thrust of the enemy’s deadly invasion. Their demise if it should happen, would come more likely from the local variety, looters or opportunists who would take things from people’s homes whether they were there or not. 

Mr. MacAvoy put up a modest struggle when they had come, but when one of the youth’s thirty-two-inch Louisville slugger connected with the back of his head, he crumbled like a sheet of paper on its edge. Mrs. MacAvoy fared even worse. After being repeatedly violated while she stared at the still, lifeless body of her husband, they had simply disemboweled her. They left her to die as she struggled to keep her innards from spilling out. Beth would never know what truly happened to her parents and it was for the best.

The girls walked in silence as they took note of the destruction around them. Multiple forest fires could be seen on the horizon. Countless houses appeared as if micro tornadoes had touched down and ripped them apart. The destruction seemed random, a row of houses would be destroyed and then one would stand as if nothing at all had happened. The girls stayed off the roadway even though it was not hindered by traffic. There was no one on the road.

The city was eerily quiet, almost like it was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. On occasion, the girls noticed a shade being moved to the side or a curtain quickly dropping back into place. If they turned to
look at it, nobody came out to greet them or confront them. Deb was perplexed; most of the people had been her neighbors for as long as she could remember.

“What is going on here? Why won’t anybody come out?” Beth intoned.

“I think they’re scared, Beth.” Deb answered warily.

“Of us? Are you kidding? We don’t even have so much as a butter knife on us.” Beth wanted to laugh out loud but was afraid she might start crying instead.

“Right now, I think that if we were three-year-olds with pails and shovels, they wouldn’t even come out,” Deb answered miserably.

“How much farther to the grocery store? I don’t think I can take too much more of this,” Beth said with just an edge of anxiety riddling her voice.

“We just have to cross over two more side streets and then up an embankment, and we’ll be there,” Deb answered. She had picked up on Beth’s nervousness and feared that it might be catching. The girls crested the top of the embankment when Deb yanked Beth down to the ground.

“Ow! What the hell did you do that for?” Beth semi-shouted indignantly. Deb put her finger to her mouth and pointed down into the parking lot of the Safeway. Her parents were talking, no, if she could hear them from this distance, it had to be shouting.

“Who are your parents talking to? And why are they yelling?” Beth asked.

“Well, the guy in front is the manager of the store; the guy to his left, with the rifle, owns the barbershop next door. I have no idea who the other guy is,” Deb answered.

“What are they yelling about?”

“If you’d shut up for a second, maybe we’d find out,” Deb answered, a little more snappishly than she meant to.

“Sorry,” Beth whispered. Deb nodded her head in acknowledgement.

“You can’t come in here, James.” The balding, squat manager said.

“Bob, my wife and I have been shopping here for twenty years. I don’t want stuff for free. I’ll pay for it.”

“Your money’s no good here, James. Money’s no good anywhere,” “Bob, I’ve got a family to take care of! Just let me get a few things and we’ll leave.” Bob shook his head no. It was clear to Beth, however, that had Bob been acting alone, he may have helped the Carodys.

“James, I can’t help you. I, we have got to look out for the people that are already here.” James threw what appeared to be money at Bob.

“Fuck this, Bob! I’m going in to get a few things and I’ll be out of your way.”

Deb gasped.

“What’s the matter, Deb?”

“I don’t think that I’ve ever heard my father swear before. That’s all.”

It was then that Mr. Smythe, the barbershop owner, stepped in front of her dad to bar his way. The man was pushing sixty and thin as a wisp. But his steel-blue eyes burned a cobalt blue, visible even from a distance. He looked menacing, especially since he was carrying a huge, double-barreled shotgun.

“James, I can’t let you in.”

“Can’t? Or won’t, Al?” The blue fire in Al’s eyes diminished ever so slightly. “Al, I’ve been getting my hair cut at your place for fifteen years. Hell, we’ve gone fishing before. You’ve come over to my house for barbecues.”

“James, you don’t understand. There’s only a finite amount of stuff in there and it’s being used up rapidly. What isn’t already bad is beginning to rot without refrigeration.”

“Alright, Al. Just let me get some of the stuff that’s on the fringe and I’ll leave.” Al and Bob both had their heads bowed, on the verge of acquiescing. They had run off multiple marauders, but not one of their own. Not their neighbor and friend.

“Five minutes, James; that’s all.”

“Whoa! Just wait a fucking minute!” the stranger shouted out, leveling his weapon at Deb’s father.

The man looked to be in his early twenties and, more than likely, had been a bouncer formerly. He was huge and looked bigger with his wife-beater T-shirt on. “Now, just wait a goddamn minute!” he repeated.

“Son, I don’t know who you are, but you had best stop pointing that weapon at me,” Deb’s father warned with controlled anger.

“I’ll point this fucking thing at whomever I please!” he shouted.

“Matt, put the gun down. I’ve already told him that he could get a few things.”

“You might have told him that it was alright, old man, but I never agreed to that. We’ve only got enough food in there for maybe another two weeks and I have no desire to share it with anybody else.”

“Matt, that’s the point; we have two weeks’ worth, he has none,” the manager said as he stepped to James’ side in a show of solidarity.

“That’s just too bad for him! He should have crept out from his hidey-hole or wherever the hell he was when we ALL agreed that we would not let anybody else in, no matter who they were.”

“This is different, Matt. He’s one of my neighbors,” Al piped in.

“I don’t give a goddamn if he’s the Pope’s neighbor. I’m not letting him in.”

“Well, sonny,” James started. “It appears it is two to one in favor of letting me in. Hon, come on.” Mrs. Carody had been waiting in the car. Her shivering racked her entire body and she had just begun to mobilize herself to get out of the car when the shot rang out. Mr. Carody slumped over, holding the wound in his belly.

“What are you doing?!” Bob yelled.

“It…it was an accident,” Matt fairly wailed. “H-h-he pushed up against me and the gun just went off.”

“Guns don’t just go off, you idiot! Sarah! Get the first aid kit!” Al yelled inside the store. James was down on his knees. Mrs. Carody had rushed to her husband's side and was attempting to staunch the flow of blood, but it leaked through her fingers like water. Deb was beginning to rise in panic to go to the aid of her father when she was violently yanked down by Beth.

“What are you doing, Beth?! That’s my father!”

“Yeah, and you’re not going to do him any good if you go down there and start yelling at that idiot. He’s liable to shoot you too.” If that happened, Beth thought to herself, she would be all alone. She knew it was selfish, but that was the first thought that ran through her head. Deb was quaking with rage. If she had any type of weapon, she would have used it without a moment’s hesitation on that man.

“Beth! Let me go! I’ve got to go down there!” Deb nearly shouted. Beth didn’t release her death grip on Deb’s waist. “Beth, let me go! I mean it!” Deb struggled a bit before beginning to sob uncontrollably. “What is going on? What is going on?!” she cried into the ground.

Beth watched in horror as the three men began to walk back into the store after just dropping the first aid kit at Deb’s mother’s feet. That was the catalyst that got Mrs. Carody moving. She was chasing after the men, screaming.

“So that’s it! You bastards shoot my husband and then give me some Band-Aids and turn tail!? You fucking cowards!”  Deb was too scared and in too much shock to even lift her head to see the macabre scene that was unfolding. Bob, the store manager, tried in vain to calm her mother down.

“Mrs. Carody, we’re all sorry that this happened. It was an accident,” he apologized as he turned his steely gaze towards Matt. Matt merely looked down as he, again, retreated back to the relative refuge of the Safeway.

“Calm down!? My husband’s been shot!” she said as she raised her bloodied hands, as if to reaffirm the fact.

“Then you had better go tend to him,” Al said as he tried to fend off her pursuit of Matt.

“You animals! You’re worse than the aliens attacking us. He’s your neighbor, your friend. Help him!” she pleaded. All will had been drained from her body. She plopped to her knees in almost the same position as her dying husband. The three men returned to the store and shut the door behind them. They even pulled the sunshades in an attempt to try to ignore what was happening.

“Come on, Deb. They went into the store. We have to help your folks.” Deb tried to focus her eyes, her tears left her partially blinded. She stumbled forward before Beth grabbed her by the arm to lead her down the other side of the embankment.

Mrs. Carody had returned to her husband’s side and helped him lie down on the hard pavement of the parking lot. She barely registered the fact that the girls had arrived.

“Mom?” Deb cried. “Are you alright?”

“Your dad’s been shot,” Mrs. Carody mumbled.

“I know, Mom. Let’s try to get him some help.”

“It’s too late, you know,” Mrs. Carody muttered. Deb thought that perhaps her mom was showing the initial signs of shock. Detached indifference was her first clue.

“No, Mom; he’s not dead. He can’t be dead.” Deb’s mom looked up at her daughter as she cradled her husband’s head in her lap.

“Hon, he’s not bleeding anymore.”

“Mom? That’s a good thing, right?” Deb cried.

“He’s not bleeding, Deborah, because his heart has stopped. Don’t you get it?” Mrs. Carody snapped.

“Mom, he can’t be dead. He can’t,” she said as she dropped to the ground to hug her father. God, he feels cold already, she unconsciously thought to herself.

“He’s gone, dear, and you should go too. There’s nothing more left for you here,” Mrs. Carody said tenderly.

“Mom, what about you? I can’t leave without you.” Deb sobbed anew.

“I’m not leaving him. I’ll never leave him.”

“Mom, please, you’re scaring me. You can’t stay here, we’ve got to go. Dad would have wanted that.” Deb tried to grab her mother’s arm, but her mother pulled away violently, the angelic look on her face quickly diminishing. What was left looked old, haggard and tired.

“Beth, take Deborah and get her out of here. I will not leave James. He was my world.”

“No, Mom, please! What about me? You can’t leave me alone. We still have each other.”