Authors: Brad Manuel
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Post-Apocalyptic, #Teen & Young Adult
John put his arm around Solange.
“Why don’t you get lunch? I’m going to find a few chairs or tables from the
museum to throw on the fire.” He made his way over to a nearby building,
smashing a window, and unlocking the door.
Solange pulled off her work gloves
along with a pair of yellow latex gloves underneath. She tossed both sets of
gloves into the trunk. She jumped in the Hummer and started the car. The sun
was shining, and the interior was warm. She let the warmth soak into her
bones. It may have been 50 outside, but it was still chilly to her. The warm
car was a welcome change.
She pulled their lunch out of the
backseat, a wicker picnic basket with a leather strap. She unhooked the strap
and grabbed the large sausage sandwich made on a baguette. It was already
sliced in half. She had a bag of potato chips, a chocolate bar, and two
sodas.
John opened the door and got into
the car. “Oh man does this feel good.” He said to her. He flipped his gloves
into the backseat and squirted sanitizer onto his hands. “Soda? How did you
sneak two sodas?”
“The women are controlling the
camp. Todd thinks he controls the food. I asked Emily for the chips and
soda. It was easy.”
John grabbed one of the plastic
bottles. He twisted off the top and took a long drink. He closed his eyes and
grinned with satisfaction. “I don’t care that it’s warm, that is delicious.”
Soda was a dwindling resource, and rarely used.
“I cannot get used to the U.S. version
made with corn syrup. I enjoy the ones I used to have made with sugar.” She
popped a chip in her mouth, another soon to be lost luxury.
“Let’s drive over to the other park
while we eat.” He put the car into drive. “There are better areas to sit
outside and enjoy our picnic.”
“There may be better places, but I
am not leaving this warm car. I do not like the cold.” She buckled her
seatbelt as they drove lazily towards Back Bay. They took a ramp up to the
highway, over the bridge, and onto Cambridge Street.
“So that’s why you want to go to
Hawaii. You don’t care about anything other than ‘not being cold.’”
“It is a reason, just as valid as
any other.” She ate another chip and drank her soda.
Dan sat on the balcony of his house
reading
Dubliners
by James Joyce. He tried to alternate his reading
between popular less sophisticated novels, and ones he considered classics.
The other people he lived with were inside arguing about when to leave Boston for
a warmer climate. He wanted a break from the discussion. It was the same
fight day in and day out. He excused himself and retired to the second story
deck, outfitted with comfortable chairs and a dining table. The sun felt warm
as he read. He was in jeans and a thick flannel shirt. He wore a red, white,
and blue cotton knit stocking cap, a habit picked up over his last decade in
New England.
It was not Dan’s house. It was
owned by a friend who died from the rapture while vacationing in Bali. Dan
knew it had a half dozen fireplaces, heavy stone walls, and was a perfect place
to ride out a New England winter while he and his new friends figured out how
to survive the apocalypse.
Dan lost his wife and five children
to the rapture. He worked part of the year in Boston and lived the rest of the
year in Seattle. He and his family were in Rhode Island when the disease struck.
Dan was a man of power and influence, but he could not save his family. His
private plane was grounded. The hospitals were closed. When his family died
like so many others, he was left to figure out how to survive a Boston winter
without food, water, or electricity.
He was a laid back guy from
Seattle, but possessed a work ethic that rivaled anyone alive. Blessed with a
gift for leadership, and backed by a relentless pursuit of excellence,
perfection, and knowledge, his talents and drive brought him unfathomable success,
success that died with the rapture.
Stripped of his prestige and
wealth, Dan focused on survival. He carefully studied potential houses and
locations before choosing his friend’s house in the Back Bay area of Boston.
He learned how to fish and catch seafood in the abandoned Boston harbor. He
kept physically fit without burning too many calories and jeopardizing his
food. Dan managed every controllable aspect of his life.
The other people who survived and currently
lived with Dan did not fall into the controllable category.
Dan met Ryan, a lawyer, after the
military disappeared from Boston. The men decided to merge their survival
operations. Those were the words Ryan used to describe the partnership. Dan,
though he did not particularly like Ryan, knew two people had a better chance of
surviving the winter than one.
The men met Karen, a pediatric
nurse, several weeks later. She was wandering the streets, dehydrated, and
hungry.
Lucinda was the fourth survivor.
They did not know her last name, what she did, or from where she came. She had
a Texas accent, but claimed to be from Medford, Massachusetts. She was sitting
on their back steps one afternoon when the group returned from scavenging. She
walked through the back door that afternoon, and had yet to leave the house since.
Dan spent most of his time looking
for wood, fuel, water, and food. They had lobster traps set in the harbor. He
checked the traps and fished when the weather agreed. He tried to stay out of
the house as much as he could. When he was home, he read quietly in his room
or outside.
He needed his alone time today.
Five months cramped into a house with people he did not like was exhausting. Dan
did not know what to do, but he would not accept a life with Lucinda and Ryan.
He was going to break away. Karen was a good person, a hard worker, and did
not bother him. He had already asked her to leave with him.
Dan finished the third short story
in his new book, used a picture of his family as a bookmark, and looked at the
city.
He saw a thick black stream of
smoke billowing from across the Charles River. It was a clear day. The
electricity had been off for months. There was no way a fire started
spontaneously.
“Survivors,” he muttered to
himself.
Dan dropped the book on his chair
and ran inside. “There are people in the city. They just started a fire
across the river.”
The group sitting at the table
looked at him, mouths agape. Ryan was the first to stand. “Let’s check it
out.” He walked to a closet and retrieved his coat and a gun. Karen and
Lucinda remained seated.
“Do we know if they’re friendly?”
Lucinda asked in her heavy Texas accent.
“I see a fire burning. It might
not be people at all, but there isn’t any other explanation. No, I don’t know
if they are friend or foe.” Dan told her. “Would you like to stay here while
Ryan and I check it out?” It was not a real question. Lucinda was not leaving
the house.
“I’d like to go.” Karen stood,
“but I understand if we leave Lucinda behind, you know, to be safe.” Karen
went to the closet. She was in her late twenties. Nine months ago she was a
morbidly obese nightshift nurse at Boston Children’s Hospital. Today she was
down 120 pounds, and excited for an adventure with Dan and Ryan.
Lucinda was scared.
“Lucy, stay here, we got this.”
Dan grabbed a walkie talkie from the table next to the door, turned it on and
set it in front of Lucinda. “We’ll keep you up to date.”
Lucinda’s shoulders, tense with
worry, eased slightly. “You don’t mind?” She asked, calming at the prospect
of staying in the house.
“We’ll go, you stay here. I’d ask
you to watch for more activity, but whatever.” Ryan used a tone of derision
and shame towards the woman. Lucinda barely stepped out on the balcony let
alone the house.
They left Lucinda behind and headed
to Dan’s truck, a four door Ford pickup parked behind the house. It was four
wheel drive, could haul or move anything, and the cab warmed faster than any
car manufactured, at least Dan believed it warmed faster than any car he ever
owned.
“I bet it’s tourists. I could
swear the fire is at Bunker Hill.” Dan joked. He pulled the gear on the
steering wheel and they drove towards the smoke. He headed onto Storrow Drive.
The road gave them the best view up the river and the source of the smoke.
Ryan was looking towards the fire
when he noticed a neon green vehicle on the highway bridge going south.
“Holy shit! Dan, Karen, it’s a
Hummer, a bright green Hummer.” Ryan swore like a sailor.
Dan slammed on the breaks, swung
the truck around, and tried to keep the glowing green vehicle in his sights.
His truck was headed on an intercept pattern at North Station. Dan leaned on
his horn, accelerating to get ahead of the slow moving Hummer.
Solange and John drove casually
down the highway, enjoying their conversation, chips, and soda. “Did you hear
that?” Solange asked. Her ears were younger than John’s.
“What?”
She rolled down her window. The
sound of a car horn blared. John slowed the Hummer to a stop. He was about to
enter a tunnel, but stayed outside of the mouth and in the sunlight. He did
not see another car, but he heard the horn.
“Do you see anyone?” He asked
Solange. They were in an artificial valley, a walled part of the highway just
before the tunnel. They had two ways to look, up or back.
John sat down in his seat. “Well,
I’m going to eat my sandwich. Let’s give them a little while. They saw us.
They signaled us.” He shrugged his shoulders and took a bite of the hoagie.
“It is delicious, right? Todd is
becoming a master at the bread.” She continued to enjoy her half of the
sandwich. They ate their lunch in silence, waiting for whoever honked the car
horn to find them.
Dan stopped the truck. Ryan stood
in the flatbed looking over the edge of the road that entered the tunnel.
Ryan’s face appeared in the open driver’s window.
“They’re stopped at the entrance to
the tunnel. I could swear they are eating lunch or something. If I had to
guess, they heard the horn and are waiting for us.”
“Get in and let’s go meet our new
friends.” Dan looked at Karen as they waited for Ryan to get back into the
truck. “Are you ready for this?” He asked her.
“I was getting a little tired of
the three of you. It will be nice to meet new faces.” She smiled.
Ryan got into the passenger’s
seat. He pulled a handgun from his jacket pocket and made sure the safety was
off and a round was in the chamber.
“Seriously?” Dan asked him.
“I don’t trust anyone.” Ryan did
not look at Dan when he replied, he continued to check his weapon. “We have
food, water, heat. Those are things people might want to steal. They aren’t
taking them from me.”
Dan shook his head. “What an
idiot” he thought.
Dan put the car in reverse and
drove backwards across the causeway. He went up the exit ramp for 93S and hung
a sharp right. He could see the green Hummer idling just outside of the
tunnel. He accelerated to a moderate speed before parking next to a man and a
woman eating sandwiches and drinking soda.
“Are they having a picnic?” Karen
stuck her head between the front seats. She faced away from the green car so
her lips could not be read. “I swear to god, they’re having a picnic.”
John waved and rolled down his
window. The situation was surreal. John made the universal ‘roll down your
window’ signal by twirling his hand in a circle. Ryan obliged, as did Karen
from the rear seat.
“Hello. My name is John and this
is my friend Solange. We came from New Hampshire looking for survivors. We
represent a group of twenty some people.”
“And a dog” Solange said behind
him.
“Oh, and a dog, and we are hoping
to meet people like you to invite you to join us.” He took a quick bite of his
sandwich. John had a feeling he would not have the opportunity to finish his
lunch once they got out of the Hummer. He was starved from the morning, and
wanted to eat as much of his sandwich as possible.
Karen spun around again. “Did he
say they have a dog?”
Dan turned off the truck and opened
his door. He walked around the front of both cars and towards Solange’s side
of the Hummer. She saw him coming to her door. She opened it and got out.
John put his sandwich down. His jaw was on the floor when he recognized who
was walking around the front of his car.
“Hello, my name is Dan.” Solange
accepted his handshake.
“Solange Wright. Very nice to meet
you, Dan.”
“You don’t sound like you’re from
New Hampshire.” He gave her a quizzical look.
“I am from Ecuador. I was studying
at Virginia Commonwealth University and became stranded in Richmond, Virginia.
I met John and his family as they made their way to New Hampshire.”
“Well, again, my name is Dan. I
have two friends, Karen and Ryan talking to John through the window. We have
one more survivor named Lucinda. She is a shy, and decided to stay in our
house until we discovered the source of the thick black smoke.”
“We lit the fire. We were
finishing our lunch and driving to Beacon Bay to start a similar signal fire.”
“It’s Back Bay or Beacon Hill.”
Dan corrected her with a smile, “Although I guess it’s not really anything
anymore.” Dan took a step back, shook his head, and continued to smile. He
was suddenly overwhelmed by the situation. “You’re real, you’re actually
survivors, and there are over twenty of you?” He touched his fingers to his
eyes. “I know it’s not over, I know this is still a nightmare, but,” Tears
rolled down his face.
Solange opened her arms and stepped
into the tall man’s grasp. “So many times we debated leaving, debated trying
to make a break for Florida or back to my home in Seattle.” He squeezed her
tightly. “But we stuck to our guns. We knew there have to be other people,
and we gave it until May.”
He stopped talking. Solange was a
good judge of character, and she liked Dan instantly. She knew he needed a
moment, a few seconds to absorb the realization that he was saved. She had
been rescued herself, she knew the feeling. She understood his elation and
relief.
Dan let her go. “Let’s get you
back to our house. I can jump in with, John is it? Ryan can drive the
truck.” Dan looked over the hood of the Hummer. “Hey Ryan, slide over and
drive the truck back. I’ll jump in here and get them over to the house.”
Ryan grimaced.
“Well, John, I will see you in a
second.” Karen said to her new friend.
Solange got into the Hummer after
waving to the truck.
Ryan had yet to say a word to John
or Solange. He sat in the front seat, his eyes narrow. “I look forward to
talking about options and making some decisions.” He told John before rolling
up his window and moving to the driver’s seat. Karen waved from the back
window.
The rear door of the Hummer opened
and the tall man got in. His hand shot through the gap in the front seat.
“John, very nice to meet you, Dan Couples.”
“Hi, Dan.” John tried to keep his
cool as he shook the man’s hand. “I am a big fan.”
Solange gave John an odd look.
“What do you mean?” She asked him, looking back at their passenger.
“Dan is a pretty famous person. He
is the quarterback of the New England Patriots.” John did not let go of Dan’s
hand. “Seriously, I’m a huge fan.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it, but
none of that means very much now. I’m just a survivor like the rest of you.”
He nodded at John, acknowledging the compliment.
John finally let go of Dan, turned
around and caught his breath. He took a moment to compose himself. “Dan
Couples! I’m in a car with Danny Couples!” He screamed in his head. John was like
a little kid meeting one of his idols.
He calmed down enough to ask his
new passenger, “Um, where am I going?” John tried to sound collected, but his
voice cracked a bit from excitement.