The Second Intelligent Species: The Cyclical Earth (13 page)

We’d never been formally introduced. “My name’s Nick. Your shoulders are feeling better aren’t they?” The rain must have softened up his sores.

“Mick… just like the man with all the pills? He was nice and the medicine he gave me makes me feel better. He gave me a whole bunch. He told me to only take half of one when it starts to hurt. I still have two bags full.”

Now I was actually listening to him. “My name is Nick, with an N. Did you say Mick gave you bags of pills? Do you still have them? Can I see them?”

“He told me never to show them to anyone or even talk about them. I guess he can’t get into any trouble now, can he?” He reached into his back pockets and pulled out two baggies, each packed to the point of ripping. He handed them to me. “Don’t tell anybody. Mick told me not to.”

I thought about what to say for a couple of seconds. “I think we should show these to the nurses, they know more about this stuff than I do. You hold on to it until we get someplace dry. You’ve got better pockets. Keep it in the baggies, and I’ll let you tell Beth. We‘ll see what she says.”

“Okay, Nick.” He tucked the overstuffed baggies back into his pockets, being careful not to rip the plastic.

It didn’t take long to see that we hadn’t washed the steel enough. There was still a lot of soot on the water when we looked at it with the flashlight. We dumped out the water that was in
the pot, and proceeded to scrub the roofing again. This time it would be clean enough to drink.

Marcos and I set up the rain catcher again. It was raining so hard that we would accumulate more than we needed in no time.

While we were waiting for the pot to fill up, Marcos and I pulled some more metal off the rubble. We constructed a lean-to to keep the rain off the little ones.

Soon all the bellies were full of water, as were the vessels we carried. The rain was letting up; it was time to move on.

All the time we gathered our gear together, I waited for Marcos to talk to Beth.

She was busy with all the children and didn’t respond to anybody who wasn’t crying.

Once we started walking, the little ones went to sleep again. We all took turns carrying the babies. Their tummies were full, even if it was only water.

We needed to find food and shelter. I knew that the building where Beth and I had spent the night wasn’t much further up the road.

We had trouble finding the structure in the darkness. It stopped raining. I was glad Marcos and I had collected water when we had.

We came to the abandoned car with the doors open. I remembered this one. “We’ve got to turn around and go back,” I said. “I missed the
spot that we’re going to camp for the night, it’s back this way about a mile or so.”

“God damn it, I can’t carry these kids forever.” Sarah was carrying Adam in her right arm, and Eve in her left. She bounced the boy on her hip to adjust the weight. “How in hell can you tell where to fuck we are?”

The abrupt movement woke the child, who started crying immediately. I was appreciative for the interruption because I had never told Beth about the man and the girls, and didn’t want to explain how I knew where I was, but especially didn’t want them to see the dead priest. We turned back the way we came from one more time.

The wailing was contagious and it wasn’t long before all the children were crying, all except Marcos. The crying was intolerable. Marcos and I walked up ahead of the others just to escape the irritation. Beth stayed back with the other nurses and children. I could hear them talking but couldn’t hear what they were saying.

“I think you better tell my wife about your pills in your pocket, they could help keep the kids quiet.”

“Mick said not to tell anyone about ’em.”

“Mick’s …” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I was so inept when dealing with a child. I couldn’t tell him that I saw Mick’s head on a pole. “Mick’s not here is he? Tell her soon, okay?”

“Okay, Nick. I’ll tell her.”

I half expected him to go running up to Beth. I had a way of driving kids away. It’s not that I didn’t like them, but they didn’t like me. I guess I caught a case of, “Grumpy old man syndrome” before it was due; kind of like some guys having male pattern baldness when they’re in their twenties. Often I’d envisioned myself hoarsely screaming at neighborhood boys. “Hey, get away from my apple trees!” I’d yell as I shook my cane.

We walked silently, except for the constant crying. The visions of the man and his daughters in their final resting place appeared in my mind’s eye. The more I tried to erase it, the more I thought about it.

I was glad to see the wires that were leading to and from the substation. I knew we were close. I should have noticed them before. This navigation mistake, which was totally my fault, wasted energy—energy that we couldn’t afford.

Finally, with the help of the flashlight, the protective fencing appeared. All the women and children went into the block building.

Marcos and I went looking for wood. There was nothing small to be found. We still had the hatchet, and even though there was little kindling, it didn’t take long to shave off enough charred bark to get at the dry wood underneath. Marcos made a bundle that was easily carried by wrapping wire
around the chips and slivers that I hacked off. The whole thing ended up looking like a ball of copper yarn with the occasional piece of wood sticking out. It would take a pretty big cat whacked out on catnip to play with this yarn.

Looking at the bundle, I came up with an idea for a new torch. But first we had to get the fire going.

“When we get back, you tell my wife what you have in your pocket. Is that understood Marcos?”

“Okay.” He continued to gather wood as if I hadn’t even spoken.

“Marcos, I’m not kidding.” Maybe that was why I wasn’t good with kids. I wasn’t very patient.

We walked the short distance back to the substation. It was quiet until we walked into the building. A baby’s crying broke the silence. The children were being fed food from the wagons we’d left behind; they remained untouched.

“Beth, Marcos has something to tell you.” I could tell she wasn’t in the mood for games and this had better be important. The relentless bawling was more than she was accustomed to. Her grandchildren had never given her this much torment, but then they always had full stomachs and clean diapers.

Even with all the stress caused by the children, she managed to talk to him with a polite
tone in a caring manner. “What do you have to tell me, Marcos? Come over here and tell me what’s wrong.”

“He told me not to tell anybody,” he whispered.

The flashlight pointed directly in my eyes. “It’s okay. She’s a nurse and she’ll know what’s right.

After some silent hesitation he eventually built up the courage and walked over to her. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Tell anyone what, Marcos?” Beth asked.

“Don’t tell anyone that I showed you these.” He struggled to pull the bags of pills out of his overstuffed pockets. One of the bags tore open, revealing its contents on the floor of the building. “Promise you won’t tell?”

“Let’s see what you’ve got there.” She leaned forward to pick up some of the pills to examine. “Can I borrow your flashlight? I promise I won’t tell.”

He handed the light to her.

“Thank you.”

Now all the nurses’ attentions were drawn away from their little patients, though the crying continued. The flashlight was passed around so each could give her own opinion.

“This is Oxycotin,” Maria said.

“No it isn’t, it’s Hydrocodone,” Sarah said.

“He’s got both.” Each hand held a sandwich bag full. “Marcos, Mick gave you these?”

“He said that he would rather have me have them, than have some weasel get them. Do weasels eat them? What’s a weasel?”

“Nick, give me your knife. I want to shave a little off one to give to Adam and Megan.” They were the children doing most of the crying. Adam had burns on his legs, and Megan cried constantly as if in pain, but showed no obvious wounds.

I reached for my knife only to discover the loop had broken. Two pats of each pocket were enough to tell me that I had lost the most important item we had recovered since we crawled out of that culvert. “I lost my knife, do you still have your tool, you used to kill…ah…stab…uh, or…save me?” I knew that the last thing she wanted was for the other women to know about the tower incident. I also knew she’d never talk about it again.

Beth’s right jean pocket still held the tool. She pulled out the murder weapon, opened the blade, and washed it off with water from her canteen.

Gingerly, she shaved off some of the pill. “Here… give this to them, just put it under their tongue.” She passed the sliver to Sarah.

Sarah lashed out. “We know how. Remember we were nurses too; in the city… not some retarded country clinic.”

“You’re a nurse and you still use that word!” From the day Sally was born Beth detested when somebody used the “R” word in a derogatory fashion. “I would think you would be more educated and professional than that, working in the big city and all.”

“Just give me some of that,” Sarah said as she took some of the shavings and administered them to her tiny patient.

Once the medicine kicked in, it was silent again. Some slept; others stared blankly at the fire. Beth and Sarah swapped glares.

Chapter 18

New Wheels

Adam and Eve started our day with cries of pain. Both had sustained second-degree burns on their hands and lower arms. Eve’s face and head showed burn marks where embers had landed. Once one of us was awake, we all were. After all were fed, we made our way towards I-90. Marcos led the way pulling Megan and Tara in one of the wagons. The other contained the remainder of the food and drinks. We all switched off between carrying a child or pulling the wagon with the food, but Marcos refused to give up his turn. He was having too much fun. His burns no longer bothered him. The exercise loosened his tight skin giving him a wider range of motion than simply walking.

It was nice to hear the little ones laughing. Every time the wagon dropped off the tarmac, both Megan and Tara would giggle hysterically. The laughter was contagious. Nobody can avoid laughing when children are enjoying themselves. It took our mind off things for a while

The meat factory was over a mile away. Prevailing westerly winds carried clues to the condition of any food that might have made it through the fire. A ditch running along the road teamed with rats going in both directions. Those coming from the site were noticeably fatter than those heading in the opposite direction. Their squeaks could be heard over the sound of the wagons. I dealt with rats on a daily basis before this happened, but had never seen anything like this. At times they would climb over each other where the ditch narrowed.

“You know we could eat a lot of meat if you let me catch a few dozen of those,” I said, already knowing the answer I would get.

“There isn’t any fucking way I’m going to eat those filthy things.” Sarah’s hands waved back and forth. “I’ll die of starvation first.”

“We might not have any choice,” Beth snapped. “There is not going to be any help. We are on our own. There may not be much else to eat for a long time.”

Sarah stood silent for at least a minute and then said, “How many would you need to catch to feed all eight of us?”

Step by step, the light of the torch revealed a quarter of the massive structure still stood on the thirty-acre lot. Shells of employee vehicles littered the parking lot. Few bodies were found in or
around the parts of the building that had collapsed, though the plant employed hundreds. Thousands of vats used to grow meat could be seen under the twisted steel. Bloated slabs of animal tissue spilled over the edges and onto the floor, only to be gorged on by vermin. The slime oozing along the ground was as slippery as it was putrid. Turning each corner sent the small animals running in all directions. Each time the wind changed, we would be forced to back off and head upwind.

The further we made it into the building, the less fire damage we found; some rooms were untouched. We entered a steel door leading to a stairwell that led us to a parking garage. No longer used for parking, it had been converted to office space, locker rooms, and a mechanic’s shop. Rows of lockers containing uniforms lined the walls of showers. That’s where I found most of the employees.

I turned around to stop Marcos. I shined the light between us. “Marcos, stay right here while I look around. Don’t move from this spot, okay? I will keep talking to you.” I didn’t want to leave him alone in the dark, but I couldn’t let him see what I’d found. “You okay out there?”

“Yes, but it is dark.”

I pointed the flashlight at the entrance to the showers. The blue ceramic tile reflected enough
light to figure out what happened here. “Is that better?”

“Okay. Can I come in with you now?” His voice echoed.

I could hear him scuff the floor as he started in. “No! You stay out there. I’ll be right out.” I turned the flashlight back into the showers one more time. About thirty bodies lay in a pool of water inside the shower. No water flowed out of the showerheads, though all the cold handles were turned on high. These people tried to escape the heat by staying under the cold running water. None had burns. The oxygen was sucked outside to feed the inferno. They all died of asphyxiation. “Here I come, Marcos. Let’s go back into the mechanic’s shop and see if we can find some tools or something.” As I turned I caught him looking in.