Contents
“Caitlin was talking to somebody in a pickup,” Little Ben was telling Big Ben — or rather, his camera. “I was afraid she would get in, so I hit her with the soccer ball. She picked it up and threw it back, and that’s when I woke up.” Little Ben went back to his lunch.
“That’s… eerie,” Jennifer said, and Big Ben turned the camera on her. “Caitlin said she had the exact same dream last night! What the hell is going on?”
“Beats me,” Ben said, putting the camera down. “But a lot of people had some kind of dream about the trucks last night. Did you?”
“I might have.” Jennifer paused, scratched her head, looked at her fingers. “Damn, I hate not being able to wash my hair every night. My scalp itches. I think I had a dream, but I don’t remember it.”
“Several people had similar — or identical — dreams last night.”
“I guess the trucks are all on our minds more than we think. It stands to reason, I guess — they took away almost everyone we knew and cared about.” Jennifer raised her mug and slurped. “Who made the soup? This didn’t come out of a can!”
“Some of it did,” someone said from the next table over. “Miss Sally put it together. All of it came out of cans, but she made it soup. Max made the rolls, they’re pretty good too.”
Kelly dropped into a chair across from Cody and Sondra, surprising them both. “Hey,” Kelly said, then slurped some soup from her mug. “Hm, that’s pretty good.”
Sondra glanced at Cody, looking at his mug as if trying to decide if he wanted it, then back at Kelly. She felt a flash of annoyance at the intrusion. Kelly looked much like any young woman these days: dressed in a sweater and jeans, but just a little tight instead of comfortable and slightly loose-fitting, showing off her body to best effect. Sondra wasn’t nearly as well-endowed… not that Cody seems to mind, she thought, and almost smiled. Like Sondra’s, Kelly’s hair was slightly greasy and pulled back in a ponytail. Nobody under forty bothered with makeup these days, but Sondra had to admit that Kelly looked good without it — and everyone was getting toned, walking or bicycling everywhere and gathering food and firewood and other items against the coming winter. Still, Kelly was pretty in a way Sondra never would be. But looks aren’t everything, are they? she found herself thinking. You thought you could slag him off until you were ready to own him… you snooze, you lose.
“You heard, right?” Kelly asked. Cody looked up at Kelly, but she was looking at Sondra.
“The dreams?” Sondra felt a chill, and her right arm tingled for a moment.
“Yeah. So was I in your dream last night, or were you in mine?”
Cody: “What was your dream about?”
Kelly scowled. “I was riding fifth wheel on your honeymoon trip, God knows why, and your car started turning into a pickup. You and Sondra jumped out, and I was trying to get out before my door disappeared or the damn truck crashed.”
“Yeah, that was my dream, too,” Cody said, returning his attention to his soup mug. He lifted it, took a sip. “But I didn’t know if you guys got away. Maybe it was your dream, if you saw that and I didn’t.”
“So why didn’t I dream it?” Sondra asked, scowling at Cody too. “Maybe I’m the fifth wheel here.”
“I don’t think it was our dream,” Cody said, concentrating on the mug. “If it was just the two of us, I’d say yeah — but a bunch of people had dreams. Not everybody… or maybe they did and don’t remember. I heard a couple people say they dreamed something, but can’t recall it.”
“So whose dream was it?” Kelly asked. Both of them dropped the scowls.
Cody looked at each of them, holding his soup mug in front of his face as if hiding. He finally took a sip and put it down. “It came from the trucks, obviously,” he said, his post-Truckalypse confidence returning. “Or whatever sent the damn things.”
“What do they care? Or it?” Sondra asked.
“Hell, I don’t know. And if I ever met the SOB, I’d be too busy trying to kill it to ask.” Cody tore into the corner of his sandwich and talked around it. “Maybe we’re unfinished business. The fish that got away, 'cause we were swimming against the current.”
Kelly gave him a curious look. “Huh. I thought you liked it this way, and you’d kill the truck maker?”
Cody stammered, “I— they— hell yeah, I’d kill it. I’m glad the preps and jocks are gone, but not everyone who drove off was them. My sister… the kids remind me of her, she was about their age. She would’ve liked them. I want her back, but I don’t think anyone who got in a truck is ever coming back — I don’t know that for sure, it’s just a gut feeling. But I’d jump in one of those fucking things myself if I thought it would bring her back.” He wiped his eyes and paused a moment. “Thing is, I don’t think we can rescue anyone. All we can do is get rid of the trucks. And maybe get some payback on whatever sent ’em.”
“How do you figure we can do that?” Cleve asked. The three teens jumped; they had gathered an audience unawares.
“What, just because I wear black and have long hair, I’m automatically the authority on All Things Evil?” Cody mock-sniped at Cleve, and grinned. “You still profiling?”
Cleve laughed, as did several others. “Busted the cop! But seriously, do you have any idea how we can fight those things?”
“Not yet. Maybe if we knew more about them — about what happens to people who drive off — we’ll be able to figure out what to do next.”
“Yeah. So what’s the next step?”
Cody took a deep breath. “You know what? I think I have an idea.”
continued…
Showing posts with label novel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label novel. Show all posts
Monday, June 28, 2010 3 comments
Monday, June 21, 2010 2 comments
White Pickups, Episode 40
Contents
From the diary of Ben Cho, fall 2011, condensed:
We planted spinach and turnips, and a few stored onions that started sprouting. We gathered trailer-loads of walnuts, and a few buckets of hickory and pecans. One of our field guides told us how to get the bitterness out of oak acorns — put them in a cloth bag and leave them in running water for a few days — but we don’t trust nearby creeks to be running clean just yet, so we’ll let that food source pass this year. It’s clear we won’t starve though, even if the gardens fail; we just have to let things grow and know what to look for. Johnny Latimer says he’s going to start hunting, it would be nice to have some fresh meat. Feral dogs are becoming a problem, but the fence keeps the most dangerous ones out and everyone is armed when they go outside.
Water is a tougher nut. We can count on numerous rain barrels scavenged from garden centers, at least through the winter, but rainfall in a Georgia summer is anything but reliable. So many things we need water for: drinking, cooking, sterilizing (by boiling), washing, irrigation, and some of us still find ourselves trying the faucets from time to time. We decided that the creeks might be all right for irrigation and washing by spring, and we’ll start drinking from them (with filtering) this summer if we have to. We covered the swimming pool for the winter, but we’ll probably use it as a swimming pool at least one more year.
A lot of us have been having weird dreams lately. Everyone’s an amateur psychologist…
Sunday, October 16, 2011
“Cody!”
Cody hit the bedroom wall, bounced back flailing. “Uh!” Moonlight made his red robe a dark spot among shadows.
“Cody, are you all right?”
He paused a moment. “Uh. Um… yeah.”
“You must have been having a dream,” Sondra said, sitting up and wrapping her robe around herself. “You remember it?”
“Yeah.” He sat down, reached under the blanket, found her hand. “It was… weird. We got married and we were driving to Florida for our honeymoon. The weird part was, Kelly was in the back seat, I don’t know why. She said, ‘Look, we’re taking off,’ and we raised up off the ground… but the car started turning into… you know. You were yelling at me to stop, stop, and I was standing on the brakes. Then I said, ‘We’ll have to jump,’ and I opened the door and jumped out. I hit the pavement — I even felt it — and was hoping you got out too. Did I just run into the wall?”
“Yeah, you did. You okay?”
“I guess so.” He felt himself over, then shivered and climbed back under the covers. They wrapped themselves around each other. “It’s cold out of bed. I guess when winter really gets here, we’ll have to move into the living room, in front of the fireplace.”
“Sounds romantic. So… getting married wasn’t the bad part?”
“Not really. As long as it was you, anyway. Problem is, I think all the preachers drove off.”
“We’ll work something out when the time comes,” Sondra whispered, kissing him. “As for keeping warm…”
They went back to sleep, but not right away.
Jennifer Lane woke with a start, and gasped at the silhouette against the moonlit window.
“Miss Jennifer? I had a bad dream.”
“Oh. Caitlin. It’s all right, you’re awake now. Do you remember it?”
“Yeah.” The little girl shuddered, even wrapped in her blanket from the futon in the living room. “I was playing outside, and a truck stopped. My mom was in it — I couldn’t see her, but I knew it was her. She said to get in.”
Jennifer thought a moment. “Did you?”
“I didn’t want to. I said you were taking care of me now, and I was scared of the trucks, but she said I had to come. I started walking toward it, and someone — I think it was Ben — threw a soccer ball at me. I threw it back at him, then I woke up.”
“You want to know what I think?” Jennifer asked, and Caitlin nodded. “I think you had that dream because we went and got your stuff from your old house on Wednesday, and we had to stay there overnight because it was too far to ride back home before dark. That made you think about your mom, but you didn’t know you were thinking about her, so you had the dream.”
“But I did think about her!” Caitlin wailed. Her breath caught for a moment. “I did. I — I didn’t wanna make you feel bad, because I know you’re taking care of me now, but I wished she was home and I could just stay there with her.” Jennifer could see her tears in the moonlight.
“It’s okay, Caitlin,” Jennifer said. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t feel that way. It’s normal.” She took Caitlin’s hand, and the girl slumped onto the bed, crying. Jennifer let her cry, and Caitlin cried herself to sleep on the bed, still wrapped up in the blanket.
Jennifer looked at the sleeping girl for a moment. Caitlin couldn’t help being a little clingy; her parents had split last winter. First her dad had left, then her mom drove off. Her crush on Cody was likely just his “luck” at being the first older boy she’d met. The girl was already losing her fat — with no TV to speak of and lots of work to get ready for the winter, even the kids were getting in shape — but was still too heavy to pick up. After a moment of thought, Jennifer got another blanket from the closet and went to the futon. Good enough for her, good enough for me, she thought. She slept — and had her own dreams.
to be continued…
From the diary of Ben Cho, fall 2011, condensed:
We planted spinach and turnips, and a few stored onions that started sprouting. We gathered trailer-loads of walnuts, and a few buckets of hickory and pecans. One of our field guides told us how to get the bitterness out of oak acorns — put them in a cloth bag and leave them in running water for a few days — but we don’t trust nearby creeks to be running clean just yet, so we’ll let that food source pass this year. It’s clear we won’t starve though, even if the gardens fail; we just have to let things grow and know what to look for. Johnny Latimer says he’s going to start hunting, it would be nice to have some fresh meat. Feral dogs are becoming a problem, but the fence keeps the most dangerous ones out and everyone is armed when they go outside.
Water is a tougher nut. We can count on numerous rain barrels scavenged from garden centers, at least through the winter, but rainfall in a Georgia summer is anything but reliable. So many things we need water for: drinking, cooking, sterilizing (by boiling), washing, irrigation, and some of us still find ourselves trying the faucets from time to time. We decided that the creeks might be all right for irrigation and washing by spring, and we’ll start drinking from them (with filtering) this summer if we have to. We covered the swimming pool for the winter, but we’ll probably use it as a swimming pool at least one more year.
A lot of us have been having weird dreams lately. Everyone’s an amateur psychologist…
Part III
Dream Warfare
Dream Warfare
Sunday, October 16, 2011
“Cody!”
Cody hit the bedroom wall, bounced back flailing. “Uh!” Moonlight made his red robe a dark spot among shadows.
“Cody, are you all right?”
He paused a moment. “Uh. Um… yeah.”
“You must have been having a dream,” Sondra said, sitting up and wrapping her robe around herself. “You remember it?”
“Yeah.” He sat down, reached under the blanket, found her hand. “It was… weird. We got married and we were driving to Florida for our honeymoon. The weird part was, Kelly was in the back seat, I don’t know why. She said, ‘Look, we’re taking off,’ and we raised up off the ground… but the car started turning into… you know. You were yelling at me to stop, stop, and I was standing on the brakes. Then I said, ‘We’ll have to jump,’ and I opened the door and jumped out. I hit the pavement — I even felt it — and was hoping you got out too. Did I just run into the wall?”
“Yeah, you did. You okay?”
“I guess so.” He felt himself over, then shivered and climbed back under the covers. They wrapped themselves around each other. “It’s cold out of bed. I guess when winter really gets here, we’ll have to move into the living room, in front of the fireplace.”
“Sounds romantic. So… getting married wasn’t the bad part?”
“Not really. As long as it was you, anyway. Problem is, I think all the preachers drove off.”
“We’ll work something out when the time comes,” Sondra whispered, kissing him. “As for keeping warm…”
They went back to sleep, but not right away.
Jennifer Lane woke with a start, and gasped at the silhouette against the moonlit window.
“Miss Jennifer? I had a bad dream.”
“Oh. Caitlin. It’s all right, you’re awake now. Do you remember it?”
“Yeah.” The little girl shuddered, even wrapped in her blanket from the futon in the living room. “I was playing outside, and a truck stopped. My mom was in it — I couldn’t see her, but I knew it was her. She said to get in.”
Jennifer thought a moment. “Did you?”
“I didn’t want to. I said you were taking care of me now, and I was scared of the trucks, but she said I had to come. I started walking toward it, and someone — I think it was Ben — threw a soccer ball at me. I threw it back at him, then I woke up.”
“You want to know what I think?” Jennifer asked, and Caitlin nodded. “I think you had that dream because we went and got your stuff from your old house on Wednesday, and we had to stay there overnight because it was too far to ride back home before dark. That made you think about your mom, but you didn’t know you were thinking about her, so you had the dream.”
“But I did think about her!” Caitlin wailed. Her breath caught for a moment. “I did. I — I didn’t wanna make you feel bad, because I know you’re taking care of me now, but I wished she was home and I could just stay there with her.” Jennifer could see her tears in the moonlight.
“It’s okay, Caitlin,” Jennifer said. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t feel that way. It’s normal.” She took Caitlin’s hand, and the girl slumped onto the bed, crying. Jennifer let her cry, and Caitlin cried herself to sleep on the bed, still wrapped up in the blanket.
Jennifer looked at the sleeping girl for a moment. Caitlin couldn’t help being a little clingy; her parents had split last winter. First her dad had left, then her mom drove off. Her crush on Cody was likely just his “luck” at being the first older boy she’d met. The girl was already losing her fat — with no TV to speak of and lots of work to get ready for the winter, even the kids were getting in shape — but was still too heavy to pick up. After a moment of thought, Jennifer got another blanket from the closet and went to the futon. Good enough for her, good enough for me, she thought. She slept — and had her own dreams.
to be continued…
Monday, June 14, 2010 7 comments
White Pickups, Episode 39
Contents
The laden trailers slowed them down, which suited Cleve just fine. They stuck to the side of the road, using bike lanes or sidewalks where available. The drivers of the pickups seemed happy to share the road, but nobody wanted to listen to the constant invitations. The late-morning sun was warm, and the four of them worked up a sweat in a hurry. Everyone kept an eye out for other riders, but Tim guessed that between the head start and their load, whoever had passed by Sunlover’s was long gone.
Sara waved them to a stop shortly before Pleasant Hill. “Listen! Is that a dog barking?”
“Sounds like two, maybe more,” Johnny said, hefting his carbine. “Safeties off?”
“Not yet,” Cleve said, peering down the highway, “but let’s move slow enough where we can stop quick. Don’t worry about kickstands, just let the bikes fall over if we have to. Sara, you sure you don’t want a gun?”
“I’d just shoot myself or one of you.” She unhooked the air pump from its mount. “If I have to, I’ll whack ’em on the nose. That might slow ’em down enough for one of you to rescue me.”
They moved slowly, crossing Pleasant Hill behind a few trucks (who treated all major intersections as a four-way stop). The barking grew louder, then they saw movement up ahead. “Safeties off now,” Cleve said, stopping long enough for all of them to comply, and they hurried forward.
Up ahead, a woman faced two large dogs in a church parking lot, backed up against a truck. She had positioned her bike so the two dogs facing her could only come at her from one direction, and she had her air pump in hand. A third dog lay in the road; the occasional thump-thump of a pickup rolling over it suggested the dogs had crossed the highway to attack.
“Back off!” Cleve shouted at the dogs, who turned to face the newcomers; the woman looked up as well. They barked and darted forward, but did not close. Tim waved at the woman to get out of the way; she picked up her bike and slipped around the white pickup, as quiet as possible. One of the dogs turned back to her, but too late — Johnny fired four times as soon as he had a clear shot. Both dogs dropped to the pavement, twitching for a few moments, then lay still. The woman slumped to the pavement behind the truck, and Sara ran to her.
“Are you all right?”
The woman looked up at Sara. She was dark, nearly as dark as Sara herself; she had her long straight black hair pulled back into a tail and tucked into the collar of her shirt. A cap lay on the pavement nearby. “I think so. They didn’t bite me.” Tears ran down the rider’s eyes. “What will you do with me?” There was a lilt to her voice, an accent Sara couldn’t quite place.
“You can come with us, if you like,” Sara said. “We live a ways north of here.”
“This is why we don’t travel alone, and we don’t travel unarmed,” Cleve said, a little winded from running to catch Sara. “I guess you’ve been lucky so far.” Tim and Johnny joined them.
“Lucky? I suppose.”
Sara shook her head at Cleve. “I’m Sara Karsten. This is Johnny Latimer, Tim Petro, and Cleve Isaacs. We live… a little north of here.”
“I’m Rita Diaz. And thank you all for coming when you did.”
Tim asked, “Were you who I saw about an hour ago, riding up the highway?”
Rita nodded. “I was alone. I thought if I couldn’t find other people, I might find a farmhouse somewhere in the country where I could grow my own food. My parents used to tell me about the way they lived in Mexico; I thought if they could do it, perhaps I could too. I stopped at a gas station a ways back to rest and get a few water bottles. If you hadn’t come along… when I saw the dogs, I thought I could get into this church and claim sanctuary, but they came too fast. So perhaps God sent some angels instead?”
Johnny laughed. “We’re no angels, but we’re not bad folks either. We live in a fenced-in subdivision, and some of us are already turning it into a big ol’ lawns-to-gardens project. The trucks are all outside the fence, so I guess that makes it a little slice of Heaven. Shoot… maybe we are angels, then.” He laughed, and Rita joined him.
“May I ask… what are you carrying?”
“Solar panels, control boxes, spools of wire, batteries, all that junk,” Cleve said. “Some of us gotta have our creature comforts, you know.”
“Very resourceful. I should have thought of that myself,” Rita said. “Maybe I didn’t think things through as much as I should have. Being out in the country would make it hard to scavenge while waiting for the harvest.”
“You think we’re resourceful?” Tim laughed. “You haven’t met Cody yet!”
“I’d be glad to learn from him, and the rest of you. If you’ll have me.”
“Sure,” Cleve said. “There ain’t enough of us to worry about crowding, any time soon.”
“Thank you so much,” Rita said. “For saving me, and for taking me in. How far do we have to go?”
“Ten miles, maybe?”
“I’ll try not to slow you down. I’m not used to bicycling everywhere yet. Could we stop by a medical clinic on the way?”
“Why?” Cleve asked. “Are you hurt?” Tim caught Cleve’s suspicious look that said: or are you a druggie?
“No… I want to pick up some supplies. I’m a nurse-practitioner, so I thought it might be useful to have some things around in case they’re needed.”
Nobody said anything for several moments. “Well, you’re an answered prayer, then,” Tim said. “You sure you’re not the angel?”
to be continued…
The laden trailers slowed them down, which suited Cleve just fine. They stuck to the side of the road, using bike lanes or sidewalks where available. The drivers of the pickups seemed happy to share the road, but nobody wanted to listen to the constant invitations. The late-morning sun was warm, and the four of them worked up a sweat in a hurry. Everyone kept an eye out for other riders, but Tim guessed that between the head start and their load, whoever had passed by Sunlover’s was long gone.
Sara waved them to a stop shortly before Pleasant Hill. “Listen! Is that a dog barking?”
“Sounds like two, maybe more,” Johnny said, hefting his carbine. “Safeties off?”
“Not yet,” Cleve said, peering down the highway, “but let’s move slow enough where we can stop quick. Don’t worry about kickstands, just let the bikes fall over if we have to. Sara, you sure you don’t want a gun?”
“I’d just shoot myself or one of you.” She unhooked the air pump from its mount. “If I have to, I’ll whack ’em on the nose. That might slow ’em down enough for one of you to rescue me.”
They moved slowly, crossing Pleasant Hill behind a few trucks (who treated all major intersections as a four-way stop). The barking grew louder, then they saw movement up ahead. “Safeties off now,” Cleve said, stopping long enough for all of them to comply, and they hurried forward.
Up ahead, a woman faced two large dogs in a church parking lot, backed up against a truck. She had positioned her bike so the two dogs facing her could only come at her from one direction, and she had her air pump in hand. A third dog lay in the road; the occasional thump-thump of a pickup rolling over it suggested the dogs had crossed the highway to attack.
“Back off!” Cleve shouted at the dogs, who turned to face the newcomers; the woman looked up as well. They barked and darted forward, but did not close. Tim waved at the woman to get out of the way; she picked up her bike and slipped around the white pickup, as quiet as possible. One of the dogs turned back to her, but too late — Johnny fired four times as soon as he had a clear shot. Both dogs dropped to the pavement, twitching for a few moments, then lay still. The woman slumped to the pavement behind the truck, and Sara ran to her.
“Are you all right?”
The woman looked up at Sara. She was dark, nearly as dark as Sara herself; she had her long straight black hair pulled back into a tail and tucked into the collar of her shirt. A cap lay on the pavement nearby. “I think so. They didn’t bite me.” Tears ran down the rider’s eyes. “What will you do with me?” There was a lilt to her voice, an accent Sara couldn’t quite place.
“You can come with us, if you like,” Sara said. “We live a ways north of here.”
“This is why we don’t travel alone, and we don’t travel unarmed,” Cleve said, a little winded from running to catch Sara. “I guess you’ve been lucky so far.” Tim and Johnny joined them.
“Lucky? I suppose.”
Sara shook her head at Cleve. “I’m Sara Karsten. This is Johnny Latimer, Tim Petro, and Cleve Isaacs. We live… a little north of here.”
“I’m Rita Diaz. And thank you all for coming when you did.”
Tim asked, “Were you who I saw about an hour ago, riding up the highway?”
Rita nodded. “I was alone. I thought if I couldn’t find other people, I might find a farmhouse somewhere in the country where I could grow my own food. My parents used to tell me about the way they lived in Mexico; I thought if they could do it, perhaps I could too. I stopped at a gas station a ways back to rest and get a few water bottles. If you hadn’t come along… when I saw the dogs, I thought I could get into this church and claim sanctuary, but they came too fast. So perhaps God sent some angels instead?”
Johnny laughed. “We’re no angels, but we’re not bad folks either. We live in a fenced-in subdivision, and some of us are already turning it into a big ol’ lawns-to-gardens project. The trucks are all outside the fence, so I guess that makes it a little slice of Heaven. Shoot… maybe we are angels, then.” He laughed, and Rita joined him.
“May I ask… what are you carrying?”
“Solar panels, control boxes, spools of wire, batteries, all that junk,” Cleve said. “Some of us gotta have our creature comforts, you know.”
“Very resourceful. I should have thought of that myself,” Rita said. “Maybe I didn’t think things through as much as I should have. Being out in the country would make it hard to scavenge while waiting for the harvest.”
“You think we’re resourceful?” Tim laughed. “You haven’t met Cody yet!”
“I’d be glad to learn from him, and the rest of you. If you’ll have me.”
“Sure,” Cleve said. “There ain’t enough of us to worry about crowding, any time soon.”
“Thank you so much,” Rita said. “For saving me, and for taking me in. How far do we have to go?”
“Ten miles, maybe?”
“I’ll try not to slow you down. I’m not used to bicycling everywhere yet. Could we stop by a medical clinic on the way?”
“Why?” Cleve asked. “Are you hurt?” Tim caught Cleve’s suspicious look that said: or are you a druggie?
“No… I want to pick up some supplies. I’m a nurse-practitioner, so I thought it might be useful to have some things around in case they’re needed.”
Nobody said anything for several moments. “Well, you’re an answered prayer, then,” Tim said. “You sure you’re not the angel?”
to be continued…
Monday, June 07, 2010 3 comments
White Pickups, Episode 38
Contents
Thursday, September 29, 2011
One by one, Cleve, Johnny, Sara, and Tim rolled up in front of Sunlover’s Solar. Cleve and Tim took up positions on either side of the strip building, covering Sara and Johnny as they pulled up. Sara was unarmed, at her insistence, but Johnny had his carbine slung over his shoulder. Morning was bright and warm, a perfect early fall day. As usual, a single white pickup whispered to them in the parking lot; others rolled north and south on Buford Highway. An overhang shaded the storefronts, but the sun reflected off the windows and doors of the trucks.
Sunlover’s had a small window; Sara peeked in and saw a few displays but no movement. She gave the door a try. “It’s locked.”
“Figures,” grumbled Johnny, watching the street. “The most important place we’ve looted so far, and the first one we’ll have to break into.” He stepped out to catch Cleve’s eye. “It’s locked, Cleve! Now what?”
“Johnny, come down here. Cover me while I check out the back door. Sara, go over to Tim’s corner and help him watch.” They split up.
Tim stood watching the driveway to the back; it was wide enough for a transfer truck. The next strip building squatted on the other side, uphill beyond a few shrubs in a four-foot landscaping island. Sara jogged to the corner.
“Watch my back,” Tim said.
“Above or below the belt?” she laughed.
He gave her a wary smile. “Good thing I didn’t tell you to watch behind me.”
“But that’s what you want, right?”
“Yeah.” She shifted to his side to watch the back lot.
After a quiet minute, Tim spoke: “You been doing okay?”
“Sure. I walked to my job at the Saver-Mart most days. Riding a bike’s a little different, but you get used to it.”
“Yeah. But I really meant, with all… all this.” He waved his hand at the street.
“Well, those trucks ain’t been what I wanted to look at the rest of my life, but I’ll get by. I’m keeping Ashley now, so I’m doing something useful. What about you?”
Tim sighed. “Has it really only been a week since I found Rebecca? It seems like a lot longer than that.”
“A crisis does funny things to time. That’s what my kin in New Orleans would say. They should know, they were there for Katrina.”
“Ow. I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” She put a hand on his arm.
“Thanks. You know? Maybe… it’s better this way. Sure, I’d rather she lived long enough for us to find her, but it would have been awkward, being around her all the time.”
“That bad?”
“Oh yeah. We’d have been checking out each others’ new interests, and probably approving them. Or not.”
“Wow. ‘Up in each other’s bidness’ is what my family called that. That wouldn’t have gone well.”
“Tell me about it.”
Johnny poked his head around the corner in the back. “Hey! The back door was unlocked, we’re about to go in. Meet us up front, but Cleve said not to stand where anyone inside can see you from the window.”
“Okay!” Sara answered. “C’mon, Tim… Tim? What is it?”
“I… I could have sworn I just saw someone ride by on a bicycle.”
“Which way?”
“Going north. On the other side of the road.” Tim pointed then walked down the storefronts, watching the street and in front of him.
“Did they see us?”
“I don’t think so. They didn’t look this way.”
“We’ll have to be careful going back, then,” Cleve said. They stood inside Sunlover’s, watching the traffic through the window while Sara looked at the displays.
“Eco-Mergency 2000,” Sara read aloud. “Portable power at home or away from home.”
“I don’t think they saw us down here,” Tim said. “He — I think it was a he — didn’t even look our way. He would have had to look over his shoulder to see me, anyway.”
“GridFree — When you’re ready to cut the cord, or when the cord isn’t long enough. Ha. Cute. Optional RV mount available.”
“So do we do anything different going back?” asked Johnny.
“I don’t guess so,” said Cleve. “We just have to be watching for places where someone could jump us.”
“Ask about our fall special: free delivery and 50% off installation. Hm. Sounds tempting. I bet they didn’t expect all their installers to drive off, though.”
“Looks like we’ll have to deliver them ourselves,” Tim said. “Nice displays. I guess the merchandise is out back?”
“Yeah. And I still can’t get outta the habit of flippin’ the switch,” Cleve grinned. “They must have one of their systems up on the roof, ’cause the lights actually came on. ’Bout gave me a heart attack!”
“You put down the doughnut, maybe you won’t get a heart attack,” Sara laughed.
“Babe, why you gotta go there?” Cleve grinned. “Nah. I think I’ve lost five pounds already, and it’s only been two weeks. The end of the world is gonna gimme back those fifteen years I was gonna lose!”
“Hey Cleve,” Tim said, still watching the window. “I just thought about this. Were any of you guys downtown smokers?”
“Damn… you know what? I don’t think any of us smoked. I used to, had to put ’em down at the end of ’08. I swore if we got a black president, I’d quit… and damn if it didn’t happen. Then the world had to go and end!”
“Stands to reason,” Johnny said, after the laughter died down. “The trucks would’ve ‘picked up’ on that right away. ‘Drive off, we got smokes.’”
“Picked up? Tell me you didn’t just say that!” Cleve fanned the air in front of his nose. “Y’know, we’ll never get this stuff loaded if we sit here shootin’ the breeze. We can do that at home. Johnny, you watch out front. We’ll bring the bikes around back and load up.”
“Beats liftin’ stuff,” Johnny laughed, patting the carbine. “You want me to shoot first and ask questions later?”
continued…
Thursday, September 29, 2011
One by one, Cleve, Johnny, Sara, and Tim rolled up in front of Sunlover’s Solar. Cleve and Tim took up positions on either side of the strip building, covering Sara and Johnny as they pulled up. Sara was unarmed, at her insistence, but Johnny had his carbine slung over his shoulder. Morning was bright and warm, a perfect early fall day. As usual, a single white pickup whispered to them in the parking lot; others rolled north and south on Buford Highway. An overhang shaded the storefronts, but the sun reflected off the windows and doors of the trucks.
Sunlover’s had a small window; Sara peeked in and saw a few displays but no movement. She gave the door a try. “It’s locked.”
“Figures,” grumbled Johnny, watching the street. “The most important place we’ve looted so far, and the first one we’ll have to break into.” He stepped out to catch Cleve’s eye. “It’s locked, Cleve! Now what?”
“Johnny, come down here. Cover me while I check out the back door. Sara, go over to Tim’s corner and help him watch.” They split up.
Tim stood watching the driveway to the back; it was wide enough for a transfer truck. The next strip building squatted on the other side, uphill beyond a few shrubs in a four-foot landscaping island. Sara jogged to the corner.
“Watch my back,” Tim said.
“Above or below the belt?” she laughed.
He gave her a wary smile. “Good thing I didn’t tell you to watch behind me.”
“But that’s what you want, right?”
“Yeah.” She shifted to his side to watch the back lot.
After a quiet minute, Tim spoke: “You been doing okay?”
“Sure. I walked to my job at the Saver-Mart most days. Riding a bike’s a little different, but you get used to it.”
“Yeah. But I really meant, with all… all this.” He waved his hand at the street.
“Well, those trucks ain’t been what I wanted to look at the rest of my life, but I’ll get by. I’m keeping Ashley now, so I’m doing something useful. What about you?”
Tim sighed. “Has it really only been a week since I found Rebecca? It seems like a lot longer than that.”
“A crisis does funny things to time. That’s what my kin in New Orleans would say. They should know, they were there for Katrina.”
“Ow. I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” She put a hand on his arm.
“Thanks. You know? Maybe… it’s better this way. Sure, I’d rather she lived long enough for us to find her, but it would have been awkward, being around her all the time.”
“That bad?”
“Oh yeah. We’d have been checking out each others’ new interests, and probably approving them. Or not.”
“Wow. ‘Up in each other’s bidness’ is what my family called that. That wouldn’t have gone well.”
“Tell me about it.”
Johnny poked his head around the corner in the back. “Hey! The back door was unlocked, we’re about to go in. Meet us up front, but Cleve said not to stand where anyone inside can see you from the window.”
“Okay!” Sara answered. “C’mon, Tim… Tim? What is it?”
“I… I could have sworn I just saw someone ride by on a bicycle.”
“Which way?”
“Going north. On the other side of the road.” Tim pointed then walked down the storefronts, watching the street and in front of him.
“Did they see us?”
“I don’t think so. They didn’t look this way.”
“We’ll have to be careful going back, then,” Cleve said. They stood inside Sunlover’s, watching the traffic through the window while Sara looked at the displays.
“Eco-Mergency 2000,” Sara read aloud. “Portable power at home or away from home.”
“I don’t think they saw us down here,” Tim said. “He — I think it was a he — didn’t even look our way. He would have had to look over his shoulder to see me, anyway.”
“GridFree — When you’re ready to cut the cord, or when the cord isn’t long enough. Ha. Cute. Optional RV mount available.”
“So do we do anything different going back?” asked Johnny.
“I don’t guess so,” said Cleve. “We just have to be watching for places where someone could jump us.”
“Ask about our fall special: free delivery and 50% off installation. Hm. Sounds tempting. I bet they didn’t expect all their installers to drive off, though.”
“Looks like we’ll have to deliver them ourselves,” Tim said. “Nice displays. I guess the merchandise is out back?”
“Yeah. And I still can’t get outta the habit of flippin’ the switch,” Cleve grinned. “They must have one of their systems up on the roof, ’cause the lights actually came on. ’Bout gave me a heart attack!”
“You put down the doughnut, maybe you won’t get a heart attack,” Sara laughed.
“Babe, why you gotta go there?” Cleve grinned. “Nah. I think I’ve lost five pounds already, and it’s only been two weeks. The end of the world is gonna gimme back those fifteen years I was gonna lose!”
“Hey Cleve,” Tim said, still watching the window. “I just thought about this. Were any of you guys downtown smokers?”
“Damn… you know what? I don’t think any of us smoked. I used to, had to put ’em down at the end of ’08. I swore if we got a black president, I’d quit… and damn if it didn’t happen. Then the world had to go and end!”
“Stands to reason,” Johnny said, after the laughter died down. “The trucks would’ve ‘picked up’ on that right away. ‘Drive off, we got smokes.’”
“Picked up? Tell me you didn’t just say that!” Cleve fanned the air in front of his nose. “Y’know, we’ll never get this stuff loaded if we sit here shootin’ the breeze. We can do that at home. Johnny, you watch out front. We’ll bring the bikes around back and load up.”
“Beats liftin’ stuff,” Johnny laughed, patting the carbine. “You want me to shoot first and ask questions later?”
continued…
Monday, May 31, 2010 4 comments
White Pickups, Episode 37
Contents
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
How did I get so lucky? Cody asked himself. She has to be the hottest girl in the world. He lay half-awake in a blurry tingly haze, Sondra wrapped in the pink robe and softly snoring, an arm and leg draped over him. How long had they screwed? — an hour? more? — it didn’t matter. Necking had led to groping, then as soon as he put a condom on she’d straddled him and rode him to exhaustion. She came at least twice, maybe three times, or maybe it was just one long orgasm… Cody didn’t know that much about sex, only the stupid stuff from Internet porn and bragging of seniors, but if Sondra was happy it was another thing that didn’t matter. He’d thought he was going to explode when it was his turn to come; he remembered crying out and Sondra’s sweaty grin, her robe flopping open around them both, his arms around her hips, lifting off the bed, her nipples still hard as she gasped again at the end…
He started to respond to the memory, but achieved only half-mast. In the morning then, he thought, if she doesn’t wake me up for more first. He grinned, realized he wouldn’t be sleeping for a little while, and eased out of bed.
“Mmmrrf?”
“Gotta pee,” he whispered, and realized it was true. Sondra made no more sound; she was a heavy sleeper most nights. He threw on a t-shirt, pants, and a fleece they’d picked up on the way out of Sears, and slipped outside to the porta-john they’d rolled from a construction site on the other end of Laurel. It was dark — no moon tonight. The stars, more than Cody was used to seeing, told him there were no clouds. He played his little flashlight over the path and made his way to the blue booth on the other side of the street.
“Shady?” Kelly’s whisper rasped down the cave-like hallway, just ahead of the splash of flashlight. “Who’s that?”
“Just Cody. Yeah, he’s here with me again.” Cody stood, holding the kitten and turning to face Kelly.
“I guess he’s going to make a habit of this,” Kelly said, taking possession of Shady and yawning. “That’s three nights in a row. I went to use the bathroom, and when I came back, he got out.”
“Yeah. How’s he getting along with Ben’s cat?”
“Oh, they either sniff each other or chase each other all around the place,” Kelly laughed. “Then they sleep together in the laundry pile.”
“Hey guys,” Tim said, walking down from the other side. “Late-night meetup?”
Cody was glad the darkness hid his embarrassment; Kelly glanced down the walk over her shoulder. “No,” she said, “Shady got out again and Cody found him. Thanks, Cody.” She hustled away.
Tim’s cocked eyebrow in the flashlight beam asked Cody the same question. “Uh-uh,” he said, shaking his head. “I just had to pee, and the cat was up here waiting for me to come back.”
“So she didn’t throw you out?” Tim glanced at Cody’s door then gestured for Cody to follow him back to the bottom.
“Uh-uh. We’re getting along… okay, I guess.” They sat on the bottom steps.
“That’s good. You want a beer? I couldn’t sleep either, so I thought I’d sit out here and watch the stars. The trees block the view from the balcony.”
“What’s — what’s up with you?”
“Oh… I guess I’m just keyed up about the run to that solar panel place tomorrow,” Tim said, handing Cody a can. “Sara’s coming, but she’s never handled guns.” He opened his own can. “They’re not cold, but at least they’re not warm either.”
“Yeah. I kinda wish I was going with you guys, but Jason’s got me helping with that composting toilet thing. We’re making a run to Home Despot so we can build a couple johns, and stuff for the brick ovens and more rain barrels. Sondra and Max are coming along in case there’s trouble. I guess you and Cleve are the cops for your own run, huh?”
“Yeah, and Johnny’s bringing a carbine. He found it in his unit, that and a couple boxes of ammo, so Sara’s the only one of us that won’t be armed. Cleve ain’t happy about that, but Sara insisted on coming to help.”
“Yeah. Maybe neither of us will run into anything.”
Kelly slipped back to the top of the steps and listened to them talk until Shady started squirming, then hurried back to #202. She kept a firm grip on her kitten until the door latched, then let him jump to the floor and run to the laundry area. Ben, sleeping on the futon in the living room, stirred then was still. An ember crackled in the fireplace, and the honest smell of a wood fire had conquered the last of the stinky fridge. Except for her flashlight, which illuminated very little beyond a few feet, the unit was pitch-dark. She walked to the hallway then turned off the light and trailed her left hand along the wall, navigating by feel, until she reached her bedroom. Kicking off her shoes, she burrowed under the pile of blankets and quilts on her bed and waited for things to warm up again before shedding her clothes.
Okay, I guess, Cody had said. Tim had probably forgotten how to speak Teenager — Susie Lin, a classmate, once told her that Mandarin was another language where a word could have multiple meanings depending on inflection — so he wouldn’t know that Cody said I’m in heaven, dude. Things had gotten so complicated… she hadn’t thought she was interested in him until Sondra came along… and not only were the two of them free agents, Kelly had both her parents to watch over her! How was she supposed to compete with that?
Tim and Cody weren’t going to be the only ones having a hard time sleeping tonight.
continued…
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
How did I get so lucky? Cody asked himself. She has to be the hottest girl in the world. He lay half-awake in a blurry tingly haze, Sondra wrapped in the pink robe and softly snoring, an arm and leg draped over him. How long had they screwed? — an hour? more? — it didn’t matter. Necking had led to groping, then as soon as he put a condom on she’d straddled him and rode him to exhaustion. She came at least twice, maybe three times, or maybe it was just one long orgasm… Cody didn’t know that much about sex, only the stupid stuff from Internet porn and bragging of seniors, but if Sondra was happy it was another thing that didn’t matter. He’d thought he was going to explode when it was his turn to come; he remembered crying out and Sondra’s sweaty grin, her robe flopping open around them both, his arms around her hips, lifting off the bed, her nipples still hard as she gasped again at the end…
He started to respond to the memory, but achieved only half-mast. In the morning then, he thought, if she doesn’t wake me up for more first. He grinned, realized he wouldn’t be sleeping for a little while, and eased out of bed.
“Mmmrrf?”
“Gotta pee,” he whispered, and realized it was true. Sondra made no more sound; she was a heavy sleeper most nights. He threw on a t-shirt, pants, and a fleece they’d picked up on the way out of Sears, and slipped outside to the porta-john they’d rolled from a construction site on the other end of Laurel. It was dark — no moon tonight. The stars, more than Cody was used to seeing, told him there were no clouds. He played his little flashlight over the path and made his way to the blue booth on the other side of the street.
“Shady?” Kelly’s whisper rasped down the cave-like hallway, just ahead of the splash of flashlight. “Who’s that?”
“Just Cody. Yeah, he’s here with me again.” Cody stood, holding the kitten and turning to face Kelly.
“I guess he’s going to make a habit of this,” Kelly said, taking possession of Shady and yawning. “That’s three nights in a row. I went to use the bathroom, and when I came back, he got out.”
“Yeah. How’s he getting along with Ben’s cat?”
“Oh, they either sniff each other or chase each other all around the place,” Kelly laughed. “Then they sleep together in the laundry pile.”
“Hey guys,” Tim said, walking down from the other side. “Late-night meetup?”
Cody was glad the darkness hid his embarrassment; Kelly glanced down the walk over her shoulder. “No,” she said, “Shady got out again and Cody found him. Thanks, Cody.” She hustled away.
Tim’s cocked eyebrow in the flashlight beam asked Cody the same question. “Uh-uh,” he said, shaking his head. “I just had to pee, and the cat was up here waiting for me to come back.”
“So she didn’t throw you out?” Tim glanced at Cody’s door then gestured for Cody to follow him back to the bottom.
“Uh-uh. We’re getting along… okay, I guess.” They sat on the bottom steps.
“That’s good. You want a beer? I couldn’t sleep either, so I thought I’d sit out here and watch the stars. The trees block the view from the balcony.”
“What’s — what’s up with you?”
“Oh… I guess I’m just keyed up about the run to that solar panel place tomorrow,” Tim said, handing Cody a can. “Sara’s coming, but she’s never handled guns.” He opened his own can. “They’re not cold, but at least they’re not warm either.”
“Yeah. I kinda wish I was going with you guys, but Jason’s got me helping with that composting toilet thing. We’re making a run to Home Despot so we can build a couple johns, and stuff for the brick ovens and more rain barrels. Sondra and Max are coming along in case there’s trouble. I guess you and Cleve are the cops for your own run, huh?”
“Yeah, and Johnny’s bringing a carbine. He found it in his unit, that and a couple boxes of ammo, so Sara’s the only one of us that won’t be armed. Cleve ain’t happy about that, but Sara insisted on coming to help.”
“Yeah. Maybe neither of us will run into anything.”
Kelly slipped back to the top of the steps and listened to them talk until Shady started squirming, then hurried back to #202. She kept a firm grip on her kitten until the door latched, then let him jump to the floor and run to the laundry area. Ben, sleeping on the futon in the living room, stirred then was still. An ember crackled in the fireplace, and the honest smell of a wood fire had conquered the last of the stinky fridge. Except for her flashlight, which illuminated very little beyond a few feet, the unit was pitch-dark. She walked to the hallway then turned off the light and trailed her left hand along the wall, navigating by feel, until she reached her bedroom. Kicking off her shoes, she burrowed under the pile of blankets and quilts on her bed and waited for things to warm up again before shedding her clothes.
Okay, I guess, Cody had said. Tim had probably forgotten how to speak Teenager — Susie Lin, a classmate, once told her that Mandarin was another language where a word could have multiple meanings depending on inflection — so he wouldn’t know that Cody said I’m in heaven, dude. Things had gotten so complicated… she hadn’t thought she was interested in him until Sondra came along… and not only were the two of them free agents, Kelly had both her parents to watch over her! How was she supposed to compete with that?
Tim and Cody weren’t going to be the only ones having a hard time sleeping tonight.
continued…
Monday, May 24, 2010 4 comments
White Pickups, Episode 36
Contents
Little Ben led Tim, Kelly, Jennifer, and the other kids to his house: a grey Cape Cod with brick trim. He tried the front door, and found it unlocked. “Come on in, guys,” he said. “Or Miss Kelly, maybe you should come in first, just in case my folks are home.”
Kelly shrugged and followed him in. Ben’s call went unanswered, leaving him a bit more disappointed than even he expected. “I should have known they wouldn’t be here,” he told Kelly. “They would have come for me at the theater.” She gestured to the others; they filed in.
The house smelled musty. “I hope Cheddar was outside,” Ben said.
“Who’s Cheddar?” Kelly asked.
“Our cat. He was yellow, like cheddar cheese. That’s how he got his name.”
“I’ll look for him,” Kelly said. “You take the others to get your stuff.” She checked the kitchen, found an unshredded bag of cat food and a mostly-unused litter box, then checked the bathroom and found it empty.
“Bring some big garbage bags!” Jennifer called. “They’re in the kitchen!”
“Good timing, I just left there!” Kelly called back and went to get the bags.
Most of Ben’s clothes were already piled on his bed by the time Kelly arrived. “I think Cheddar was outside,” she told Ben. “I didn’t seem him anywhere, and the cat food bag wasn’t torn up.”
“Good.” Ben turned back to his clothes. “I guess I better get my winter stuff too,” he said. “It’s in the closet by the laundry room, I think. Mom made me help her put away all that stuff in April.”
“Will it fit you?” Ashley asked him. “A lot of my stuff from last year didn’t fit me in the spring. I got to shop for new summer clothes.”
“Maybe.”
“Ben, does your family have any camping gear?” Tim asked. “Sleeping bags, lanterns, anything like that?”
“It would all be in the camper, and that’s at the self-store place.”
“Hm… do you know how to get there?”
“Not really.” Ben studied a bookshelf and pulled down several books. “It’s off Peachtree Industrial.”
“Ben, do you know where your parents put their mail?” Jennifer asked.
“Mom’s office, probably,” he said. “Why?”
“Maybe there will be a bill and it’ll tell us where the self-storage place is. We’ll need warm gear for the winter.”
“Oh. I thought that’s what you were getting at the mall.”
“We got what they had,” Tim said, “but it wasn’t enough for everyone. We expect we’ll find even more people, so we need to gather everything we can find, even if we don’t end up using it right away.”
“Yeah.” He looked at a knapsack on the floor next to his desk, hesitated. “We don’t have to get my school books, do we?”
Kelly and Jennifer laughed. “Just because the world ended doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have an education!” The kids groaned.
“Well, who’s gonna teach us?” Sheldon said, as Ben hefted the pack.
“All of us,” Tim said. “I don’t think it will be school like before, sitting in class all day.”
“So why bring the books?”
“We might be able to use them,” Jennifer said. “That goes for all of you. Well, let’s get your stuff loaded up. You sure you have everything you want? It might be a while before we come back for anything else.”
“Sure,” Ben said, and everyone hoisted bags or boxes.
As they stepped outside, a scrawny yellow cat slipped out of the bushes and meowed, looking wary of all the strange people. “It’s Cheddar!” Ben said. “Oh man, he’s skinny! C’mon, kitty, let’s get you a snack.” He dropped his bags and ducked back in the house, the cat at his heels.
“Let’s put this stuff on the trailer,” Tim said after a moment. “I sure hope they have a pet carrier in the house somewhere.”
“I’ll go ask Ben,” Kelly said, dropping her bag of Ben’s clothes on the trailer.
Ben was sitting on the floor in the kitchen, stroking the cat as he ate. “I hope we can take him with us,” Ben said as the cat purred around a mouthful of cat food. “I never really liked him that much before, but he’s…” He waved his hand around.
“All that’s left,” Kelly said, leaving of your family unsaid. “Do you know if he had a carrier here?”
“Sure, it’s in the closet by the back door. Good idea.”
Kelly walked to the back of the house and looked out the back door window before opening the closet door. “Ben!” she called, pulling out the carrier and a box of Ben’s winter clothes on top of it. “Did your neighbors have a garden?”
“Yeah. I used to sneak over and pick up rotten tomatoes to throw at the tree. Did you find the carrier?”
“Uh-huh. Are there any grocery bags in the kitchen?”
“Sure, Mom always put ’em in the bottom drawer by the sink. Why?”
“Nobody’s had fresh vegetables in over a week! We’re gonna go pick!” Kelly returned with the carrier and the box, and found the drawer with the bags. “Will he give you any problem about going in the carrier?”
“Nah, I’ll put his dish in there. He’ll follow it right in.”
Kelly ran out the front door, waving the grocery bags. “I can’t believe we almost missed it!” she yelled. “There’s a garden next door!”
Ben followed the chatter out the back door, carrier in hand. The older three were happily tramping down the wet rows: “How can you tell if green beans are ready?” “Is this corn any good?” “Yeah, get the green tomatoes too if they’re big enough. They’ll ripen.” “Hey Jennifer, no fair eating the cherry tomatoes!” The other kids followed behind, picking or tying full bags and carrying them to the edge of the garden.
Ashley handed Ben a handful of bags. “I’m allergic to cats,” she said, “but he can stay in the shade. Let’s go help.” Ben sighed and followed her into the garden.
continued…
Little Ben led Tim, Kelly, Jennifer, and the other kids to his house: a grey Cape Cod with brick trim. He tried the front door, and found it unlocked. “Come on in, guys,” he said. “Or Miss Kelly, maybe you should come in first, just in case my folks are home.”
Kelly shrugged and followed him in. Ben’s call went unanswered, leaving him a bit more disappointed than even he expected. “I should have known they wouldn’t be here,” he told Kelly. “They would have come for me at the theater.” She gestured to the others; they filed in.
The house smelled musty. “I hope Cheddar was outside,” Ben said.
“Who’s Cheddar?” Kelly asked.
“Our cat. He was yellow, like cheddar cheese. That’s how he got his name.”
“I’ll look for him,” Kelly said. “You take the others to get your stuff.” She checked the kitchen, found an unshredded bag of cat food and a mostly-unused litter box, then checked the bathroom and found it empty.
“Bring some big garbage bags!” Jennifer called. “They’re in the kitchen!”
“Good timing, I just left there!” Kelly called back and went to get the bags.
Most of Ben’s clothes were already piled on his bed by the time Kelly arrived. “I think Cheddar was outside,” she told Ben. “I didn’t seem him anywhere, and the cat food bag wasn’t torn up.”
“Good.” Ben turned back to his clothes. “I guess I better get my winter stuff too,” he said. “It’s in the closet by the laundry room, I think. Mom made me help her put away all that stuff in April.”
“Will it fit you?” Ashley asked him. “A lot of my stuff from last year didn’t fit me in the spring. I got to shop for new summer clothes.”
“Maybe.”
“Ben, does your family have any camping gear?” Tim asked. “Sleeping bags, lanterns, anything like that?”
“It would all be in the camper, and that’s at the self-store place.”
“Hm… do you know how to get there?”
“Not really.” Ben studied a bookshelf and pulled down several books. “It’s off Peachtree Industrial.”
“Ben, do you know where your parents put their mail?” Jennifer asked.
“Mom’s office, probably,” he said. “Why?”
“Maybe there will be a bill and it’ll tell us where the self-storage place is. We’ll need warm gear for the winter.”
“Oh. I thought that’s what you were getting at the mall.”
“We got what they had,” Tim said, “but it wasn’t enough for everyone. We expect we’ll find even more people, so we need to gather everything we can find, even if we don’t end up using it right away.”
“Yeah.” He looked at a knapsack on the floor next to his desk, hesitated. “We don’t have to get my school books, do we?”
Kelly and Jennifer laughed. “Just because the world ended doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have an education!” The kids groaned.
“Well, who’s gonna teach us?” Sheldon said, as Ben hefted the pack.
“All of us,” Tim said. “I don’t think it will be school like before, sitting in class all day.”
“So why bring the books?”
“We might be able to use them,” Jennifer said. “That goes for all of you. Well, let’s get your stuff loaded up. You sure you have everything you want? It might be a while before we come back for anything else.”
“Sure,” Ben said, and everyone hoisted bags or boxes.
As they stepped outside, a scrawny yellow cat slipped out of the bushes and meowed, looking wary of all the strange people. “It’s Cheddar!” Ben said. “Oh man, he’s skinny! C’mon, kitty, let’s get you a snack.” He dropped his bags and ducked back in the house, the cat at his heels.
“Let’s put this stuff on the trailer,” Tim said after a moment. “I sure hope they have a pet carrier in the house somewhere.”
“I’ll go ask Ben,” Kelly said, dropping her bag of Ben’s clothes on the trailer.
Ben was sitting on the floor in the kitchen, stroking the cat as he ate. “I hope we can take him with us,” Ben said as the cat purred around a mouthful of cat food. “I never really liked him that much before, but he’s…” He waved his hand around.
“All that’s left,” Kelly said, leaving of your family unsaid. “Do you know if he had a carrier here?”
“Sure, it’s in the closet by the back door. Good idea.”
Kelly walked to the back of the house and looked out the back door window before opening the closet door. “Ben!” she called, pulling out the carrier and a box of Ben’s winter clothes on top of it. “Did your neighbors have a garden?”
“Yeah. I used to sneak over and pick up rotten tomatoes to throw at the tree. Did you find the carrier?”
“Uh-huh. Are there any grocery bags in the kitchen?”
“Sure, Mom always put ’em in the bottom drawer by the sink. Why?”
“Nobody’s had fresh vegetables in over a week! We’re gonna go pick!” Kelly returned with the carrier and the box, and found the drawer with the bags. “Will he give you any problem about going in the carrier?”
“Nah, I’ll put his dish in there. He’ll follow it right in.”
Kelly ran out the front door, waving the grocery bags. “I can’t believe we almost missed it!” she yelled. “There’s a garden next door!”
Ben followed the chatter out the back door, carrier in hand. The older three were happily tramping down the wet rows: “How can you tell if green beans are ready?” “Is this corn any good?” “Yeah, get the green tomatoes too if they’re big enough. They’ll ripen.” “Hey Jennifer, no fair eating the cherry tomatoes!” The other kids followed behind, picking or tying full bags and carrying them to the edge of the garden.
Ashley handed Ben a handful of bags. “I’m allergic to cats,” she said, “but he can stay in the shade. Let’s go help.” Ben sighed and followed her into the garden.
continued…
Monday, May 17, 2010 2 comments
White Pickups, Episode 35
Contents
“Kelly and I will take them,” Tina said. “One of them, anyway. I doubt Kelly would let me not make the offer.” That drew several chuckles, and several others offered at once to take in one or more of the kids as well.
“We could let the kids decide who they want to stay with,” Sondra said. Cody gave her a horrified look, which made her snicker.
“At this point, the kids would probably choose Jennifer, Kelly, and Tim,” Tina said, trying to hide a smile herself, “simply because they’re the ones taking them around to get bikes. They know those three better by now than the rest of us.”
“Well, four of them would,” Cody muttered. Only Sondra heard, and stifled a laugh.
“A few of us have either had kids, or helped with kids before,” Tina continued. “I suggest that anyone who has had a — what’s the word, tween? — a ten year old child around and was comfortable with that should be at least considered.”
“That would include me, I suppose,” Charles said.
“I’ve helped raise a few kids,” Sally McMinn said. “I could probably teach ’em something useful, too.”
“I bet you could!” Johnny Latimer retorted from a safe distance. She ignored him.
“Jennifer will probably insist on adopting at least one of them,” Charles said. “So you, me, Jennifer, Ms. Sally… and if someone takes two, we’re set.”
“I always wanted children,” Sara said, sitting next to Tim. “Maybe I’ll have my own some day, but I wouldn’t mind a head start.”
I wouldn ’t mind giving you a head start, Cleve thought to himself. Tim glanced at her.
“Well, we have our five surrogate parents,” Charles said. “All that’s left is to figure out which kid gets which adult.”
“Speaking of the devil… or five of them, anyway,” Max said, looking out the window at the parade of kids on bikes.
“You sure you don’t want to take in Caitlin?” Sondra whispered to Cody.
“Where’d she sleep? We only got one bedroom.”
“Yeah, good point. We’ll just have to — get by with letting her visit.”
Cody snickered, hugging Sondra tighter.
Tim came in with the kids in tow, followed by Kelly and Jennifer. “Hey all,” Tim said. “We’ve been talking. Turns out Ben, Ashley, and Sheldon all lived fairly close to here. They’re all feeling a lot better, so we’re going to take a little ride to Ben’s place first and then Ashley’s or Sheldon’s if they’re up to it. Caitlin and Lily live a bit farther away, but they agreed to let us get to their places later. They’re all coming with us so they can pick up some of their belongings and bring them back. And get some exercise. They were cooped up in that mall for a long time.
“All the kids say they’ll be fine with whoever they live with — we’ll see each other every day anyway, so it doesn’t matter who they live with, we’ll all be helping raise them. We can figure out who they’ll stay with when we get back. See ya.”
“Bye!” The kids all waved at the others, then filed out.
Nobody spoke for a few moments. “Well,” Tina said at last, “I guess that lets us put off the decision for a little longer.”
“In that case, let’s talk creature comforts,” Johnny said. “I don’t know about the rest of y’all, but I ain’t exactly lookin’ forward to the day when we run out of gas — or it all goes bad — and we can’t light this place up anymore. We need to use some of it to cut up wood for the winter, and we need to get us some chainsaws too.”
“We’re going to get some solar panels this week,” Tina reminded him. “That won’t run a chainsaw, though. We’ll do alright this winter, but we need to start looking to next winter as well, don’t we?”
“Natural gas, too,” Sara said. “I think the pressure’s starting to go down. We’ll all be grilling outside in a week or two, I’m afraid.”
“Maybe we need to build a brick oven of sorts,” Sally McMinn said. “And an outhouse or two.”
“Speaking of gas,” Jason said, and everyone laughed. “No, seriously. We can capture the methane from our… sewage. It’s pretty low-tech. There was all sorts of stuff about it online, but maybe there will be something at a bookstore or local library. Where is the library around here, anyway?”
Charles drew a vertical line down the middle of the whiteboard. On the right side, he wrote:
Brick oven/outdoor cooking
Outhouses
Methane capture
Chain saws/firewood
Library?
“We need to hit a few auto parts stores, or hardware stores,” Cody said, “maybe both. If we can scrounge up enough gasoline preservative, we might be able to use the gas at the QuickFill until it’s gone.”
Gasoline preservative
“What do we do with it?” asked Ben.
“Just dump it in the storage tank,” Johnny said. “Maybe stir it a bit with the dipstick.”
“If we do that, maybe we could just leave it for later, and use up some other station’s gas until it goes bad,” Ben said. “Would that work?”
“The next closest gas station is another two miles past the QuickFill,” Tina said. “Is it going to be worth the effort to go that far, when we’re going to have to go without gasoline sooner or later?”
“Sure. I don’t know about you, but I’m not ready to give up my creature comforts either. Not having hot water or working toilets is bad enough. Besides, we’re using ten, maybe fifteen, gallons a day. It’ll be gone in what… three or four months?”
“Maybe a little longer,” Kelly said. “There was about 1800 gallons in the tank when I checked it last week. We’re pumping ten or fifteen gallons a day to run the generators. If we were trying to light up this whole place, it would be gone pretty quick, but if it doesn’t go bad it should last four to six months. Maybe a little less — we won’t be able to siphon out every drop, after all.”
“What about the chainsaws?” Johnny Latimer said. “I don’t wanna try sawing firewood by hand, we’ll be doin’ it every day of the year!”
“We could try making ethanol,” Jason suggested. “I've already heard some talk about setting up a still. Maybe we’ll be able to keep a few chainsaws going on what doesn’t get drank.” Laughter.
Ethanol
“If we get enough juice here,” Cleve said, “maybe we could run a few electric chain saws.”
“They’d be good for cutting little stuff,” Johnny said. “Nothing more than a few inches across.”
“Better than nothing.”
“That’s a lot of electricity,” Cody said. “And you’d have to drag the trees to where the juice is to cut ’em up anyway. I guess we’ll see what we come up with when we go for the solar panels tomorrow or Thursday.”
continued…
“Kelly and I will take them,” Tina said. “One of them, anyway. I doubt Kelly would let me not make the offer.” That drew several chuckles, and several others offered at once to take in one or more of the kids as well.
“We could let the kids decide who they want to stay with,” Sondra said. Cody gave her a horrified look, which made her snicker.
“At this point, the kids would probably choose Jennifer, Kelly, and Tim,” Tina said, trying to hide a smile herself, “simply because they’re the ones taking them around to get bikes. They know those three better by now than the rest of us.”
“Well, four of them would,” Cody muttered. Only Sondra heard, and stifled a laugh.
“A few of us have either had kids, or helped with kids before,” Tina continued. “I suggest that anyone who has had a — what’s the word, tween? — a ten year old child around and was comfortable with that should be at least considered.”
“That would include me, I suppose,” Charles said.
“I’ve helped raise a few kids,” Sally McMinn said. “I could probably teach ’em something useful, too.”
“I bet you could!” Johnny Latimer retorted from a safe distance. She ignored him.
“Jennifer will probably insist on adopting at least one of them,” Charles said. “So you, me, Jennifer, Ms. Sally… and if someone takes two, we’re set.”
“I always wanted children,” Sara said, sitting next to Tim. “Maybe I’ll have my own some day, but I wouldn’t mind a head start.”
I wouldn ’t mind giving you a head start, Cleve thought to himself. Tim glanced at her.
“Well, we have our five surrogate parents,” Charles said. “All that’s left is to figure out which kid gets which adult.”
“Speaking of the devil… or five of them, anyway,” Max said, looking out the window at the parade of kids on bikes.
“You sure you don’t want to take in Caitlin?” Sondra whispered to Cody.
“Where’d she sleep? We only got one bedroom.”
“Yeah, good point. We’ll just have to — get by with letting her visit.”
Cody snickered, hugging Sondra tighter.
Tim came in with the kids in tow, followed by Kelly and Jennifer. “Hey all,” Tim said. “We’ve been talking. Turns out Ben, Ashley, and Sheldon all lived fairly close to here. They’re all feeling a lot better, so we’re going to take a little ride to Ben’s place first and then Ashley’s or Sheldon’s if they’re up to it. Caitlin and Lily live a bit farther away, but they agreed to let us get to their places later. They’re all coming with us so they can pick up some of their belongings and bring them back. And get some exercise. They were cooped up in that mall for a long time.
“All the kids say they’ll be fine with whoever they live with — we’ll see each other every day anyway, so it doesn’t matter who they live with, we’ll all be helping raise them. We can figure out who they’ll stay with when we get back. See ya.”
“Bye!” The kids all waved at the others, then filed out.
Nobody spoke for a few moments. “Well,” Tina said at last, “I guess that lets us put off the decision for a little longer.”
“In that case, let’s talk creature comforts,” Johnny said. “I don’t know about the rest of y’all, but I ain’t exactly lookin’ forward to the day when we run out of gas — or it all goes bad — and we can’t light this place up anymore. We need to use some of it to cut up wood for the winter, and we need to get us some chainsaws too.”
“We’re going to get some solar panels this week,” Tina reminded him. “That won’t run a chainsaw, though. We’ll do alright this winter, but we need to start looking to next winter as well, don’t we?”
“Natural gas, too,” Sara said. “I think the pressure’s starting to go down. We’ll all be grilling outside in a week or two, I’m afraid.”
“Maybe we need to build a brick oven of sorts,” Sally McMinn said. “And an outhouse or two.”
“Speaking of gas,” Jason said, and everyone laughed. “No, seriously. We can capture the methane from our… sewage. It’s pretty low-tech. There was all sorts of stuff about it online, but maybe there will be something at a bookstore or local library. Where is the library around here, anyway?”
Charles drew a vertical line down the middle of the whiteboard. On the right side, he wrote:
Brick oven/outdoor cooking
Outhouses
Methane capture
Chain saws/firewood
Library?
“We need to hit a few auto parts stores, or hardware stores,” Cody said, “maybe both. If we can scrounge up enough gasoline preservative, we might be able to use the gas at the QuickFill until it’s gone.”
Gasoline preservative
“What do we do with it?” asked Ben.
“Just dump it in the storage tank,” Johnny said. “Maybe stir it a bit with the dipstick.”
“If we do that, maybe we could just leave it for later, and use up some other station’s gas until it goes bad,” Ben said. “Would that work?”
“The next closest gas station is another two miles past the QuickFill,” Tina said. “Is it going to be worth the effort to go that far, when we’re going to have to go without gasoline sooner or later?”
“Sure. I don’t know about you, but I’m not ready to give up my creature comforts either. Not having hot water or working toilets is bad enough. Besides, we’re using ten, maybe fifteen, gallons a day. It’ll be gone in what… three or four months?”
“Maybe a little longer,” Kelly said. “There was about 1800 gallons in the tank when I checked it last week. We’re pumping ten or fifteen gallons a day to run the generators. If we were trying to light up this whole place, it would be gone pretty quick, but if it doesn’t go bad it should last four to six months. Maybe a little less — we won’t be able to siphon out every drop, after all.”
“What about the chainsaws?” Johnny Latimer said. “I don’t wanna try sawing firewood by hand, we’ll be doin’ it every day of the year!”
“We could try making ethanol,” Jason suggested. “I've already heard some talk about setting up a still. Maybe we’ll be able to keep a few chainsaws going on what doesn’t get drank.” Laughter.
Ethanol
“If we get enough juice here,” Cleve said, “maybe we could run a few electric chain saws.”
“They’d be good for cutting little stuff,” Johnny said. “Nothing more than a few inches across.”
“Better than nothing.”
“That’s a lot of electricity,” Cody said. “And you’d have to drag the trees to where the juice is to cut ’em up anyway. I guess we’ll see what we come up with when we go for the solar panels tomorrow or Thursday.”
continued…
Monday, May 10, 2010 4 comments
White Pickups, Episode 34
Contents
The kids soon got nervous with everyone hovering over them, watching them eat lunch in the clubhouse, until Jennifer and Kelly shooed the adults away. They returned to their own lunches, talking about what they had seen at the mall and out at the gate. The kids finished their sandwiches, and some multi-vitamins they scrounged from various houses, and they all looked noticeably better after a single decent meal. Kelly, Jennifer, and Tim offered to take them around the complex and find each one a suitable bicycle. After they left, Tina moved to stand between a whiteboard on an easel, taken from the clubhouse office, and a TV set.
“Let’s take a look at the video again,” Tina said, “then we’re going to start asking questions — not only about the trucks, but about everything — and we’re not going to worry about answers just now. Charles, let’s start the generator, so we can put this on the big screen for everyone to see.” He stepped outside, and Ben — Big Ben, now that there was a Little Ben — connected his camcorder to the flat screen and waited.
“What a relief,” Cody whispered to Sondra.
“What?”
“Caitlin’s doing something else. She — I don’t know.”
Sondra stifled a laugh. “I’m sorry, Cody. It’s just so cute. You never had to fend off all the girls, have you?”
He shrugged, and gave her a lopsided grin. “I always figured the world would end first. I was right!” This time, Cody laughed with her, and it felt good. “I don’t want to hurt her, but I don’t know how to deal with her either. She’s like my sister’s age, and she was never like that.”
Charles stepped back inside before Sondra could answer. “Okay, Ben. Let’s see what there is to see.”
Ben pressed Play, then fast-forwarded through the mall footage to Cody lighting the torch. “The trucks show up on the video,” he said. “That’s not surprising, when you think about it — anything that creates or reflects light is going to be picked up by the sensor.”
“But they could still be an illusion, though,” Johnny Latimer said. “Like a mirage. That’s a reflection too, right?”
“Heck of a reflection,” Cody said. “It reflected my foot and a crowbar.”
“Yeah,” Ben said, pausing where Cody put the torch to the truck. “But it didn’t reflect — or deflect — the flame.” The intense white of Cody’s blowtorch nearly filled the screen, until the camcorder adjusted, then they could see it disappearing into the body of the truck. He fast-forwarded to where Cody threw the crowbar, then stepped the video frame by frame. “And… well, you can see it.” They all watched the crowbar disappear through the windshield, and Cody retrieving it and banging it on the side of the truck before dropping it through the bed.
“Seen enough?” Tina asked. Nobody objected. “All right, we’ll start asking questions.” Ben turned off the gadgetry while Charles went to cut off the generator.
“She’ll get over it,” Sondra whispered to Cody. “I had a crush on a high-school kid when I was eleven. By the time I was thirteen, I wondered what the big deal was.”
“Lucky him,” Cody whispered back. “And lucky me he didn’t sweep you away.” He grinned. “We need to come up with something to keep the kids occupied through the day, though. Maybe a school of sorts.”
“What would we teach them now?” Sondra said. “Reading, math… sure.”
“Science and technology. They’ll need to know how to rebuild. Even history, and I hated it. But they need to understand how things were.”
“Are we ready?” Tina said. “Who has a question?”
Cody sat up straight. “This doesn’t have anything to do with the pickups — or maybe it has everything to do with them. There’s five little kids to take care of now — how do we raise them? Are we gonna try to give them some kind of education?”
The others murmered encouragement. “That’s… probably the most important question anyone could have asked,” Charles said, back inside. “Of course, I was in education before the Truckalypse, so naturally I’d think that.” A few chuckles. “You know, it seems to be we also have three kids of high school age here. What are we going to do about completing their education?”
More laughter; Cody grinned. “I did okay with math and science. English, yeah, I just wasn’t that interested. But I don’t guess there’s gonna be much demand for video game designers in my lifetime!” The others laughed again. “I guess I — all of us, really — should be learning what we can about how to grow food and make useful stuff out of all the junk the drive-offs left behind.”
Charles wrote Continuing Education on the whiteboard. “And I guess that goes for all of us,” he said. “Okay, now that the really important question has been asked, what else do we want to know?”
“Where did the trucks come from?”
“Why did they come?”
“Why haven’t they tried to attack us or anything?”
“Can we get rid of them somehow?”
“How many people are left in the world? And how many do we need to keep the gene pool full?”
Charles wrote:
Trucks: origin, purpose, how to fight Number of survivors Gene pool concerns
“I know we’re not supposed to be answering questions,” Max said, “but I’ve heard that you need about 150 people to keep a gene pool viable. And that there were about 10,000 humans alive at the end of the last ice age, but I guess they were scattered around. So we need to find at least four or five more groups our size.”
Charles jotted >10,000? next to Number of survivors and need >150 next to Gene pool concerns. “Any more questions?”
“Yeah,” Johnny Latimer said. “How can we go about contacting other groups of survivors, and… intermingling, I guess?”
How to contact other groups
“Sooner or later, there will be new kids,” Sondra said. She rolled her eyes at the few snickers (word was already getting around). “As far as I know, nobody here has medical training beyond first aid. How do we learn what to do in the next year or so? For that matter, what do we do if someone gets injured?”
Medics?
“Who’s going to raise these kids?” Sally McMinn said, standing up in the back. “Yeah, I know we’re all gonna have a hand in taking care of 'em. But who are they gonna live with?”
“That’s maybe the second most important question,” Tina said. “And unlike the others, we can’t leave it unanswered today. Let’s give this some thought.”
continued…
The kids soon got nervous with everyone hovering over them, watching them eat lunch in the clubhouse, until Jennifer and Kelly shooed the adults away. They returned to their own lunches, talking about what they had seen at the mall and out at the gate. The kids finished their sandwiches, and some multi-vitamins they scrounged from various houses, and they all looked noticeably better after a single decent meal. Kelly, Jennifer, and Tim offered to take them around the complex and find each one a suitable bicycle. After they left, Tina moved to stand between a whiteboard on an easel, taken from the clubhouse office, and a TV set.
“Let’s take a look at the video again,” Tina said, “then we’re going to start asking questions — not only about the trucks, but about everything — and we’re not going to worry about answers just now. Charles, let’s start the generator, so we can put this on the big screen for everyone to see.” He stepped outside, and Ben — Big Ben, now that there was a Little Ben — connected his camcorder to the flat screen and waited.
“What a relief,” Cody whispered to Sondra.
“What?”
“Caitlin’s doing something else. She — I don’t know.”
Sondra stifled a laugh. “I’m sorry, Cody. It’s just so cute. You never had to fend off all the girls, have you?”
He shrugged, and gave her a lopsided grin. “I always figured the world would end first. I was right!” This time, Cody laughed with her, and it felt good. “I don’t want to hurt her, but I don’t know how to deal with her either. She’s like my sister’s age, and she was never like that.”
Charles stepped back inside before Sondra could answer. “Okay, Ben. Let’s see what there is to see.”
Ben pressed Play, then fast-forwarded through the mall footage to Cody lighting the torch. “The trucks show up on the video,” he said. “That’s not surprising, when you think about it — anything that creates or reflects light is going to be picked up by the sensor.”
“But they could still be an illusion, though,” Johnny Latimer said. “Like a mirage. That’s a reflection too, right?”
“Heck of a reflection,” Cody said. “It reflected my foot and a crowbar.”
“Yeah,” Ben said, pausing where Cody put the torch to the truck. “But it didn’t reflect — or deflect — the flame.” The intense white of Cody’s blowtorch nearly filled the screen, until the camcorder adjusted, then they could see it disappearing into the body of the truck. He fast-forwarded to where Cody threw the crowbar, then stepped the video frame by frame. “And… well, you can see it.” They all watched the crowbar disappear through the windshield, and Cody retrieving it and banging it on the side of the truck before dropping it through the bed.
“Seen enough?” Tina asked. Nobody objected. “All right, we’ll start asking questions.” Ben turned off the gadgetry while Charles went to cut off the generator.
“She’ll get over it,” Sondra whispered to Cody. “I had a crush on a high-school kid when I was eleven. By the time I was thirteen, I wondered what the big deal was.”
“Lucky him,” Cody whispered back. “And lucky me he didn’t sweep you away.” He grinned. “We need to come up with something to keep the kids occupied through the day, though. Maybe a school of sorts.”
“What would we teach them now?” Sondra said. “Reading, math… sure.”
“Science and technology. They’ll need to know how to rebuild. Even history, and I hated it. But they need to understand how things were.”
“Are we ready?” Tina said. “Who has a question?”
Cody sat up straight. “This doesn’t have anything to do with the pickups — or maybe it has everything to do with them. There’s five little kids to take care of now — how do we raise them? Are we gonna try to give them some kind of education?”
The others murmered encouragement. “That’s… probably the most important question anyone could have asked,” Charles said, back inside. “Of course, I was in education before the Truckalypse, so naturally I’d think that.” A few chuckles. “You know, it seems to be we also have three kids of high school age here. What are we going to do about completing their education?”
More laughter; Cody grinned. “I did okay with math and science. English, yeah, I just wasn’t that interested. But I don’t guess there’s gonna be much demand for video game designers in my lifetime!” The others laughed again. “I guess I — all of us, really — should be learning what we can about how to grow food and make useful stuff out of all the junk the drive-offs left behind.”
Charles wrote Continuing Education on the whiteboard. “And I guess that goes for all of us,” he said. “Okay, now that the really important question has been asked, what else do we want to know?”
“Where did the trucks come from?”
“Why did they come?”
“Why haven’t they tried to attack us or anything?”
“Can we get rid of them somehow?”
“How many people are left in the world? And how many do we need to keep the gene pool full?”
Charles wrote:
Trucks: origin, purpose, how to fight Number of survivors Gene pool concerns
“I know we’re not supposed to be answering questions,” Max said, “but I’ve heard that you need about 150 people to keep a gene pool viable. And that there were about 10,000 humans alive at the end of the last ice age, but I guess they were scattered around. So we need to find at least four or five more groups our size.”
Charles jotted >10,000? next to Number of survivors and need >150 next to Gene pool concerns. “Any more questions?”
“Yeah,” Johnny Latimer said. “How can we go about contacting other groups of survivors, and… intermingling, I guess?”
How to contact other groups
“Sooner or later, there will be new kids,” Sondra said. She rolled her eyes at the few snickers (word was already getting around). “As far as I know, nobody here has medical training beyond first aid. How do we learn what to do in the next year or so? For that matter, what do we do if someone gets injured?”
Medics?
“Who’s going to raise these kids?” Sally McMinn said, standing up in the back. “Yeah, I know we’re all gonna have a hand in taking care of 'em. But who are they gonna live with?”
“That’s maybe the second most important question,” Tina said. “And unlike the others, we can’t leave it unanswered today. Let’s give this some thought.”
continued…
Monday, May 03, 2010 2 comments
White Pickups, Episode 33
Contents
The trip back to Laurel took longer, with the kids and merchandise weighing things down. Cody volunteered to pull a Kidd Hauler, and Caitlin insisted on being his passenger (to Sondra’s continued amusement, and Cody’s continued embarrassment). The kids acted almost relieved to have adults — any adults — around again, and peppered their drivers with conversation.
“I don’t live far from here,” Ben Crawford told Palmer as they turned into the entrance to Laurel. “Keep going and take the third right. Or fourth.”
“What’s your address?” Palmer said.
“4573 Mary Street. Do you think we can go and see if my parents are there?”
“In a little while. But if they’re at home…” Palmer thought better of finishing the question and let it trail off.
“Yeah,” Ben said. “I guess they’re not. But we should check anyway. When we can.”
The white pickup was still sitting near the gate. Cody glared at the thing as he held the gate for everyone else, then stomped over to the truck and flung the driver-side door open. “Look, you —” He stopped a moment, braced against the pull, then slammed the door (it made a hollow chuff sound) and stomped back. Everyone else had stopped to watch.
“What was it?” someone asked.
“Nothing,” Cody said. “The damn thing’s empty.”
“It’s waiting for a driver,” Charles said.
“Well, it can wait until I get back,” Cody growled. “I’m getting a cutting torch, I can see what makes it go and it can wait here in pieces until hell freezes over for all I care.” He rode off, leading the pack to the clubhouse.
“I wanna come with you,” Caitlin said as he disconnected the Kidd Hauler in front of the clubhouse.
“I need to use a regular trailer,” Cody said. “I’m getting a cutting torch, and it has a couple tanks for the fuel, so there won’t be room for a passenger. I’ll be back in twenty minutes or so.”
“Well… can I watch you cut it up?”
“Sure, if you stay inside the fence. I guess everyone else is gonna come watch.”
Indeed, everyone was at the gate before Cody returned, carrying the torch, tanks, and a crowbar on the trailer, a welding mask dangling off the handlebars. Ben had his camera rolling once again, standing off to one side. Sondra and Charles volunteered to help, and convinced everyone else to stay inside the gate. Cody left the crowbar sitting on the trailer as the three of them carried the torch and tanks over to the truck. He opened the valves on the tanks and scraped a sparker in front of the torch until it caught. He put on the welding mask, adjusted the flame to a thin, intense blue pencil and walked over to the truck.
“Awright, you SOB,” he said, his voice muffled by the mask, “let’s make you a hood and then we’ll see what’s under it.” He brought the flame down to the truck. “Whoa. That’s whack.”
“What?” Charles asked.
“The flame. Look at it.” Charles and Sondra walked over; Sondra rubbed her arm without seeming to notice.
“Why isn’t it cutting?” she asked.
“Damn if I know. But the flame isn’t even splashing… it looks like it’s going right through the sheet metal. Watch.” He lifted the nozzle up, then down. “But it ain’t cutting.” He pulled the flame away, touched the metal, then laid his hand on it. “Not even warm.”
“Wow. Is there anything you can do about that?”
“Quit?” Cody cut off the torch and pulled the mask off his head. “It’s not life or death. ” He coiled up the hose and they rolled the tanks back onto the trailer. “Waste of time anyway —” Suddenly, Cody snatched up the crowbar and threw it at the truck. “Bite me!” he yelled, as the crowbar went through the window —
Without breaking. And clattered to the pavement behind the truck.
Everyone stood gaping, then started talking at once. “What the hell?” Johnny Latimer said, for all of them.
“It’s like… like it wasn’t even there,” Charles said.
Cody reached under the back of the pickup and retrieved the crowbar. “It’s there,” he said, “I guess.” He kicked the rear fender. “Ow. It feels like it’s there.” He reached out with the crowbar; it thumped against the rim of the bed. “It’s there if we hit it with something.” He tossed the crowbar into the bed, and it clanged to the pavement again. “But if you’re not touching that something… it goes right through.”
Everyone stood quiet for a moment. “Are they real, then?” Ashley Harbin (one of the kids) asked.
“It’s one h— heck of a hallucination if it’s not,” Tim said.
“I guess that’s how they stay so clean,” Tina suggested. “The dirt doesn’t stick to them. It’s not there for the dirt.”
Cody ducked as a yellow jacket flew by his head and landed on the truck. “I think it’s only there for living things. Or whatever they’re holding.”
“We need to discuss this,” Charles said.
“We need to experiment,” Cody replied, tapping the bed with his crowbar. He shifted to a two-handed grip and took a hard sideways swing at the side of the truck. The crowbar bounced back and Cody let it go; it tumbled up the pavement, away from the others.
Cody shook his hands. “That stung. Good thing I was expecting it.” He squatted down. “Not even a mark, let alone a dent.” He stood. “Hey Ben, bring that camera over here. I’m gonna do it again, but I want you to tape it.” He retrieved the crowbar while Ben slipped around the truck. “Yeah, stand over here, next to me. I’m gonna whack the taillight this time.” Ben zoomed in and Cody took his stance. “Ready, Fire, Aim!” He swung again, and once again let the crowbar bounce away. “Okay, come see what I did. Or didn’t do… that’s where I hit it, but you can’t tell. If that was really plastic, it would be all over the place right now, huh?”
Charles joined them, and tapped the sheet metal next to the taillight with a knuckle, then tapped the taillight itself. “Doesn’t feel any different,” he said. “They sound the same, too, don’t they?”
Cody rapped the door — thunk — then the side window, then the roof. “Yeah. Same sound each time. Same feel, too. What are these things made of, anyway?”
“Voodoo,” Tim said, not smiling. Several people nodded.
continued…
The trip back to Laurel took longer, with the kids and merchandise weighing things down. Cody volunteered to pull a Kidd Hauler, and Caitlin insisted on being his passenger (to Sondra’s continued amusement, and Cody’s continued embarrassment). The kids acted almost relieved to have adults — any adults — around again, and peppered their drivers with conversation.
“I don’t live far from here,” Ben Crawford told Palmer as they turned into the entrance to Laurel. “Keep going and take the third right. Or fourth.”
“What’s your address?” Palmer said.
“4573 Mary Street. Do you think we can go and see if my parents are there?”
“In a little while. But if they’re at home…” Palmer thought better of finishing the question and let it trail off.
“Yeah,” Ben said. “I guess they’re not. But we should check anyway. When we can.”
The white pickup was still sitting near the gate. Cody glared at the thing as he held the gate for everyone else, then stomped over to the truck and flung the driver-side door open. “Look, you —” He stopped a moment, braced against the pull, then slammed the door (it made a hollow chuff sound) and stomped back. Everyone else had stopped to watch.
“What was it?” someone asked.
“Nothing,” Cody said. “The damn thing’s empty.”
“It’s waiting for a driver,” Charles said.
“Well, it can wait until I get back,” Cody growled. “I’m getting a cutting torch, I can see what makes it go and it can wait here in pieces until hell freezes over for all I care.” He rode off, leading the pack to the clubhouse.
“I wanna come with you,” Caitlin said as he disconnected the Kidd Hauler in front of the clubhouse.
“I need to use a regular trailer,” Cody said. “I’m getting a cutting torch, and it has a couple tanks for the fuel, so there won’t be room for a passenger. I’ll be back in twenty minutes or so.”
“Well… can I watch you cut it up?”
“Sure, if you stay inside the fence. I guess everyone else is gonna come watch.”
Indeed, everyone was at the gate before Cody returned, carrying the torch, tanks, and a crowbar on the trailer, a welding mask dangling off the handlebars. Ben had his camera rolling once again, standing off to one side. Sondra and Charles volunteered to help, and convinced everyone else to stay inside the gate. Cody left the crowbar sitting on the trailer as the three of them carried the torch and tanks over to the truck. He opened the valves on the tanks and scraped a sparker in front of the torch until it caught. He put on the welding mask, adjusted the flame to a thin, intense blue pencil and walked over to the truck.
“Awright, you SOB,” he said, his voice muffled by the mask, “let’s make you a hood and then we’ll see what’s under it.” He brought the flame down to the truck. “Whoa. That’s whack.”
“What?” Charles asked.
“The flame. Look at it.” Charles and Sondra walked over; Sondra rubbed her arm without seeming to notice.
“Why isn’t it cutting?” she asked.
“Damn if I know. But the flame isn’t even splashing… it looks like it’s going right through the sheet metal. Watch.” He lifted the nozzle up, then down. “But it ain’t cutting.” He pulled the flame away, touched the metal, then laid his hand on it. “Not even warm.”
“Wow. Is there anything you can do about that?”
“Quit?” Cody cut off the torch and pulled the mask off his head. “It’s not life or death. ” He coiled up the hose and they rolled the tanks back onto the trailer. “Waste of time anyway —” Suddenly, Cody snatched up the crowbar and threw it at the truck. “Bite me!” he yelled, as the crowbar went through the window —
Without breaking. And clattered to the pavement behind the truck.
Everyone stood gaping, then started talking at once. “What the hell?” Johnny Latimer said, for all of them.
“It’s like… like it wasn’t even there,” Charles said.
Cody reached under the back of the pickup and retrieved the crowbar. “It’s there,” he said, “I guess.” He kicked the rear fender. “Ow. It feels like it’s there.” He reached out with the crowbar; it thumped against the rim of the bed. “It’s there if we hit it with something.” He tossed the crowbar into the bed, and it clanged to the pavement again. “But if you’re not touching that something… it goes right through.”
Everyone stood quiet for a moment. “Are they real, then?” Ashley Harbin (one of the kids) asked.
“It’s one h— heck of a hallucination if it’s not,” Tim said.
“I guess that’s how they stay so clean,” Tina suggested. “The dirt doesn’t stick to them. It’s not there for the dirt.”
Cody ducked as a yellow jacket flew by his head and landed on the truck. “I think it’s only there for living things. Or whatever they’re holding.”
“We need to discuss this,” Charles said.
“We need to experiment,” Cody replied, tapping the bed with his crowbar. He shifted to a two-handed grip and took a hard sideways swing at the side of the truck. The crowbar bounced back and Cody let it go; it tumbled up the pavement, away from the others.
Cody shook his hands. “That stung. Good thing I was expecting it.” He squatted down. “Not even a mark, let alone a dent.” He stood. “Hey Ben, bring that camera over here. I’m gonna do it again, but I want you to tape it.” He retrieved the crowbar while Ben slipped around the truck. “Yeah, stand over here, next to me. I’m gonna whack the taillight this time.” Ben zoomed in and Cody took his stance. “Ready, Fire, Aim!” He swung again, and once again let the crowbar bounce away. “Okay, come see what I did. Or didn’t do… that’s where I hit it, but you can’t tell. If that was really plastic, it would be all over the place right now, huh?”
Charles joined them, and tapped the sheet metal next to the taillight with a knuckle, then tapped the taillight itself. “Doesn’t feel any different,” he said. “They sound the same, too, don’t they?”
Cody rapped the door — thunk — then the side window, then the roof. “Yeah. Same sound each time. Same feel, too. What are these things made of, anyway?”
“Voodoo,” Tim said, not smiling. Several people nodded.
continued…
Monday, April 26, 2010 5 comments
White Pickups, Episode 32
Contents
Cleve reluctantly agreed to let the group split up. Tim took some riders to his shop to get the Kidd Haulers, while Jason and Ben rode to the nearby Borders to grab any gardening books and field guides in stock. Cody and Sondra went to Breakbeat Music, across from the food court — and Caitlin Cooper, the girl who had sat with Cody, insisted on coming with them. The chubby redhead — she could have been Tim’s daughter — clung to Cody’s hand along the way.
“Is she your girlfriend?” Caitlin asked him.
“Yeah,” Cody said. Caitlin looked at her feet as she walked for a moment, then looked at him again.
“Can a boy have two girlfriends?”
Cody goggled at Sondra, who stifled a laugh and turned away.
“Can I live with you guys?”
“Um… uh —” Cody stammered. “We only have one bedroom.”
“That’s okay. I can sleep in the living room.”
“We’re like a big family where we live,” Sondra said. “You might not live with us, but you’ll see us every day if you want to. Everyone spends the evenings in the clubhouse, we have supper together, then we’ve got games, a couple computers, and a DVD player. And there’s no trucks.”
“You have electricity? It went out here a long time ago.”
“We have two generators, and we siphon gas from the station around the corner. Cody was a lot of help getting it together.”
“Here we are,” Cody said. Breakbeat Music was dark, like everything else, but the last clerk hadn’t bothered to close the security gates before driving off. He turned on his flashlight. “Welcome to Breakbeat Music, how may I help you?”
Sondra and Caitlin both laughed. “Do you work here or something?” Caitlin asked.
“I did, before everyone drove off,” Cody said. “Wednesday was the last day I worked. They wanted me to come in on Thursday, but Mom’s car turned into you-know-what and I said I couldn’t get here. So what’s your favorite video game?”
“Super Mario Kart.”
“That’s a Wii game, we don’t… hey, no reason we can’t get a Wii too.” Cody pried his hand loose, ducked behind the counter, and came up with a key. “Lucky there’s so many TV sets around the complex, we don’t have to lug one of those all the way back home. Pick out some games you like, and some your friends will like, and we’ll bring a console and extra controllers along. Batteries, too.” He unlocked the glass and slid it aside.
“Cody?” Sondra said. “This is gonna add a bunch of weight to the load. Is this really worth it?”
“Sure — the kids can play the Wii, and the rest of us get the Playstation.”
“Maybe we ought to get another Playstation, then. I don’t think that thing got a minute of rest last night.”
“That can be arranged!” Cody unlocked another slider, thinking neither did we and grinning. “You ever play Barnstormer? It’s a racing game, but with old airplanes.”
“They have it? Get it for me! Pleeeease?” Sondra mock-whined, hands clasped, making Caitlin laugh. “I wanted to try that one, but I never got a chance.”
“They had a couple here on Wednesday. I doubt they sold out by Friday.” Cody opened a third door and played his flashlight along the shelves. “Yup, here it is!” Sondra cheered as he tossed the game on the counter; he reached down and picked up a Playstation. “And here’s our other console. Hey, I think we had a couple lefty controllers in stock, get one on me. And get a few of the other kind.” He shined his flashlight at a rack behind them. While Sondra looked at the accessories, Cody brought out several large bags.
“Can I get an iPod?” Caitlin asked. “I want a pink one, like that.” She pointed at the display.
“Sure,” Sondra said.
“Yeah,” Cody said, unlocking the display case. “You’d better go find some CDs you like, though. I think the Internet’s gone for good.”
Sondra helped Caitlin pick out some CDs while Cody got an iPod for each of the kids and loaded their haul into three bags. “Hm,” Cody said as they returned with a handful of jewel cases. “Probably around fifteen hundred bucks, including tax. They can take it out of my last paycheck. I’ll pay ’em back the other thirteen hundred later.” Caitlin took one of Cody’s hands before he could pick up the bags; he rolled his eyes and took one bag while Sondra took the other two.
“Hey,” Sondra said. “We need to get a jacket for Caitlin, don’t we?”
“Yeah. But we’ll be going through Sears, we’ll pick one up on the way out. Sweaters, too.” He paused a moment. “You know, I feel stupid for thinking about this just now: why didn’t we just pick jackets and sweaters out of the houses we’ve been cleaning out?”
“I guess it’s because everybody wants their own clothes. I know I didn’t really want to spend the rest of my life wearing clothes someone else left behind when they drove off. It’ll happen sooner or later, but there will be plenty of time for used stuff.”
“Yeah.”
“By the way: it was nice of you, offering Max your dad’s jacket like you did.”
Cody shrugged. “Well… it’s not like Dad’s going to be needing it.”
“Not just that. You know what I mean.”
“Yeah.” Cody looked down and let his hair cover his eyes. “But he’s accepted us. He apologized for being rude, and you set him straight about Philip. I don’t hold grudges… not anymore, anyway.” He flipped his hair back. “Let’s go.”
“Where did all the people go?” Caitlin asked, walking down the mall and clinging to Cody’s hand. “Did they die?”
“We don’t think so,” Sondra said. “We think they’re all driving around in those pickups.”
“Why don’t they stop?”
“Maybe they can’t,” Cody said. “But nobody knows for sure.”
Tina looked amused as the three emerged from Sears with their bundles. “You know… you guys could pass for a family.”
“It would be a… a very strange arrangement,” Cody said, looking embarrassed.
Sondra stepped over to Tina. “Caitlin wants to be his girlfriend too,” she whispered, making Tina laugh.
“Hey, he’s already got an older girlfriend,” Tina whispered back. “Why not a younger one too?”
Cody stepped forward, Caitlin in tow, as Tina and Sondra laughed together. “Hey… where’s the other kids?”
“They’re over there, with Kelly and Jennifer. Why?”
“I got an iPod pico for each of them. I guess we can pass them out after we get home and charge ’em and get some music on ’em. We also got a bunch of other stuff — a Wii for the kids, another Playstation for everyone else, some games and controllers, that kind of stuff.”
“Quite a load,” Tina said. “We probably could have found all that in Laurel.”
“Maybe. But at least we know we’ve got the stuff now. Like Sondra said, there’ll be plenty of time for used stuff.”
continued…
Cleve reluctantly agreed to let the group split up. Tim took some riders to his shop to get the Kidd Haulers, while Jason and Ben rode to the nearby Borders to grab any gardening books and field guides in stock. Cody and Sondra went to Breakbeat Music, across from the food court — and Caitlin Cooper, the girl who had sat with Cody, insisted on coming with them. The chubby redhead — she could have been Tim’s daughter — clung to Cody’s hand along the way.
“Is she your girlfriend?” Caitlin asked him.
“Yeah,” Cody said. Caitlin looked at her feet as she walked for a moment, then looked at him again.
“Can a boy have two girlfriends?”
Cody goggled at Sondra, who stifled a laugh and turned away.
“Can I live with you guys?”
“Um… uh —” Cody stammered. “We only have one bedroom.”
“That’s okay. I can sleep in the living room.”
“We’re like a big family where we live,” Sondra said. “You might not live with us, but you’ll see us every day if you want to. Everyone spends the evenings in the clubhouse, we have supper together, then we’ve got games, a couple computers, and a DVD player. And there’s no trucks.”
“You have electricity? It went out here a long time ago.”
“We have two generators, and we siphon gas from the station around the corner. Cody was a lot of help getting it together.”
“Here we are,” Cody said. Breakbeat Music was dark, like everything else, but the last clerk hadn’t bothered to close the security gates before driving off. He turned on his flashlight. “Welcome to Breakbeat Music, how may I help you?”
Sondra and Caitlin both laughed. “Do you work here or something?” Caitlin asked.
“I did, before everyone drove off,” Cody said. “Wednesday was the last day I worked. They wanted me to come in on Thursday, but Mom’s car turned into you-know-what and I said I couldn’t get here. So what’s your favorite video game?”
“Super Mario Kart.”
“That’s a Wii game, we don’t… hey, no reason we can’t get a Wii too.” Cody pried his hand loose, ducked behind the counter, and came up with a key. “Lucky there’s so many TV sets around the complex, we don’t have to lug one of those all the way back home. Pick out some games you like, and some your friends will like, and we’ll bring a console and extra controllers along. Batteries, too.” He unlocked the glass and slid it aside.
“Cody?” Sondra said. “This is gonna add a bunch of weight to the load. Is this really worth it?”
“Sure — the kids can play the Wii, and the rest of us get the Playstation.”
“Maybe we ought to get another Playstation, then. I don’t think that thing got a minute of rest last night.”
“That can be arranged!” Cody unlocked another slider, thinking neither did we and grinning. “You ever play Barnstormer? It’s a racing game, but with old airplanes.”
“They have it? Get it for me! Pleeeease?” Sondra mock-whined, hands clasped, making Caitlin laugh. “I wanted to try that one, but I never got a chance.”
“They had a couple here on Wednesday. I doubt they sold out by Friday.” Cody opened a third door and played his flashlight along the shelves. “Yup, here it is!” Sondra cheered as he tossed the game on the counter; he reached down and picked up a Playstation. “And here’s our other console. Hey, I think we had a couple lefty controllers in stock, get one on me. And get a few of the other kind.” He shined his flashlight at a rack behind them. While Sondra looked at the accessories, Cody brought out several large bags.
“Can I get an iPod?” Caitlin asked. “I want a pink one, like that.” She pointed at the display.
“Sure,” Sondra said.
“Yeah,” Cody said, unlocking the display case. “You’d better go find some CDs you like, though. I think the Internet’s gone for good.”
Sondra helped Caitlin pick out some CDs while Cody got an iPod for each of the kids and loaded their haul into three bags. “Hm,” Cody said as they returned with a handful of jewel cases. “Probably around fifteen hundred bucks, including tax. They can take it out of my last paycheck. I’ll pay ’em back the other thirteen hundred later.” Caitlin took one of Cody’s hands before he could pick up the bags; he rolled his eyes and took one bag while Sondra took the other two.
“Hey,” Sondra said. “We need to get a jacket for Caitlin, don’t we?”
“Yeah. But we’ll be going through Sears, we’ll pick one up on the way out. Sweaters, too.” He paused a moment. “You know, I feel stupid for thinking about this just now: why didn’t we just pick jackets and sweaters out of the houses we’ve been cleaning out?”
“I guess it’s because everybody wants their own clothes. I know I didn’t really want to spend the rest of my life wearing clothes someone else left behind when they drove off. It’ll happen sooner or later, but there will be plenty of time for used stuff.”
“Yeah.”
“By the way: it was nice of you, offering Max your dad’s jacket like you did.”
Cody shrugged. “Well… it’s not like Dad’s going to be needing it.”
“Not just that. You know what I mean.”
“Yeah.” Cody looked down and let his hair cover his eyes. “But he’s accepted us. He apologized for being rude, and you set him straight about Philip. I don’t hold grudges… not anymore, anyway.” He flipped his hair back. “Let’s go.”
“Where did all the people go?” Caitlin asked, walking down the mall and clinging to Cody’s hand. “Did they die?”
“We don’t think so,” Sondra said. “We think they’re all driving around in those pickups.”
“Why don’t they stop?”
“Maybe they can’t,” Cody said. “But nobody knows for sure.”
Tina looked amused as the three emerged from Sears with their bundles. “You know… you guys could pass for a family.”
“It would be a… a very strange arrangement,” Cody said, looking embarrassed.
Sondra stepped over to Tina. “Caitlin wants to be his girlfriend too,” she whispered, making Tina laugh.
“Hey, he’s already got an older girlfriend,” Tina whispered back. “Why not a younger one too?”
Cody stepped forward, Caitlin in tow, as Tina and Sondra laughed together. “Hey… where’s the other kids?”
“They’re over there, with Kelly and Jennifer. Why?”
“I got an iPod pico for each of them. I guess we can pass them out after we get home and charge ’em and get some music on ’em. We also got a bunch of other stuff — a Wii for the kids, another Playstation for everyone else, some games and controllers, that kind of stuff.”
“Quite a load,” Tina said. “We probably could have found all that in Laurel.”
“Maybe. But at least we know we’ve got the stuff now. Like Sondra said, there’ll be plenty of time for used stuff.”
continued…
Monday, April 19, 2010 2 comments
White Pickups, Episode 31
Did I mention that this is going to be a long day, story-wise?
Contents
After a brief pause, everyone slipped behind clothes racks or shelves. “What was that?” Cody hissed.
“We’re gonna find out,” Cleve said. “Petro. Lucado. Let’s go.”
“What?” Cody yelped, grabbing Sondra’s arm as she stepped forward. “Sondra…”
“I’ll be fine, Cody,” Sondra said, kicking her shoes off. “I’ve been in a gunfight before. You trust me?”
He let go, reluctantly. “Yeah. But be careful, okay? I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t. Careful is how I survive.” She joined Tim and Cleve at the edge of the mall entrance, still walking a little funny. Cody picked up her shoes, tied the laces together, and draped them around his neck.
“Tim!” Sara whispered across a couple clothes racks. “Keep your head down, okay?” He grinned and nodded.
Cleve whispered to the others, and pointed down the mall at pillars and open store entrances where they could take cover. When Cleve was sure they understood, he turned to the others. “If you hear shots, everyone come a-runnin’,” he said. “Make lots of noise, yell, stomp, so it sounds like the Army’s rollin’ in, okay?” They all nodded. “Let’s go.”
The three of them darted down the mall, one by one. The other two covered as the third dashed to the next cover. The others watched them go; another clatter from farther down got the bravest squinting and peering for any sign.
“What’s down that way?” someone whispered.
“Just the rest of the mall,” Cody said. “Food court’s almost all the way on the other side. I’ll bet that’s where they’re going.”
Cleve, Sondra, and Tim disappeared into the gloom well before reaching the halfway mark. Skylights gave a little light here and there, but the mall looked dim and sinister. They continued down the mall, the last in line hustling (Sondra on tiptoe) past the others to the next available cover. Cleve pointed the way. Tim was about to dart out when the clattering noise came again; he froze and waited for Cleve to nod and point. It took them nearly ten minutes to reach the food court.
A crunching sound echoed from the food court. Cleve waved the others to him, then peered around the corner. He saw movement, and jumped out, gun in front of him. “Freeze! Police!”
Cleve’s yell and an answering shriek echoed down to Sears.
“Shit! Sondra!” Cody yelled, and jumped forward; Charles caught him just in time. “Let me go!” he snarled, trying to pull free.
“You’re not armed, idiot!” Max hissed, grabbing Cody’s free arm. “Besides, that wasn’t Sondra!”
Cody yanked once more, then stopped struggling and stared at Max. “You sure?”
Max nodded. “I’ve known her since March. I know what she sounds like.” He paused. “Someone’s coming. Probably Tim. Let’s see what happened.”
They stayed under cover until they could see Tim jogging their way. “Everything’s okay,” he said. “We need some help, though. Everybody come on. But Cleve said you don’t have to be noisy.” Tim wasn’t winded in the least; he turned around and jogged off before anyone could ask him what happened.
“Stay in groups of at least two or three,” Charles told the others. “Cody, why don’t you stay with Max and me?”
“Yeah, whatever. As long as you don’t slow me down.” Cody looked at the floor, hair covering his eyes.
“Fine. Let’s move.” They hustled down the mall, spreading out as the faster left the slower behind. Charles, Max, and Cody were one of the first to arrive at the food court, and stood confused for a moment. There were too many people…
“It’s safe,” Cleve said. “They say there’s nobody else in the mall.” The “they” were five children, all maybe age ten. Sondra sat with them, comforting them as best as she could while Cleve and Tim looked on. Cleve held Sondra’s pistol; the kids all looked scared, hungry, and a little sickly.
The others started murmuring: “Look at that.” “Why haven’t we seen any other kids?” “What did they eat?” “How did they not drive off with their parents?” “Have they been here all this time?” Cody edged toward Sondra and the kids; she whispered to the kids then nodded to him. He and Kelly walked over and sat down with them; a chubby red-haired girl wrapped herself around Cody and cried as he gave her an awkward hug. Sondra smirked and rolled her eyes.
“They need food and water,” Sondra told the others, putting her shoes on. “A little at a time, though. I guess they’ve been scavenging. Like us.”
“Quite a feat, if they lived for… what, close to two weeks?” Max said. “Then again, we did it. Why couldn’t they?”
Jennifer Lane collected an armload of water bottles and energy bars from the others and brought them over. She sank to her knees and handed water bottles to each child. “Drink it slow,” she told them, “or you might throw up. Just a little sip at a time, okay?” The kids nodded and opened their drinks as best as they could; Kelly and Cody had to help two of them. “Good. Now why don’t you tell us what happened.” Jennifer opened energy bars and passed them around.
The kids all talked over each other, and argued about some points, but they managed to tell the story between sips of water and nibbles at energy bars: School was closed Friday, so our moms took us to the theater to see Fish Story. It was the 1 o’clock show. They were supposed to come for us at 3 when the movie was over, but they never did. And the theater people were gone when we came out too. Some of the other kids went outside to see if they could find anybody, but the white trucks… they were everywhere. A couple of the moms who were at the movie took their kids and some of the others. They told us to come too, but we ran back inside when they got in the trucks. We ate popcorn and candy, and we slept in the theater. Nobody was there the next day, so we took the quarters out of the cash registers and played video games upstairs until the power went out. When there was no more candy, we came here. It was Ben’s idea. We don’t guess our parents are coming for us, are they?
“I guess we have to take them with us,” Kelly said. “We sure can’t leave ’em here. But how?”
“My bike store’s just up the street,” Tim said. “I have some seats and Kidd Haulers there — that’s like a cargo trailer, but set up to carry a child. These guys are probably a bit larger than the rated capacity, but they’ll hold up from here to home. They made tandems — to carry two kids — but I didn’t have any in stock.”
“Do you guys want to come home with us?” Sondra asked the kids.
continued…
Contents
After a brief pause, everyone slipped behind clothes racks or shelves. “What was that?” Cody hissed.
“We’re gonna find out,” Cleve said. “Petro. Lucado. Let’s go.”
“What?” Cody yelped, grabbing Sondra’s arm as she stepped forward. “Sondra…”
“I’ll be fine, Cody,” Sondra said, kicking her shoes off. “I’ve been in a gunfight before. You trust me?”
He let go, reluctantly. “Yeah. But be careful, okay? I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t. Careful is how I survive.” She joined Tim and Cleve at the edge of the mall entrance, still walking a little funny. Cody picked up her shoes, tied the laces together, and draped them around his neck.
“Tim!” Sara whispered across a couple clothes racks. “Keep your head down, okay?” He grinned and nodded.
Cleve whispered to the others, and pointed down the mall at pillars and open store entrances where they could take cover. When Cleve was sure they understood, he turned to the others. “If you hear shots, everyone come a-runnin’,” he said. “Make lots of noise, yell, stomp, so it sounds like the Army’s rollin’ in, okay?” They all nodded. “Let’s go.”
The three of them darted down the mall, one by one. The other two covered as the third dashed to the next cover. The others watched them go; another clatter from farther down got the bravest squinting and peering for any sign.
“What’s down that way?” someone whispered.
“Just the rest of the mall,” Cody said. “Food court’s almost all the way on the other side. I’ll bet that’s where they’re going.”
Cleve, Sondra, and Tim disappeared into the gloom well before reaching the halfway mark. Skylights gave a little light here and there, but the mall looked dim and sinister. They continued down the mall, the last in line hustling (Sondra on tiptoe) past the others to the next available cover. Cleve pointed the way. Tim was about to dart out when the clattering noise came again; he froze and waited for Cleve to nod and point. It took them nearly ten minutes to reach the food court.
A crunching sound echoed from the food court. Cleve waved the others to him, then peered around the corner. He saw movement, and jumped out, gun in front of him. “Freeze! Police!”
Cleve’s yell and an answering shriek echoed down to Sears.
“Shit! Sondra!” Cody yelled, and jumped forward; Charles caught him just in time. “Let me go!” he snarled, trying to pull free.
“You’re not armed, idiot!” Max hissed, grabbing Cody’s free arm. “Besides, that wasn’t Sondra!”
Cody yanked once more, then stopped struggling and stared at Max. “You sure?”
Max nodded. “I’ve known her since March. I know what she sounds like.” He paused. “Someone’s coming. Probably Tim. Let’s see what happened.”
They stayed under cover until they could see Tim jogging their way. “Everything’s okay,” he said. “We need some help, though. Everybody come on. But Cleve said you don’t have to be noisy.” Tim wasn’t winded in the least; he turned around and jogged off before anyone could ask him what happened.
“Stay in groups of at least two or three,” Charles told the others. “Cody, why don’t you stay with Max and me?”
“Yeah, whatever. As long as you don’t slow me down.” Cody looked at the floor, hair covering his eyes.
“Fine. Let’s move.” They hustled down the mall, spreading out as the faster left the slower behind. Charles, Max, and Cody were one of the first to arrive at the food court, and stood confused for a moment. There were too many people…
“It’s safe,” Cleve said. “They say there’s nobody else in the mall.” The “they” were five children, all maybe age ten. Sondra sat with them, comforting them as best as she could while Cleve and Tim looked on. Cleve held Sondra’s pistol; the kids all looked scared, hungry, and a little sickly.
The others started murmuring: “Look at that.” “Why haven’t we seen any other kids?” “What did they eat?” “How did they not drive off with their parents?” “Have they been here all this time?” Cody edged toward Sondra and the kids; she whispered to the kids then nodded to him. He and Kelly walked over and sat down with them; a chubby red-haired girl wrapped herself around Cody and cried as he gave her an awkward hug. Sondra smirked and rolled her eyes.
“They need food and water,” Sondra told the others, putting her shoes on. “A little at a time, though. I guess they’ve been scavenging. Like us.”
“Quite a feat, if they lived for… what, close to two weeks?” Max said. “Then again, we did it. Why couldn’t they?”
Jennifer Lane collected an armload of water bottles and energy bars from the others and brought them over. She sank to her knees and handed water bottles to each child. “Drink it slow,” she told them, “or you might throw up. Just a little sip at a time, okay?” The kids nodded and opened their drinks as best as they could; Kelly and Cody had to help two of them. “Good. Now why don’t you tell us what happened.” Jennifer opened energy bars and passed them around.
The kids all talked over each other, and argued about some points, but they managed to tell the story between sips of water and nibbles at energy bars: School was closed Friday, so our moms took us to the theater to see Fish Story. It was the 1 o’clock show. They were supposed to come for us at 3 when the movie was over, but they never did. And the theater people were gone when we came out too. Some of the other kids went outside to see if they could find anybody, but the white trucks… they were everywhere. A couple of the moms who were at the movie took their kids and some of the others. They told us to come too, but we ran back inside when they got in the trucks. We ate popcorn and candy, and we slept in the theater. Nobody was there the next day, so we took the quarters out of the cash registers and played video games upstairs until the power went out. When there was no more candy, we came here. It was Ben’s idea. We don’t guess our parents are coming for us, are they?
“I guess we have to take them with us,” Kelly said. “We sure can’t leave ’em here. But how?”
“My bike store’s just up the street,” Tim said. “I have some seats and Kidd Haulers there — that’s like a cargo trailer, but set up to carry a child. These guys are probably a bit larger than the rated capacity, but they’ll hold up from here to home. They made tandems — to carry two kids — but I didn’t have any in stock.”
“Do you guys want to come home with us?” Sondra asked the kids.
continued…
Wednesday, April 14, 2010 8 comments
White Pickups, Conversations: Cleve Isaacs
This is strange. I’m usually the one asking the questions.
Think of it as expanding your horizons a little, then.
Haha, I can deal with that! OK. I’m Cleve Issacs. Um… now what?
You’ve been around a lot. Army, police…
Yeah, and chief peon and CEO of C.I. Security.
That’s a little too brief. Let’s expand a bit.
Sure. I graduated from high school in 1999, as in “party like it’s.” I didn’t have any job prospects, and wasn’t really thinking much about college, so I joined the Army. I figured I could do a hitch or two, get some training, then get some college on Uncle Sam’s dime afterwards if I wanted.
Then 9/11 came along. I got sent to Afghanistan, re-up’ed, and got out in 2005. I was pretty well fed up with Army life by then, but I might have stayed on if they’d agreed to put me through MP training. By the middle of my second hitch, I know I wanted to be a cop when I got out. I figured having some MP experience would have given me a leg up. But it didn’t work out, so I walked. I got into police academy, graduated pretty close to the top, then came back home and joined the Atlanta force.
What about your family?
Not much to tell. I was part of a stereotypical urban black family: Dad was long gone, Mom on and off welfare and trying to raise three kids. One thing that broke the stereotype, though: she wasn’t having no excuses about us dropping out of school and “getting work.” My sister was a few years younger than me, and Mom made sure me and my brother watched out for her. Yeah, she had boyfriends, and she probably slept with at least some of them, but we chased off the creeps and users. So we all graduated from high school. My brother Carver was good with languages, and aced his Spanish classes all through school, and he ended up with a construction company because they needed someone who could tell the Mex— the work crews what to do. My sister ran off with some guy, and we all lost touch with her. She was about Sara’s age. I’m pretty sure they all drove off.
Why didn’t you?
Drive off? It just never occurred to me. My clients were dropping off the face of the earth, so I was really busy trying to keep an eye on everything — I guess I just didn’t have the time.
Then the looters came along.
Yeah. I was trying to tell everyone that we needed to watch for stuff like that — authority was pretty well gone by Friday afternoon, and the looters figured that out by Friday night. I was kinda surprised how many of my neighbors were armed, though — and that goes double for Sondra. It was touch and go for a while — I was pretty sure one of us were gonna get hurt, maybe even shoot each other — but then the looters got tired of getting shot at. I suggested we all move together onto one block, and that turned out to be a pretty good idea. We got lucky; I was organizing our defenses for another round of looters on Saturday afternoon when the bashers rolled up on their Harleys, so we were already outside, armed, and ready. It could have been a lot worse. As it was, that idiot Muldoon just walked out to them, hands out, peace and love dudes, and got hisself shot dead for his trouble. We all opened fire, and they ran for it. I shot the guy who killed Trey, and Lucado took down three more, one shot each — she shocked the hell out of me, lemme tell you.
What do you think happened?
No clue. This doesn’t really fit the standard investigative model — it had to be either God or the Devil who made all those trucks, and how do you go about arresting them?
Good point. What are you going to do now?
Keep harping about security, I guess. Everyone else — and I mean everyone — has let their guard down since we got up to Laurel. Even Tim. He’s a good guy, but half those bashers are still out there. Over half, if our friend Joseph rejoined ’em, but I don’t think he did. Even if they gave up and went back to their cave, there’s probably others just like ’em out there. Sure, there’s more of us, but we’re not as well-armed and we’re not out looking for trouble. We need to start looking for trouble, so it doesn’t just drop in and visit, you know?
Back to Episode 30…
Think of it as expanding your horizons a little, then.
Haha, I can deal with that! OK. I’m Cleve Issacs. Um… now what?
You’ve been around a lot. Army, police…
Yeah, and chief peon and CEO of C.I. Security.
That’s a little too brief. Let’s expand a bit.
Sure. I graduated from high school in 1999, as in “party like it’s.” I didn’t have any job prospects, and wasn’t really thinking much about college, so I joined the Army. I figured I could do a hitch or two, get some training, then get some college on Uncle Sam’s dime afterwards if I wanted.
Then 9/11 came along. I got sent to Afghanistan, re-up’ed, and got out in 2005. I was pretty well fed up with Army life by then, but I might have stayed on if they’d agreed to put me through MP training. By the middle of my second hitch, I know I wanted to be a cop when I got out. I figured having some MP experience would have given me a leg up. But it didn’t work out, so I walked. I got into police academy, graduated pretty close to the top, then came back home and joined the Atlanta force.
What about your family?
Not much to tell. I was part of a stereotypical urban black family: Dad was long gone, Mom on and off welfare and trying to raise three kids. One thing that broke the stereotype, though: she wasn’t having no excuses about us dropping out of school and “getting work.” My sister was a few years younger than me, and Mom made sure me and my brother watched out for her. Yeah, she had boyfriends, and she probably slept with at least some of them, but we chased off the creeps and users. So we all graduated from high school. My brother Carver was good with languages, and aced his Spanish classes all through school, and he ended up with a construction company because they needed someone who could tell the Mex— the work crews what to do. My sister ran off with some guy, and we all lost touch with her. She was about Sara’s age. I’m pretty sure they all drove off.
Why didn’t you?
Drive off? It just never occurred to me. My clients were dropping off the face of the earth, so I was really busy trying to keep an eye on everything — I guess I just didn’t have the time.
Then the looters came along.
Yeah. I was trying to tell everyone that we needed to watch for stuff like that — authority was pretty well gone by Friday afternoon, and the looters figured that out by Friday night. I was kinda surprised how many of my neighbors were armed, though — and that goes double for Sondra. It was touch and go for a while — I was pretty sure one of us were gonna get hurt, maybe even shoot each other — but then the looters got tired of getting shot at. I suggested we all move together onto one block, and that turned out to be a pretty good idea. We got lucky; I was organizing our defenses for another round of looters on Saturday afternoon when the bashers rolled up on their Harleys, so we were already outside, armed, and ready. It could have been a lot worse. As it was, that idiot Muldoon just walked out to them, hands out, peace and love dudes, and got hisself shot dead for his trouble. We all opened fire, and they ran for it. I shot the guy who killed Trey, and Lucado took down three more, one shot each — she shocked the hell out of me, lemme tell you.
What do you think happened?
No clue. This doesn’t really fit the standard investigative model — it had to be either God or the Devil who made all those trucks, and how do you go about arresting them?
Good point. What are you going to do now?
Keep harping about security, I guess. Everyone else — and I mean everyone — has let their guard down since we got up to Laurel. Even Tim. He’s a good guy, but half those bashers are still out there. Over half, if our friend Joseph rejoined ’em, but I don’t think he did. Even if they gave up and went back to their cave, there’s probably others just like ’em out there. Sure, there’s more of us, but we’re not as well-armed and we’re not out looking for trouble. We need to start looking for trouble, so it doesn’t just drop in and visit, you know?
Back to Episode 30…
Monday, April 12, 2010 2 comments
White Pickups, Episode 30
Contents
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Cody and Sondra were busy cuddling, giggling, stroking — starting another round of lovemaking to begin the day — when someone rapped at their door. They sat up, both looking annoyed; Cody slipped out of bed and grabbed the robe Sondra had been wearing the night before (one of his mom’s robes, and she’d had very little on underneath). “I got it.” He shrugged the robe on.
“Yeah,” she said. “I’ll get some clothes on, once you tear your eyes off my boobs.”
Cody blushed and ducked out the bedroom door, looking over his shoulder at Sondra then closing it behind him. Tim was waiting at the front door.
“Hey, you look good in pink,” Tim grinned. “You just getting up? We’re getting ready to loot the mall!”
“Aw crap, we… uh, overslept. You wanna come in?”
Tim stepped in and sniffed, which made Cody notice the musk of last night’s… housewarming party. He blushed again and ducked back into the bedroom, where Sondra was finishing dressing. “It’s Tim,” he said, grabbing some clothes. “I think we’re holding up the trip to the mall.”
“Dammit,” Sondra jumped up as Cody started dressing. “No time for coffee, then.”
“You want some coffee?” Tim asked as they emerged. He held a thermos. “I brought a little.”
“Oh God, Tim, you’re a lifesaver!” Sondra ducked into the kitchen, walking stiffly. “Let me grab a cup, and we can go.”
“You gonna be up to riding today?” Tim asked.
“What do you mean?” Sondra barked, stomping out of the kitchen, the coffee cup forgotten, glaring at Cody. Cody concentrated on his tennis shoes.
“Cody didn’t say anything,” Tim said, tapping his nose. “The nose knows.”
Sondra sniffed and blushed. “Jesus, it stinks. Why didn’t I notice it before?”
Now it was Tim’s turn to blush. “Don’t tell me I walked in on your first time!”
Sondra sighed. “First morning after, more like,” she said at last, dropping onto the love seat next to Cody and pulling on her socks and shoes, looking only at her feet. “Cody, can you go get my coffee cup? Now I really need it.”
Sally and the other older folks volunteered to “stay behind and hold down the fort.” They made up their shopping lists, and everyone else agreed to bring back what they needed. Sondra insisted on coming, but she kept as much weight as possible off her bike seat without making it obvious. To Cody’s surprise, he was a little sore himself. They opened the gate — and for the first time, a pickup waited in the dwindling shade of the oak trees lining the drive, whispering its invitation. Sondra shook her pale arm and cursed, everyone else ignored it as best as they could.
Nobody said anything, but they all rode past their turn and stopped on the I-85 overpass to watch the traffic. The parade of white pickups was now steady, almost regimented, on both sides of the freeway. “It doesn’t get any less weird, no matter how long you’ve seen it,” Johnny Latimer said.
“September 27th,” Ben Cho said for the benefit of his video camera, as he pointed it down the freeway. “Day 14, I guess, counting from Wednesday the 14th. We haven’t seen a motorized vehicle that wasn’t a white pickup since Day 4, the Saturday when we got attacked by the bashers, and those were motorcycles. You can see today that the trucks are getting more evenly spaced. Some get on and off the freeway, going who knows where, and that does throw off the pattern.” He panned to the off-ramp, following one of the pickups. It turned left and went by them on the overpass. “Thirty-two of us have gathered together in suburbia, in a gated community that the trucks have left behind. All of us, including three of the original residents and two other suburbanites, have moved into the townhouses. With shelter taken care of, our primary concerns are water, food, and fuel. But today, we’re going to Gwinnett Place to secure winter clothing and whatever else we can find that will help us get through the coming winter.” He pointed the camera down the line of bicycles, then turned it off. Tim signaled to get moving, and they turned around.
They took what Tina used to call “the back way” to the mall, south on Satellite Boulevard, approaching the mall from behind. It was a little longer than the direct route, but nobody wanted to ride the breakdown lane alongside the freeway. They crossed the parking lot, empty but for debris and a single pickup, to the Sears. The morning sun was on the other side of the mall, but it still lit up the first twenty feet or so past the entrance; except for the lack of lights, the store looked —
“Frozen in time,” Ben said, camcorder once again in hand. He turned on a light attached to the camera; it did a good job of lighting what he pointed the camera at. “There’s some merchandise on the floor, maybe from Friday evening ‘bargain hunters’ who probably drove off afterward, but nothing like what the surviving suburbanites said about some of the local grocery stores — perhaps because Sears doesn’t carry booze. We’re here for sweaters and jackets, and we hope to find some camp stoves and heaters.”
“Water filters, too,” Tim said.
“Rain barrels,” Cody said. “I’ll bet the one at my old place is full after all that rain. We could filter that water.”
“Or just use it for washing as-is,” Sondra said. “I’d like to heat it though… I could go for a hot shower.”
“Yeah,” Johnny said. “Couldn’t we all? But let’s go get us some warm stuff now. This place kind of creeps me out.”
They fanned out, skipping the end-of-summer sales racks for the fall fashions. There were a few heavier jackets on the racks, and everyone took turns trying out various sizes. There were more people than jackets in the end; they drew straws and both Sondra and Max lost.
Cody looked at his new jacket. “You know what?” he said. “I have a good winter jacket at the old house. Can I give this one to Sondra?”
“Sure,” said Max. “I doubt it would fit me, anyway.”
“Yeah — but I think Dad’s old coat will fit you. You want to try it when we get back?”
Max paused for a moment. “Sure. Thanks.”
“Suck-up,” Kelly said, but she was grinning. “I’ve got a winter coat, too. Who’s got the list for the stay-homes? Will this one fit Ms. Sally? It’s a medium.”
Charles consulted his list. “Women’s medium… yup, let’s take it along.”
“Sweaters are over this way,” Tim said. “Let’s go.”
The sweaters were on the other side of the mall entrance. As they crossed, they heard a clatter from down the mall and froze.
continued… (Episode 31)
Conversations: Cleve Isaacs
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Cody and Sondra were busy cuddling, giggling, stroking — starting another round of lovemaking to begin the day — when someone rapped at their door. They sat up, both looking annoyed; Cody slipped out of bed and grabbed the robe Sondra had been wearing the night before (one of his mom’s robes, and she’d had very little on underneath). “I got it.” He shrugged the robe on.
“Yeah,” she said. “I’ll get some clothes on, once you tear your eyes off my boobs.”
Cody blushed and ducked out the bedroom door, looking over his shoulder at Sondra then closing it behind him. Tim was waiting at the front door.
“Hey, you look good in pink,” Tim grinned. “You just getting up? We’re getting ready to loot the mall!”
“Aw crap, we… uh, overslept. You wanna come in?”
Tim stepped in and sniffed, which made Cody notice the musk of last night’s… housewarming party. He blushed again and ducked back into the bedroom, where Sondra was finishing dressing. “It’s Tim,” he said, grabbing some clothes. “I think we’re holding up the trip to the mall.”
“Dammit,” Sondra jumped up as Cody started dressing. “No time for coffee, then.”
“You want some coffee?” Tim asked as they emerged. He held a thermos. “I brought a little.”
“Oh God, Tim, you’re a lifesaver!” Sondra ducked into the kitchen, walking stiffly. “Let me grab a cup, and we can go.”
“You gonna be up to riding today?” Tim asked.
“What do you mean?” Sondra barked, stomping out of the kitchen, the coffee cup forgotten, glaring at Cody. Cody concentrated on his tennis shoes.
“Cody didn’t say anything,” Tim said, tapping his nose. “The nose knows.”
Sondra sniffed and blushed. “Jesus, it stinks. Why didn’t I notice it before?”
Now it was Tim’s turn to blush. “Don’t tell me I walked in on your first time!”
Sondra sighed. “First morning after, more like,” she said at last, dropping onto the love seat next to Cody and pulling on her socks and shoes, looking only at her feet. “Cody, can you go get my coffee cup? Now I really need it.”
Sally and the other older folks volunteered to “stay behind and hold down the fort.” They made up their shopping lists, and everyone else agreed to bring back what they needed. Sondra insisted on coming, but she kept as much weight as possible off her bike seat without making it obvious. To Cody’s surprise, he was a little sore himself. They opened the gate — and for the first time, a pickup waited in the dwindling shade of the oak trees lining the drive, whispering its invitation. Sondra shook her pale arm and cursed, everyone else ignored it as best as they could.
Nobody said anything, but they all rode past their turn and stopped on the I-85 overpass to watch the traffic. The parade of white pickups was now steady, almost regimented, on both sides of the freeway. “It doesn’t get any less weird, no matter how long you’ve seen it,” Johnny Latimer said.
“September 27th,” Ben Cho said for the benefit of his video camera, as he pointed it down the freeway. “Day 14, I guess, counting from Wednesday the 14th. We haven’t seen a motorized vehicle that wasn’t a white pickup since Day 4, the Saturday when we got attacked by the bashers, and those were motorcycles. You can see today that the trucks are getting more evenly spaced. Some get on and off the freeway, going who knows where, and that does throw off the pattern.” He panned to the off-ramp, following one of the pickups. It turned left and went by them on the overpass. “Thirty-two of us have gathered together in suburbia, in a gated community that the trucks have left behind. All of us, including three of the original residents and two other suburbanites, have moved into the townhouses. With shelter taken care of, our primary concerns are water, food, and fuel. But today, we’re going to Gwinnett Place to secure winter clothing and whatever else we can find that will help us get through the coming winter.” He pointed the camera down the line of bicycles, then turned it off. Tim signaled to get moving, and they turned around.
They took what Tina used to call “the back way” to the mall, south on Satellite Boulevard, approaching the mall from behind. It was a little longer than the direct route, but nobody wanted to ride the breakdown lane alongside the freeway. They crossed the parking lot, empty but for debris and a single pickup, to the Sears. The morning sun was on the other side of the mall, but it still lit up the first twenty feet or so past the entrance; except for the lack of lights, the store looked —
“Frozen in time,” Ben said, camcorder once again in hand. He turned on a light attached to the camera; it did a good job of lighting what he pointed the camera at. “There’s some merchandise on the floor, maybe from Friday evening ‘bargain hunters’ who probably drove off afterward, but nothing like what the surviving suburbanites said about some of the local grocery stores — perhaps because Sears doesn’t carry booze. We’re here for sweaters and jackets, and we hope to find some camp stoves and heaters.”
“Water filters, too,” Tim said.
“Rain barrels,” Cody said. “I’ll bet the one at my old place is full after all that rain. We could filter that water.”
“Or just use it for washing as-is,” Sondra said. “I’d like to heat it though… I could go for a hot shower.”
“Yeah,” Johnny said. “Couldn’t we all? But let’s go get us some warm stuff now. This place kind of creeps me out.”
They fanned out, skipping the end-of-summer sales racks for the fall fashions. There were a few heavier jackets on the racks, and everyone took turns trying out various sizes. There were more people than jackets in the end; they drew straws and both Sondra and Max lost.
Cody looked at his new jacket. “You know what?” he said. “I have a good winter jacket at the old house. Can I give this one to Sondra?”
“Sure,” said Max. “I doubt it would fit me, anyway.”
“Yeah — but I think Dad’s old coat will fit you. You want to try it when we get back?”
Max paused for a moment. “Sure. Thanks.”
“Suck-up,” Kelly said, but she was grinning. “I’ve got a winter coat, too. Who’s got the list for the stay-homes? Will this one fit Ms. Sally? It’s a medium.”
Charles consulted his list. “Women’s medium… yup, let’s take it along.”
“Sweaters are over this way,” Tim said. “Let’s go.”
The sweaters were on the other side of the mall entrance. As they crossed, they heard a clatter from down the mall and froze.
continued… (Episode 31)
Conversations: Cleve Isaacs
Monday, April 05, 2010 2 comments
White Pickups, Episode 29
Contents
Monday, September 26, 2011
Shady sat at the top of the stairs as Cody mounted the steps. He mewed a greeting; his glowing eyes reflected Cody’s flashlight.
“Hey, cat,” Cody said, leaning forward to scratch the kitten’s head. Shady responded by grabbing Cody’s hand and wrapping his back legs around Cody’s wrist. Cody grinned and picked him up as Shady gently chewed on his fingers and purred. Cody thought for a moment: Tina and Kelly were in… “oh yeah, two in #202.” He walked past his own unit, #207, and tapped on Tina’s door.
“Cody, what —” Tina began — “oh, there he is!” She looked over her shoulder. “Kelly! Cody has your kitten!”
Kelly ran to the front door, looking relieved. “Whew! He bolted out the door when we came in this evening — where did you find him?”
“He was at the top of the steps,” Cody said, stretching his arm toward Kelly. She unwrapped a reluctant Shady, who mewed in protest and swatted at her as she took possession.
“Huh,” Tina smiled. “He likes you.”
“We understand each other,” Cody grinned. “Hey, I gotta get back. I ran a bit late this evening. Bye.”
Sondra was cocooned in a robe and blanket against the damp chill, reading on the love seat by candlelight and flashlight. One of the candles was scented, something that smelled like cinnamon, and it helped with the last of the refrigerator smell. They got their first choice of townhouse — an upstairs, one-bedroom unit directly across from the clubhouse, and Sondra loved the furnishings — but Saturday and Sunday brought steady rain, the first since the Truckalypse, and they had to wait for drier weather to move their belongings. Cody offered to set up his Playstation in the clubhouse, for everyone to use, and the offer was well-received.
“What did you do, play through an entire game?” she asked.
“Well, I had to test it!” he laughed. “No, we had it in the big Laurel Room, but there were card games going on, and people talking, and the game was making too much noise. I guess we should have thought of that earlier. We had to carry it all downstairs, clean out one of the rooms, run extension cords to the gennie, all that. It didn’t take as long as it could’ve — there were people lining up to play and everyone was like ‘what can we do to get this done?’. We can go by Breakbeat tomorrow to clean out the game rack when we’re at the mall. I guess we’ll rip up some carpet out of one of the houses for the floor, it’s cold in there. Then Kelly’s cat was on the steps coming up, so I took him home.”
“That was nice. So did we forget anything at the house?”
“Nah… nothing we need right away. We got the food, the Playstation, music, Dad’s laptop, and the books. If we decide we need anything else, we can always go back for it.”
“Good.”
“Can I ask you something?” Cody said.
“Sure.”
“Why were you so pissed about not being able to move on Saturday? This is nice, but we had everything we needed at my place.”
Sondra put her book down and stood, wrapping herself and the blanket around Cody. “That’s just it. It was your place. It was at the back of the subdivision, away from everyone else, but that didn’t bother me so much. But I wanted it to be our place, and I just couldn’t make it happen. Now we’re in our place.”
“I can see that,” Cody said, stroking her back. “I just wish I saw it before. I guess I was just so happy, having you with me, that I didn’t notice you weren’t… I’m not sure what the word is. But now — our place.” He tested the words, said them again.
“It was a place I was staying,” Sondra said, “because you were there. Here, I’ll be living. We’ll be living.” She kissed him.
“What’s important is that you’re with me. I — I love you.” He shook his head. “Why is that so hard to say?”
“I know you do, but it helps to hear you say it. I love you too, Cody. You’ve been hurt before, haven’t you?”
“Yeah, a few years ago. She wanted to change me, make me wear different clothes, cut my hair, and I let her. And then she laughed at me. I swore I’d rather be alone forever than let that happen again. But I think I was in love the minute I saw you.”
Sondra hugged him tighter. “You don’t have to worry about that now. I love you the way you are. You’ve been so helpful, so giving. Lots of people get so cynical when they get hurt, and don’t want to help anyone.”
“I was like that,” Cody admitted. “But then the trucks came and Kelly and Tina were the only people left here besides me. They didn’t know how to be self-sufficient, but Tina was trying. They weren’t rude, they needed help, and what was I going to do with stuff they needed and I didn’t? Just hang onto it? Besides, it’s too easy to be alone now. All you have to do is walk down the street.”
“Yeah.” She grinned. “Wow, I didn’t mean for us to have such a serious discussion tonight! I want to celebrate. C'mon, we’re gonna have a housewarming party.” She led him to the dining nook off the kitchen, where a bottle of wine and two glasses waited on the table.
“Housewarming? I should have brought some firewood, then.” They laughed; Sondra filled their glasses and they clinked them.
“I can’t think of a toast,” Cody said. “I haven’t had a lot of practice.”
“That’s okay,” Sondra said. “To our place. To our love. To the new world we’ll help make.”
“Together,” Cody said. “I’ll drink to that… ahh. That’s where the warming comes from.”
After they finished their first glass, Sondra wrapped the blanket and her arms around Cody again. “Some of the warming, anyway. Now you can open your present.”
“But I didn’t get you anything.”
Sondra fished a foil packet out of her pocket and pressed it into his hand. “It’s more like what we’re giving each other,” she whispered.
Cody’s eyes grew wide. “Uhh —”
“It’s time. I think so, anyway. What about you?”
“I — I’ve been ready all along. But yeah, this is the right time.” He hugged her tight. “Now?”
“In a minute. Let’s drink another toast first. Then we’ll go to the bedroom and you can unwrap your present. And I’ll unwrap mine.”
“I hope… I hope it works for us both.” Cody shivered, not from the chill.
“It’s our first time. Let’s take it easy and not expect a lot right away. We’ll practice.” She laughed.
As it turned out, third time was the charm. And fourth time. They were both worn out by the fifth time, and drifted off to sleep in the middle of things, wrapped around each other. Their house was quite warm by then.
continued…
Monday, September 26, 2011
Shady sat at the top of the stairs as Cody mounted the steps. He mewed a greeting; his glowing eyes reflected Cody’s flashlight.
“Hey, cat,” Cody said, leaning forward to scratch the kitten’s head. Shady responded by grabbing Cody’s hand and wrapping his back legs around Cody’s wrist. Cody grinned and picked him up as Shady gently chewed on his fingers and purred. Cody thought for a moment: Tina and Kelly were in… “oh yeah, two in #202.” He walked past his own unit, #207, and tapped on Tina’s door.
“Cody, what —” Tina began — “oh, there he is!” She looked over her shoulder. “Kelly! Cody has your kitten!”
Kelly ran to the front door, looking relieved. “Whew! He bolted out the door when we came in this evening — where did you find him?”
“He was at the top of the steps,” Cody said, stretching his arm toward Kelly. She unwrapped a reluctant Shady, who mewed in protest and swatted at her as she took possession.
“Huh,” Tina smiled. “He likes you.”
“We understand each other,” Cody grinned. “Hey, I gotta get back. I ran a bit late this evening. Bye.”
Sondra was cocooned in a robe and blanket against the damp chill, reading on the love seat by candlelight and flashlight. One of the candles was scented, something that smelled like cinnamon, and it helped with the last of the refrigerator smell. They got their first choice of townhouse — an upstairs, one-bedroom unit directly across from the clubhouse, and Sondra loved the furnishings — but Saturday and Sunday brought steady rain, the first since the Truckalypse, and they had to wait for drier weather to move their belongings. Cody offered to set up his Playstation in the clubhouse, for everyone to use, and the offer was well-received.
“What did you do, play through an entire game?” she asked.
“Well, I had to test it!” he laughed. “No, we had it in the big Laurel Room, but there were card games going on, and people talking, and the game was making too much noise. I guess we should have thought of that earlier. We had to carry it all downstairs, clean out one of the rooms, run extension cords to the gennie, all that. It didn’t take as long as it could’ve — there were people lining up to play and everyone was like ‘what can we do to get this done?’. We can go by Breakbeat tomorrow to clean out the game rack when we’re at the mall. I guess we’ll rip up some carpet out of one of the houses for the floor, it’s cold in there. Then Kelly’s cat was on the steps coming up, so I took him home.”
“That was nice. So did we forget anything at the house?”
“Nah… nothing we need right away. We got the food, the Playstation, music, Dad’s laptop, and the books. If we decide we need anything else, we can always go back for it.”
“Good.”
“Can I ask you something?” Cody said.
“Sure.”
“Why were you so pissed about not being able to move on Saturday? This is nice, but we had everything we needed at my place.”
Sondra put her book down and stood, wrapping herself and the blanket around Cody. “That’s just it. It was your place. It was at the back of the subdivision, away from everyone else, but that didn’t bother me so much. But I wanted it to be our place, and I just couldn’t make it happen. Now we’re in our place.”
“I can see that,” Cody said, stroking her back. “I just wish I saw it before. I guess I was just so happy, having you with me, that I didn’t notice you weren’t… I’m not sure what the word is. But now — our place.” He tested the words, said them again.
“It was a place I was staying,” Sondra said, “because you were there. Here, I’ll be living. We’ll be living.” She kissed him.
“What’s important is that you’re with me. I — I love you.” He shook his head. “Why is that so hard to say?”
“I know you do, but it helps to hear you say it. I love you too, Cody. You’ve been hurt before, haven’t you?”
“Yeah, a few years ago. She wanted to change me, make me wear different clothes, cut my hair, and I let her. And then she laughed at me. I swore I’d rather be alone forever than let that happen again. But I think I was in love the minute I saw you.”
Sondra hugged him tighter. “You don’t have to worry about that now. I love you the way you are. You’ve been so helpful, so giving. Lots of people get so cynical when they get hurt, and don’t want to help anyone.”
“I was like that,” Cody admitted. “But then the trucks came and Kelly and Tina were the only people left here besides me. They didn’t know how to be self-sufficient, but Tina was trying. They weren’t rude, they needed help, and what was I going to do with stuff they needed and I didn’t? Just hang onto it? Besides, it’s too easy to be alone now. All you have to do is walk down the street.”
“Yeah.” She grinned. “Wow, I didn’t mean for us to have such a serious discussion tonight! I want to celebrate. C'mon, we’re gonna have a housewarming party.” She led him to the dining nook off the kitchen, where a bottle of wine and two glasses waited on the table.
“Housewarming? I should have brought some firewood, then.” They laughed; Sondra filled their glasses and they clinked them.
“I can’t think of a toast,” Cody said. “I haven’t had a lot of practice.”
“That’s okay,” Sondra said. “To our place. To our love. To the new world we’ll help make.”
“Together,” Cody said. “I’ll drink to that… ahh. That’s where the warming comes from.”
After they finished their first glass, Sondra wrapped the blanket and her arms around Cody again. “Some of the warming, anyway. Now you can open your present.”
“But I didn’t get you anything.”
Sondra fished a foil packet out of her pocket and pressed it into his hand. “It’s more like what we’re giving each other,” she whispered.
Cody’s eyes grew wide. “Uhh —”
“It’s time. I think so, anyway. What about you?”
“I — I’ve been ready all along. But yeah, this is the right time.” He hugged her tight. “Now?”
“In a minute. Let’s drink another toast first. Then we’ll go to the bedroom and you can unwrap your present. And I’ll unwrap mine.”
“I hope… I hope it works for us both.” Cody shivered, not from the chill.
“It’s our first time. Let’s take it easy and not expect a lot right away. We’ll practice.” She laughed.
As it turned out, third time was the charm. And fourth time. They were both worn out by the fifth time, and drifted off to sleep in the middle of things, wrapped around each other. Their house was quite warm by then.
continued…
Tuesday, March 30, 2010 5 comments
White Pickups, Episode 28b
Contents
continued from yesterday…
The man on the overpass watched them approach, concerned neither with the rain nor the guns pointed his way. As they drew nearer, they could see him better: tall, grey, almost gaunt, dressed in a suit with something tucked under his arm. As they reached the on-ramp, he spoke: “If you truly be men, bid me come down.”
“Come down then!” Frank called back, and the other turned to the on-ramp.
He was slow; the drizzle started again and all but Frank were fidgeting by the time he stood before them. What he was carrying appeared to be a gigantic old Bible. “Peace be unto you,” he said. His mouth was twisted, turned down on one side in a perpetual scowl, marring an otherwise noble-looking face. Every strand of his grey hair was in place, slicked back against his head. The rain beaded on it and ran down.
“You too,” Frank replied. “But let’s get outta this rain right now.” They moved quickly to get under the overpass; now that the old man was with them, he seemed to have no problem keeping up.
“You got a name?” one of the Bobs asked.
“Of course. I am Reverend Carlton Worleigh,” the old man said.
“Hey,” Ray-Ban took off his shades to peer at him. “Aren’t you that guy my dad used to listen to on the radio?”
“Verily,” Worleigh said, looking pleased that he’d been recognized. “I was faithful to preach the Word of God —” he pronounced it Gowd-a, lifting the improbably large Bible — “a generation ago, to those who had an ear to hear. As Satan cannot stand to hear the true Word of Gowd-a, he so lifted up those of his worshippers whose religion they are pleased to call multiculturalism. They in turn did the devil’s dirty work, speaking all manner of lies and gossip against The Lord’s servant until I was banished from the airwaves. Yet have I continued my ministry, out of sight of those who would do all the Lord’s servants harm, unto this very day.
“Of course, I speak freely among you, for I perceive you are friends of Gowd-a. You have been doing His work in this modern-day Gomorrah, have you not?”
“Yeah,” said Jared, scuffing a tennis shoe on the pavement. “Not that it turned out so well.”
“You failed in your purpose, as did the disobedient Jews after Gowd-a doomed them to wander in the wilderness, for you put your trust in your worldly weapons and not the sword of his Word-a.”
“In Remington we trust,” Ray-Ban grinned, patting the barrel of his shotgun.
“Verily, that is the attitude that defeated you. You use the righteous tools that Gowd-a has given unto you. But instead of putting your trust in the tool, put your trust in the Maker of all things! Do not raise up the made thing to be your Gowd-a! For thus you worship a false idol, and cut yourself off from the power of the Lord-a!
“But lo, I tell you a mystery: the sodomite and the nigra hath fled this place. They have received a warning from their dark master, for I saw them on bicycles, fleeing north as if the agents of Hell were fast on their heels! And yet, they shared the highway with those selfsame agents —” he pointed at a line of pickups gliding by — “in which the damned souls of this world even now are being tortured in their own rolling Hells-a! The Lord has verily brought His rapture to bear, but He instead chose to take up the billions of unrepentant sinners and allow them to witness the Tribulation from the so-called freedom of the highway!
“But some Gowd-a chose to leave behind, righteous and unrighteous alike, that they might personally witness His mighty hand at work. For verily the seven years of tribulation, spoken of in His holy word-a, have begun. The evildoers have fled Gomorrah, but do not think that in so doing they shall escape the judgement! For Gowd-a has tested you, and found you wanting — but without His power, are we not all to be found wanting? You were laid low by the work of your own hand — are you now ready to be lifted up to bear witness to the work of the hand of the Lord?”
All of them nodded or grunted, Steve even cheered. “Then return to your homes. Keep the commandments of Gowd-a, and keep the calendar. On the first day of the new year, I shall meet you at this very place, Lord willing. Then you shall be anointed to move in the power of Gowd-a, and be victorious in Him. The sins of the evildoers will surely find them out, and the righteous shall inherit the Earth to build His new Jerusalem! Go now, to your homes, and await the appointed time.”
continued…
continued from yesterday…
The man on the overpass watched them approach, concerned neither with the rain nor the guns pointed his way. As they drew nearer, they could see him better: tall, grey, almost gaunt, dressed in a suit with something tucked under his arm. As they reached the on-ramp, he spoke: “If you truly be men, bid me come down.”
“Come down then!” Frank called back, and the other turned to the on-ramp.
He was slow; the drizzle started again and all but Frank were fidgeting by the time he stood before them. What he was carrying appeared to be a gigantic old Bible. “Peace be unto you,” he said. His mouth was twisted, turned down on one side in a perpetual scowl, marring an otherwise noble-looking face. Every strand of his grey hair was in place, slicked back against his head. The rain beaded on it and ran down.
“You too,” Frank replied. “But let’s get outta this rain right now.” They moved quickly to get under the overpass; now that the old man was with them, he seemed to have no problem keeping up.
“You got a name?” one of the Bobs asked.
“Of course. I am Reverend Carlton Worleigh,” the old man said.
“Hey,” Ray-Ban took off his shades to peer at him. “Aren’t you that guy my dad used to listen to on the radio?”
“Verily,” Worleigh said, looking pleased that he’d been recognized. “I was faithful to preach the Word of God —” he pronounced it Gowd-a, lifting the improbably large Bible — “a generation ago, to those who had an ear to hear. As Satan cannot stand to hear the true Word of Gowd-a, he so lifted up those of his worshippers whose religion they are pleased to call multiculturalism. They in turn did the devil’s dirty work, speaking all manner of lies and gossip against The Lord’s servant until I was banished from the airwaves. Yet have I continued my ministry, out of sight of those who would do all the Lord’s servants harm, unto this very day.
“Of course, I speak freely among you, for I perceive you are friends of Gowd-a. You have been doing His work in this modern-day Gomorrah, have you not?”
“Yeah,” said Jared, scuffing a tennis shoe on the pavement. “Not that it turned out so well.”
“You failed in your purpose, as did the disobedient Jews after Gowd-a doomed them to wander in the wilderness, for you put your trust in your worldly weapons and not the sword of his Word-a.”
“In Remington we trust,” Ray-Ban grinned, patting the barrel of his shotgun.
“Verily, that is the attitude that defeated you. You use the righteous tools that Gowd-a has given unto you. But instead of putting your trust in the tool, put your trust in the Maker of all things! Do not raise up the made thing to be your Gowd-a! For thus you worship a false idol, and cut yourself off from the power of the Lord-a!
“But lo, I tell you a mystery: the sodomite and the nigra hath fled this place. They have received a warning from their dark master, for I saw them on bicycles, fleeing north as if the agents of Hell were fast on their heels! And yet, they shared the highway with those selfsame agents —” he pointed at a line of pickups gliding by — “in which the damned souls of this world even now are being tortured in their own rolling Hells-a! The Lord has verily brought His rapture to bear, but He instead chose to take up the billions of unrepentant sinners and allow them to witness the Tribulation from the so-called freedom of the highway!
“But some Gowd-a chose to leave behind, righteous and unrighteous alike, that they might personally witness His mighty hand at work. For verily the seven years of tribulation, spoken of in His holy word-a, have begun. The evildoers have fled Gomorrah, but do not think that in so doing they shall escape the judgement! For Gowd-a has tested you, and found you wanting — but without His power, are we not all to be found wanting? You were laid low by the work of your own hand — are you now ready to be lifted up to bear witness to the work of the hand of the Lord?”
All of them nodded or grunted, Steve even cheered. “Then return to your homes. Keep the commandments of Gowd-a, and keep the calendar. On the first day of the new year, I shall meet you at this very place, Lord willing. Then you shall be anointed to move in the power of Gowd-a, and be victorious in Him. The sins of the evildoers will surely find them out, and the righteous shall inherit the Earth to build His new Jerusalem! Go now, to your homes, and await the appointed time.”
continued…
Monday, March 29, 2010 1 comment
White Pickups, Episode 28a
This one ran a little long, so I split it in two. The second half goes up tomorrow at 7.
Contents
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Six men played poker in a conference room at the Marriott Suites; a seventh watched the rain outside the window with a rifle slung across his back. Other firearms lay within easy reach of the poker players. All wore jackets against the chill that had worked its way inside several days ago.
“Jared. Hand me a beer,” the man at the window said, not looking back.
“You sure?” Jared looked up from his hand. He had a pair of sixes; he planned to go up big if he drew another six.
“If I wasn’t sure, I would’na asked, numbnuts.” He continued to watch the rain. “You gonna ask more stupid questions or what?”
Jared opened the cooler next to him and fished a Miller Lite out of the tepid water. “Geez Frank, you don’t have to get so pissy about it. We’re runnin’ low here. You were the one talkin’ about cuttin’ back until we went and got some more.”
“Whatever.” Frank looked back at the poker table; Jared tossed him the beer, letting it flip end over end in the air. “You asshole. I’m gonna open this over your head.”
Jared ignored him and addressed the table: “Y’all want one while I got my stinky feet in there?”
A chorus of assent; Jared sent cans around the table. “One left. I guess Joseph gets it when he comes back.”
“If he comes back,” Ray-Ban said. He’d perched the mirrored sunglasses that gave him his nickname on top of his head (where they wouldn’t reflect his hand to the others). “Retard. Shouldn’t have gone off ‘to reconnoiter’on his own.”
“Not like we did so well as a group,” one of the Bobs said over the pops and hisses of beer cans opening around the room. “J.D. shot the faggot that came out to talk, then that fat nigger shot J.D. and almost got me, that skinny queer with the ponytail took out Thurman, Jesse, and Sid: pop, pop, pop, one right after the other. Then W.L. and Charlie jump in the trucks. Six of us, gone in thirty seconds. What the fuck are we doing here, anyway? We oughtta either be goin’ home or goin’ up big.” He pushed most of his worthless cash, looted from nearby establishments, into the middle of the table. “Just like that. Go big or go home. I don’t care which, anymore.”
“What, and tell everyone the faggots chased us off?” Frank spat.
“Who says anyone’s gotta know? We took some losses, but we wiped out a big ol’ nest of gang-bangers,” Jared said. “We get our story straight right here in this room, and nobody will know different.” He looked at the ante. “Screw this. I fold. I’m ready to go home.” He stared at the others around the table.
“Me too,” said Ray-Ban, pushing his cards into the middle of the table. The other Bob did likewise.
“Chickenshit,” Frank opined, pointing his beer can at Jared and pulling the tab. It snapped, but made no other noise. “Ah, shit. It’s flat.”
“Nope,” Jared said. “I popped it before I tossed it!”
The others laughed. “You’re smarter than you look,” Frank said, tipping his can back. “Sometimes, anyway.”
“Yeah. So maybe this is the smart thing to do. Pack it up. This is just a frickin’ waste of time. And friends. I bet we don’t see Joseph again either. That makes seven. Half of us, just… gone.”
Ray-Ban pulled his glasses down. “That’s somethin’ to think about. If we couldn’t get the job done with fourteen, what makes you think we can do it with seven? Huh, Frank?”
“Fuck you,” Frank said, staring back out the window. After a long pause, “If the rest of y’all wanna go home, fine. I guess I’ll make sure you don’t get lost on the way. We can pack it up tomorrow.”
Sunday, September 25
The seven of them trudged west through intermittent rain to US41 then north, sticking to sidewalks where they could, ducking under awnings or storefronts when the rain got heavy, watching the pickups pass them by. All of them at one point or another thought how nice it would be to hitch a ride — which always seemed to happen where one of the trucks had stopped — but nobody wanted to take W.L. and Charlie’s way out.
The rain let up as they sighted the I-75 overpass. As they drew closer, Frank snarled, “Cover!” and ducked behind a parked pickup; the others scrambled to follow. Everyone tried to ignore the whispering: No more fear. No more fighting. No more hiding. Climb in. Why walk?
“What is it?” Ray-Ban hissed.
“Someone on the overpass,” Frank said. He detached the scope from his deer rifle and peered through it. “Doesn’t look armed,” he said. “Tough shot from this distance, and if he hasn’t seen us, he would before I could get closer.”
“Hey,” one of the Bobs said. “If there’s only one of him, and he ain’t armed, what are we all worried about? He might could help us, and if not, we can always shoot him.”
“If he ain’t armed, how could he help us?” Jared snapped. “But what the hell. He might have something up his sleeve, or he might just jump off the damn bridge. Either way, we can take him if he gives us any guff. As long as we don’t assume anything.”
“Works for me,” Frank said, surprising Jared. “Worst thing that happens, we all get killed. Still ain’t as bad as some things I can think of.” He glared at the pickup; its whispering grew quiet for a moment.
continued…
Contents
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Six men played poker in a conference room at the Marriott Suites; a seventh watched the rain outside the window with a rifle slung across his back. Other firearms lay within easy reach of the poker players. All wore jackets against the chill that had worked its way inside several days ago.
“Jared. Hand me a beer,” the man at the window said, not looking back.
“You sure?” Jared looked up from his hand. He had a pair of sixes; he planned to go up big if he drew another six.
“If I wasn’t sure, I would’na asked, numbnuts.” He continued to watch the rain. “You gonna ask more stupid questions or what?”
Jared opened the cooler next to him and fished a Miller Lite out of the tepid water. “Geez Frank, you don’t have to get so pissy about it. We’re runnin’ low here. You were the one talkin’ about cuttin’ back until we went and got some more.”
“Whatever.” Frank looked back at the poker table; Jared tossed him the beer, letting it flip end over end in the air. “You asshole. I’m gonna open this over your head.”
Jared ignored him and addressed the table: “Y’all want one while I got my stinky feet in there?”
A chorus of assent; Jared sent cans around the table. “One left. I guess Joseph gets it when he comes back.”
“If he comes back,” Ray-Ban said. He’d perched the mirrored sunglasses that gave him his nickname on top of his head (where they wouldn’t reflect his hand to the others). “Retard. Shouldn’t have gone off ‘to reconnoiter’on his own.”
“Not like we did so well as a group,” one of the Bobs said over the pops and hisses of beer cans opening around the room. “J.D. shot the faggot that came out to talk, then that fat nigger shot J.D. and almost got me, that skinny queer with the ponytail took out Thurman, Jesse, and Sid: pop, pop, pop, one right after the other. Then W.L. and Charlie jump in the trucks. Six of us, gone in thirty seconds. What the fuck are we doing here, anyway? We oughtta either be goin’ home or goin’ up big.” He pushed most of his worthless cash, looted from nearby establishments, into the middle of the table. “Just like that. Go big or go home. I don’t care which, anymore.”
“What, and tell everyone the faggots chased us off?” Frank spat.
“Who says anyone’s gotta know? We took some losses, but we wiped out a big ol’ nest of gang-bangers,” Jared said. “We get our story straight right here in this room, and nobody will know different.” He looked at the ante. “Screw this. I fold. I’m ready to go home.” He stared at the others around the table.
“Me too,” said Ray-Ban, pushing his cards into the middle of the table. The other Bob did likewise.
“Chickenshit,” Frank opined, pointing his beer can at Jared and pulling the tab. It snapped, but made no other noise. “Ah, shit. It’s flat.”
“Nope,” Jared said. “I popped it before I tossed it!”
The others laughed. “You’re smarter than you look,” Frank said, tipping his can back. “Sometimes, anyway.”
“Yeah. So maybe this is the smart thing to do. Pack it up. This is just a frickin’ waste of time. And friends. I bet we don’t see Joseph again either. That makes seven. Half of us, just… gone.”
Ray-Ban pulled his glasses down. “That’s somethin’ to think about. If we couldn’t get the job done with fourteen, what makes you think we can do it with seven? Huh, Frank?”
“Fuck you,” Frank said, staring back out the window. After a long pause, “If the rest of y’all wanna go home, fine. I guess I’ll make sure you don’t get lost on the way. We can pack it up tomorrow.”
Sunday, September 25
The seven of them trudged west through intermittent rain to US41 then north, sticking to sidewalks where they could, ducking under awnings or storefronts when the rain got heavy, watching the pickups pass them by. All of them at one point or another thought how nice it would be to hitch a ride — which always seemed to happen where one of the trucks had stopped — but nobody wanted to take W.L. and Charlie’s way out.
The rain let up as they sighted the I-75 overpass. As they drew closer, Frank snarled, “Cover!” and ducked behind a parked pickup; the others scrambled to follow. Everyone tried to ignore the whispering: No more fear. No more fighting. No more hiding. Climb in. Why walk?
“What is it?” Ray-Ban hissed.
“Someone on the overpass,” Frank said. He detached the scope from his deer rifle and peered through it. “Doesn’t look armed,” he said. “Tough shot from this distance, and if he hasn’t seen us, he would before I could get closer.”
“Hey,” one of the Bobs said. “If there’s only one of him, and he ain’t armed, what are we all worried about? He might could help us, and if not, we can always shoot him.”
“If he ain’t armed, how could he help us?” Jared snapped. “But what the hell. He might have something up his sleeve, or he might just jump off the damn bridge. Either way, we can take him if he gives us any guff. As long as we don’t assume anything.”
“Works for me,” Frank said, surprising Jared. “Worst thing that happens, we all get killed. Still ain’t as bad as some things I can think of.” He glared at the pickup; its whispering grew quiet for a moment.
continued…
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