Post by Admin on Mar 21, 2015 1:06:25 GMT
Picking up right after the small conversation with Leon Dawg and the Ryks Man.
I left Leon sitting at the table and headed to the stairs near the foyer. I climbed the old staircase slowly.
Sunlight was streaming in from my (and technically now Myra’s) open bedroom door that faced the setting sun. I passed the once again closed master bedroom, off limits to loitering for fear of week old plague. Ol’ Jay... I passed Leon’s room, whose door was firmly shut, the stolen rifle in there somewhere. I tried the door out of a hunch. It was locked. He was thinking ahead, just in case Myra really was a homicidal psychopath. He was locking away our other gun - good thinking Leon.
He really was getting strangely over protective and crazy careful. He was becoming far too removed from anyone besides me and him. To him, this girl was hopefully a ‘temporary thing.’ She was one more burden to take care of because of me. I didn’t like it at all.
With grim thoughts, I turned into the bedroom that Myra and I were sharing, at least for tonight. She was sitting by the window on the edge of my mattress, and she was looking through the new wood slats that had been replaced over the window earlier today. She was just looking at…nothing really. It was a setting sun. There were bombs in the distance again; they had started back up again in midafternoon. The smoke continued to pour out of the tilted skyscrapers and downtown area. Not exactly a beautiful view considering lives were being lost and homes being destroyed constantly. And Myra was just staring at it as if transfixed. She didn’t hear me come in.
“You can have my bed if you like the view so much,” I spoke up finally.
Her reaction was almost laughable, the way she whipped her head around and gasped voicelessly (weird sound) in surprise to my voice, as if I was an ambushing soldier. I didn’t even sneak up on her on purpose, but she quickly collected herself and then shook her head quietly. Then, turning away from me and the window, she headed back to her old mattress slowly.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” I apologized as I stepped over the scrabble board which still sat near the center of the room. She gave an ‘its fine’ expression (if I was reading her face right) as she fell onto the bed next to the door and I sat on my mattress. However, there wasn’t much of anything to do, and I wasn’t tired yet. Plus I had a few more unanswered questions I wanted to ask Myra.
“Hey, Myra,” I said off the bat, and her head immediately perked up from the bed to hear. “So…how long were you awake before you got up and tried to escape this morning? I mean, I know you didn’t just coincidentally wake up right as I left the room, and your trickery’s fine since you just wanted to escape from us and thought we were assholes…or maybe you still do…”
I trailed off as I saw her roll off the bed kind of lethargically (probably at the annoyance of the only way she could answer me) and piece together more letters on the floor. Slowly, her feedback formed.
The first thing she put out before she answered me was I HATE NOT BEING ABLE TO TALK. Then she cleared it away to make:
YES I WAS AWAKE FOR A WHILE BEFORE YOU LEFT. I THOUGHT I WAS BEING HELD CAPTIVE. I DIDNT WANT TO CHANCE IT
Clear. SO I WAITED TILL YOU LEFT. THEN I TRIED THE ONLY WAY I THOUGHT POSSIBLE. WINDOW.
“Right, and you would’ve gotten away with it if you hadn’t made so much noise. So you really don’t think we’re like other people, right? You’re willing to stay with us for a while longer?”
She left her eyes to the letters and kept answering. WHERE ELSE WOULD I GO? AND NO, I DONT THINK YOU ARE LIKE OTHERS.
“Thanks. Leon’s a bit harsh, I know, but he’s only being protective. He really is good,” I said for Leon’s sake, then I realized she had put something more on the board. This part confused me.
BUT WHY?
“But why what?”
More letters. BUT WHY AREN’T YOU LIKE THE OTHERS? I THOUGHT EVERYONE BUT I WAS (a pause because she could find the right word)
“An asshole,” I suggested for her. She looked back at me, offered the slightest smile possible, and nodded.
This was a different kind of question entirely, and I took a moment before answering. Why wasn’t I more of an asshole (for lack of a better term)? Why weren’t Leon and I part of a malicious gang or power hungry faction or a cannibal crowd?
“I guess…it doesn’t suit us. That just can’t be us. For some reason, instead of choosing to be with any group, we chose our own. And in an unreasonable way… we both think that if there’s ever going to be a US again, it would be up to us to…I don’t know, be the normal ones. We don’t want to be those people, even if it means an easier survival for us. Leon and I have each other to look after, and that alone makes us less assholey than half the city. We are…family.”
I was a bit sheepish after saying all that, but it seemed like Myra accepted it well. Woo, I passed the test of good citizenship.
There was silence as she put one more thing on the board: IM GLAD SOMEONE ELSE IS WORTHY OF LIVING.
The final clack of the letter G seemed to ring throughout the room indefinitely. For some reason, that group of letters plainly put out there (like the thank you from earlier) was unusually flattering in some way. Someone in this city thought I was worth my life – gosh, what a both dumb and meaningful concept. I was worthy of my own heartbeats!
“Well… you can’t imagine how weird it is to suddenly just have someone like you come along… You’re worth your life too, Myra,” I said back, honestly.
She smiled a bit more behind her long and stringy brown hair before that happy expression, too, was gone. What a moment. Time to move on.
“Well anyhow, there are extra clothes in the closet in case you wanted to know. They’re big and for men, but they’re pretty clean and were left by the old owner,” I said. Kind of awkward change in discussion so I hurried along. “Just in case if you wanted to dress for nighttime or something. It’s up to you. I mean, you can change in here and I’ll get out…or the bathroom across from this room is perfectly fine. Or…”
Fracking shut up…
Myra simply got up and went to the closet, which hung slightly ajar beside the head of the mattress. She peeked inside and picked up the baggy, plain white shirt and the brown flannel from within. Neither of them would fit either of us, but they had fit well on Uncle Jay who had kindly offered them to me when I first arrived here. But I mostly just wore my one ragged, normal sized outfit.
She checked with me again to see if it was all right, and she went off to the useless bathroom without tap water in the hall to change.
I laid my head back on my mattress’s sheet. I wasn’t used to talking like this; to new people. It had been so long since I’d talked to someone other than Leon and Uncle Jay and the rare neighbor who came around to barter with us. I’d figured that they were the only ones I’d ever have to talk to. Pretty depressing, but also one less worry - no more social and media crap. No more electricity. No more chatting. No more friends.
I let loose a loud yawn. It was late for me by now. Normally I tried to be asleep by the time the sun was going down so I could get a good night’s rest, and even then sometimes Leon and I would take naps the following day to be even more rested.
I was BEAT.
In fact, I could already feel sleep pulling at my eyes, dragging them down to shut out the sight of that gray, blank ceiling. The outside light was fading and my thoughts were along with it. Day one of the mute girl had taken a lot out of me.
Day two of Uncle Jay’s death, and already, this house was reminding me of him over and over again. I could envision him sitting in his old rocking chair, looking after us as best as he could do. At least he had been someone who was always with us. He was one more person to share the long, sad days with. I still didn’t want to dwell too much on his memory.
Everything would get better…I kept telling myself this…then I could mourn when I wouldn’t have to worry about keeping my life…
By the time Myra had returned (only a few minutes later) with a new flannel nightshirt that reached her knees, I was half asleep on my mattress, fully clothed. In my doziness, I sensed her become quiet and step softly back to her own bed.
I managed to mumble, “Good night.”
All I got in response was the sound of her patting her pillow down twice.
…At around 12:30, Leon shook me awake, and I took up watch. He left and then I was alone in the night silence (what could be called ‘silence’). Except I could hear Myra’s peaceful breathing in the background and the occasional outside boom. Out the window I saw distant flashes but nothing dangerously close. I listened hard. I checked the other side of the house every once in a while. Nothing happened.
At 4, I went over to Myra’s bed to wake her up. I paused before doing so, not because I was creepy (hopefully), but because it struck me how similar she looked now to how she looked yesterday morning, unconsciousness. I quickly snapped out of it and tapped her shoulder which caused her to wake up immediately. I whispered if she knew what to do and she nodded.
I went back to my safe mattress to try and get another few hours of dreamless sleep before morning was fully upon us. It took me a little while longer to fall asleep because of this weird feeling. I think it had to do with having someone I had known for only a day or two being awake in the same room while I slept. I turned onto my side, facing the wall with the window, and tried not to let Myra’s movements keep me awake.
Her movements eventually didn’t keep me from blissful shuteye because about 20 minutes later, I was fast asleep. I might’ve dreamt, but I didn’t remember them by morning.
When I woke up and turned back over, it was morning and I saw Myra crouching there by the window. She wasn’t looking at me or doing anything except rocking back and forth and looking out the window, but I flinched for some reason - I guess I still wasn’t adjusted to having someone right there and it surprised me.
She also gave a slight jump when I did and her eyes went to me and widened in what the heck?
“Sorry,” I muttered, sliding back down onto the pillow. Great start to the day. “Just not used to…uh…having company in here.”
She nodded and turned back to the window. I savored what warmth I had in my bed before I got up. “Anything happen last night?”
She shook her head without looking at me. Still looking out that window. What was it with her and watching sunrises and sunsets?
“Okay, well, I’m going to Leon’s room. Your shift is over if you’d like to come along,” I offered. “Some sort of breakfast will be made.”
She got up and followed me out of the room.
The second day began. Getting ready. Breakfast rations. Leon told us that more toilet trenches needed to be dug outside. So taking two shovels (only two in the garage), the three of us trooped into our sort of safe backyard. We stayed behind the safety of the high, once fancy fence and stuck together since it was technically the dangerous outside. The one place with grass we were able stand around in. Several meters from the patio, there was a dug out trench which was the go to place because the commode indoors was out of commission. That was what we were working on today – more room and depth to the ‘toilet’.
I followed Leon’s orders, and Myra gave no objections either. She did a good job of being dutiful.
We tried not to think too much on what we were doing, but it was still gross. There was some smell. We got to digging, but shortly after I started, Leon pulled me away to talk, leaving Myra to do the job solo for a second. Really? Was this a repeat of last night?
We were now standing near the dead garden, hearing distance away from Myra, so if he was aiming to talk about her, this was not the right place. But I realized he wasn’t going to talk about Myra or me. To my surprise, he reached into his holster, took out the glock, and after a quick hesitance, held out the weapon to me.
It took me a second to realize what he was doing. “Wait, you’re letting me…you’re going to…”
“Well c’mon. You needed to learn sometime, and thinking on it, now is probably better than too late,” He said, confirming my thoughts. “Step number one is hold the gun.”
“No way,” I breathed, taking the gun and examining it. I could see Myra peering over to see what the commotion was about. “I always thought you were way too stubborn to ever let me defend myself…” Seeing his expression at that, I hurried on. “Thanks.”
For the next 15 minutes or so, he taught me how to hold, aim, and fire the weapon using a thing called a trigger. He made me swear up and down that I wouldn’t shoot it around here, then we practiced flipping the safety on and off and so on and so forth. So basic knowledge, but that was enough for me.
Then I gave back the gun to Leon and returned back to the trenches to help Myra out some more. He was teaching me so soon. There was something up. There had to be a reason why.
“Leon…is there any reason why you showed me how to shoot so quick?” I asked after picking up the second shovel from the dirt.
“Just in case. Like what we discussed yesterday, I think sooner rather than later is good,” he said with a small smile for no apparent reason. “I’ll take over for you, Myra. Just stick close by,” Leon said back. He took the shovel from Myra and began to lengthen the trench with me. Myra silently walked a little ways away as we assumed our jobs.
Still. That couldn’t be Leon’s whole reason. That couldn’t be IT.
We continued in silence, scooping earth into a pile beside the trench. That way, between the fence and the mounds of dirt, there could be some small degree of privacy when you crapped. Of course, I preferred walls in a bathroom, but these troughs would get the ‘job done’ efficiently.
Then Leon spoke, this time without the bits and pieces of optimism or dry humor from before, “We, uh…we can’t stay here much longer.”
“So…that means…what do you mean?” I asked, confused. I scooped the current mound and threw it right back into the trench, not looking where I was supposed to.
“I mean…” he paused shoveling. “There’s not much more food. We don’t have any way of getting a reliable meal from now on.”
“Reliable meal? I know we’ve been robbed and everything, but that doesn’t mean we don’t still have the Robinsons or the Browns who trade with us,” I said, his words sinking in. Moving? Months into the war? Where? We have everything we possibly have left in this one house. We have neighbors that we barter with for resources. I thought we WERE steady. How could we leave?
“That’s actually the reason right there,” Leon replied. “Turns out they’ve all been gone since that night we were at the super market… I checked both the Browns and the Robinsons’ houses when I took out the bandit’s corpse. I stopped by their places after I put his body in an empty alley. I don’t know why, but they’re gone… The Browns are dead, I saw them, but the Robinsons disappeared entirely. All of their stuff is gone too. I just don’t know why.”
“They’re all gone? Raiders? A militia?” I said, barely keeping my voice in check. Our last possible source of friendly people. Last trading partners. Last resorts. Gone. I put my shovel on the ground with a thunk. “All at the same time?”
“I guess. Crazy raiders deciding to tear through every house the same night we leave to scavenge. But I’ve been thinking ever since. And the best thing I think to do is… You know what, we need Myra to hear all this, get her. Let’s stop digging for now and get to the kitchen.”
With that declaration, he let his shovel fall to the ground and walked back to the house without looking back. I slowly turned to look for Myra who was somewhere in the yard.
Spotting her crouched by a dead plant in the garden, I called out to her to come inside. Don’t ask me why she was looking at a long shriveled plant so intently. Myra looked up from her examination, and brushing a strand of hair out of her face, she got up and came inside with me.
A minute later, the three of us were at the kitchen table again, Leon explaining to Myra what he had briefly told me. I had brought the scrabble board downstairs, and there it sat on the table nearest to her.
“And I know this is really sudden, but there might not be another choice. I mean, we’re essentially the only ones for blocks around that aren’t part of some bigger group now. And that means we’re the last ones to pick off for the thugs out there. We don’t have a consistent food source anymore either,” Leon ran a hand through his cut short hair. “There’s not much of a choice.”
“This sounds really risky just going out there. Where would we go? No good way out of the city. No place out there we can call home. How is leaving this house any better than staying put?” I said.
Myra didn’t put anything on the board. She listened.
“Of course that would be stupid if we left this house with nowhere to go. The only reason we’ve made it this far is because of these walls. But they can only protect us so far. And there may be another way to survive. Another place, safer,” Leon answered. “With possible food and shelter and…people.”
“People? Not raiders? Not cannibals? Not factions? But people?” I asked, skeptical. This was starting to sound too good to be true. We had been living in this hell for a while now and if there was one thing we had learned, it was that we couldn’t trust about 99% of people in large groups. Large groups = not friendly. So I thought I was very right in leaning toward staying here.
“Now, I know this might or might not work out. In fact it could go terribly wrong. But I think that this guy won’t turn us down. And he’s not straight out evil…he’ll either agree to help us out or…he’ll help us out, I’m pretty sure,” Leon said.
“So who is this guy?” I asked when he paused. He was clearly refraining from saying this guy’s name or something.
Leon took his hand out of his hair and took another breath. “Well, we don’t have the most pristine history with him, but I’m sure we can get past all that when we show up at his church with the stuff he and his men need.”
Leon looked at me, letting me figure it out. Myra just looked confused.
“Who are you talking-“I started, but stopped. The only dangerous guy we had even had a history with before. The only guy who had a group stationed at a church. “Wait, you mean…”
“Yeah, I mean Krauser.”
Krauser - the only bad ass organization boss who shot away anyone who walked into his territory and still loved Jesus. A bad combination.
I left Leon sitting at the table and headed to the stairs near the foyer. I climbed the old staircase slowly.
Sunlight was streaming in from my (and technically now Myra’s) open bedroom door that faced the setting sun. I passed the once again closed master bedroom, off limits to loitering for fear of week old plague. Ol’ Jay... I passed Leon’s room, whose door was firmly shut, the stolen rifle in there somewhere. I tried the door out of a hunch. It was locked. He was thinking ahead, just in case Myra really was a homicidal psychopath. He was locking away our other gun - good thinking Leon.
He really was getting strangely over protective and crazy careful. He was becoming far too removed from anyone besides me and him. To him, this girl was hopefully a ‘temporary thing.’ She was one more burden to take care of because of me. I didn’t like it at all.
With grim thoughts, I turned into the bedroom that Myra and I were sharing, at least for tonight. She was sitting by the window on the edge of my mattress, and she was looking through the new wood slats that had been replaced over the window earlier today. She was just looking at…nothing really. It was a setting sun. There were bombs in the distance again; they had started back up again in midafternoon. The smoke continued to pour out of the tilted skyscrapers and downtown area. Not exactly a beautiful view considering lives were being lost and homes being destroyed constantly. And Myra was just staring at it as if transfixed. She didn’t hear me come in.
“You can have my bed if you like the view so much,” I spoke up finally.
Her reaction was almost laughable, the way she whipped her head around and gasped voicelessly (weird sound) in surprise to my voice, as if I was an ambushing soldier. I didn’t even sneak up on her on purpose, but she quickly collected herself and then shook her head quietly. Then, turning away from me and the window, she headed back to her old mattress slowly.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” I apologized as I stepped over the scrabble board which still sat near the center of the room. She gave an ‘its fine’ expression (if I was reading her face right) as she fell onto the bed next to the door and I sat on my mattress. However, there wasn’t much of anything to do, and I wasn’t tired yet. Plus I had a few more unanswered questions I wanted to ask Myra.
“Hey, Myra,” I said off the bat, and her head immediately perked up from the bed to hear. “So…how long were you awake before you got up and tried to escape this morning? I mean, I know you didn’t just coincidentally wake up right as I left the room, and your trickery’s fine since you just wanted to escape from us and thought we were assholes…or maybe you still do…”
I trailed off as I saw her roll off the bed kind of lethargically (probably at the annoyance of the only way she could answer me) and piece together more letters on the floor. Slowly, her feedback formed.
The first thing she put out before she answered me was I HATE NOT BEING ABLE TO TALK. Then she cleared it away to make:
YES I WAS AWAKE FOR A WHILE BEFORE YOU LEFT. I THOUGHT I WAS BEING HELD CAPTIVE. I DIDNT WANT TO CHANCE IT
Clear. SO I WAITED TILL YOU LEFT. THEN I TRIED THE ONLY WAY I THOUGHT POSSIBLE. WINDOW.
“Right, and you would’ve gotten away with it if you hadn’t made so much noise. So you really don’t think we’re like other people, right? You’re willing to stay with us for a while longer?”
She left her eyes to the letters and kept answering. WHERE ELSE WOULD I GO? AND NO, I DONT THINK YOU ARE LIKE OTHERS.
“Thanks. Leon’s a bit harsh, I know, but he’s only being protective. He really is good,” I said for Leon’s sake, then I realized she had put something more on the board. This part confused me.
BUT WHY?
“But why what?”
More letters. BUT WHY AREN’T YOU LIKE THE OTHERS? I THOUGHT EVERYONE BUT I WAS (a pause because she could find the right word)
“An asshole,” I suggested for her. She looked back at me, offered the slightest smile possible, and nodded.
This was a different kind of question entirely, and I took a moment before answering. Why wasn’t I more of an asshole (for lack of a better term)? Why weren’t Leon and I part of a malicious gang or power hungry faction or a cannibal crowd?
“I guess…it doesn’t suit us. That just can’t be us. For some reason, instead of choosing to be with any group, we chose our own. And in an unreasonable way… we both think that if there’s ever going to be a US again, it would be up to us to…I don’t know, be the normal ones. We don’t want to be those people, even if it means an easier survival for us. Leon and I have each other to look after, and that alone makes us less assholey than half the city. We are…family.”
I was a bit sheepish after saying all that, but it seemed like Myra accepted it well. Woo, I passed the test of good citizenship.
There was silence as she put one more thing on the board: IM GLAD SOMEONE ELSE IS WORTHY OF LIVING.
The final clack of the letter G seemed to ring throughout the room indefinitely. For some reason, that group of letters plainly put out there (like the thank you from earlier) was unusually flattering in some way. Someone in this city thought I was worth my life – gosh, what a both dumb and meaningful concept. I was worthy of my own heartbeats!
“Well… you can’t imagine how weird it is to suddenly just have someone like you come along… You’re worth your life too, Myra,” I said back, honestly.
She smiled a bit more behind her long and stringy brown hair before that happy expression, too, was gone. What a moment. Time to move on.
“Well anyhow, there are extra clothes in the closet in case you wanted to know. They’re big and for men, but they’re pretty clean and were left by the old owner,” I said. Kind of awkward change in discussion so I hurried along. “Just in case if you wanted to dress for nighttime or something. It’s up to you. I mean, you can change in here and I’ll get out…or the bathroom across from this room is perfectly fine. Or…”
Fracking shut up…
Myra simply got up and went to the closet, which hung slightly ajar beside the head of the mattress. She peeked inside and picked up the baggy, plain white shirt and the brown flannel from within. Neither of them would fit either of us, but they had fit well on Uncle Jay who had kindly offered them to me when I first arrived here. But I mostly just wore my one ragged, normal sized outfit.
She checked with me again to see if it was all right, and she went off to the useless bathroom without tap water in the hall to change.
I laid my head back on my mattress’s sheet. I wasn’t used to talking like this; to new people. It had been so long since I’d talked to someone other than Leon and Uncle Jay and the rare neighbor who came around to barter with us. I’d figured that they were the only ones I’d ever have to talk to. Pretty depressing, but also one less worry - no more social and media crap. No more electricity. No more chatting. No more friends.
I let loose a loud yawn. It was late for me by now. Normally I tried to be asleep by the time the sun was going down so I could get a good night’s rest, and even then sometimes Leon and I would take naps the following day to be even more rested.
I was BEAT.
In fact, I could already feel sleep pulling at my eyes, dragging them down to shut out the sight of that gray, blank ceiling. The outside light was fading and my thoughts were along with it. Day one of the mute girl had taken a lot out of me.
Day two of Uncle Jay’s death, and already, this house was reminding me of him over and over again. I could envision him sitting in his old rocking chair, looking after us as best as he could do. At least he had been someone who was always with us. He was one more person to share the long, sad days with. I still didn’t want to dwell too much on his memory.
Everything would get better…I kept telling myself this…then I could mourn when I wouldn’t have to worry about keeping my life…
By the time Myra had returned (only a few minutes later) with a new flannel nightshirt that reached her knees, I was half asleep on my mattress, fully clothed. In my doziness, I sensed her become quiet and step softly back to her own bed.
I managed to mumble, “Good night.”
All I got in response was the sound of her patting her pillow down twice.
…At around 12:30, Leon shook me awake, and I took up watch. He left and then I was alone in the night silence (what could be called ‘silence’). Except I could hear Myra’s peaceful breathing in the background and the occasional outside boom. Out the window I saw distant flashes but nothing dangerously close. I listened hard. I checked the other side of the house every once in a while. Nothing happened.
At 4, I went over to Myra’s bed to wake her up. I paused before doing so, not because I was creepy (hopefully), but because it struck me how similar she looked now to how she looked yesterday morning, unconsciousness. I quickly snapped out of it and tapped her shoulder which caused her to wake up immediately. I whispered if she knew what to do and she nodded.
I went back to my safe mattress to try and get another few hours of dreamless sleep before morning was fully upon us. It took me a little while longer to fall asleep because of this weird feeling. I think it had to do with having someone I had known for only a day or two being awake in the same room while I slept. I turned onto my side, facing the wall with the window, and tried not to let Myra’s movements keep me awake.
Her movements eventually didn’t keep me from blissful shuteye because about 20 minutes later, I was fast asleep. I might’ve dreamt, but I didn’t remember them by morning.
When I woke up and turned back over, it was morning and I saw Myra crouching there by the window. She wasn’t looking at me or doing anything except rocking back and forth and looking out the window, but I flinched for some reason - I guess I still wasn’t adjusted to having someone right there and it surprised me.
She also gave a slight jump when I did and her eyes went to me and widened in what the heck?
“Sorry,” I muttered, sliding back down onto the pillow. Great start to the day. “Just not used to…uh…having company in here.”
She nodded and turned back to the window. I savored what warmth I had in my bed before I got up. “Anything happen last night?”
She shook her head without looking at me. Still looking out that window. What was it with her and watching sunrises and sunsets?
“Okay, well, I’m going to Leon’s room. Your shift is over if you’d like to come along,” I offered. “Some sort of breakfast will be made.”
She got up and followed me out of the room.
The second day began. Getting ready. Breakfast rations. Leon told us that more toilet trenches needed to be dug outside. So taking two shovels (only two in the garage), the three of us trooped into our sort of safe backyard. We stayed behind the safety of the high, once fancy fence and stuck together since it was technically the dangerous outside. The one place with grass we were able stand around in. Several meters from the patio, there was a dug out trench which was the go to place because the commode indoors was out of commission. That was what we were working on today – more room and depth to the ‘toilet’.
I followed Leon’s orders, and Myra gave no objections either. She did a good job of being dutiful.
We tried not to think too much on what we were doing, but it was still gross. There was some smell. We got to digging, but shortly after I started, Leon pulled me away to talk, leaving Myra to do the job solo for a second. Really? Was this a repeat of last night?
We were now standing near the dead garden, hearing distance away from Myra, so if he was aiming to talk about her, this was not the right place. But I realized he wasn’t going to talk about Myra or me. To my surprise, he reached into his holster, took out the glock, and after a quick hesitance, held out the weapon to me.
It took me a second to realize what he was doing. “Wait, you’re letting me…you’re going to…”
“Well c’mon. You needed to learn sometime, and thinking on it, now is probably better than too late,” He said, confirming my thoughts. “Step number one is hold the gun.”
“No way,” I breathed, taking the gun and examining it. I could see Myra peering over to see what the commotion was about. “I always thought you were way too stubborn to ever let me defend myself…” Seeing his expression at that, I hurried on. “Thanks.”
For the next 15 minutes or so, he taught me how to hold, aim, and fire the weapon using a thing called a trigger. He made me swear up and down that I wouldn’t shoot it around here, then we practiced flipping the safety on and off and so on and so forth. So basic knowledge, but that was enough for me.
Then I gave back the gun to Leon and returned back to the trenches to help Myra out some more. He was teaching me so soon. There was something up. There had to be a reason why.
“Leon…is there any reason why you showed me how to shoot so quick?” I asked after picking up the second shovel from the dirt.
“Just in case. Like what we discussed yesterday, I think sooner rather than later is good,” he said with a small smile for no apparent reason. “I’ll take over for you, Myra. Just stick close by,” Leon said back. He took the shovel from Myra and began to lengthen the trench with me. Myra silently walked a little ways away as we assumed our jobs.
Still. That couldn’t be Leon’s whole reason. That couldn’t be IT.
We continued in silence, scooping earth into a pile beside the trench. That way, between the fence and the mounds of dirt, there could be some small degree of privacy when you crapped. Of course, I preferred walls in a bathroom, but these troughs would get the ‘job done’ efficiently.
Then Leon spoke, this time without the bits and pieces of optimism or dry humor from before, “We, uh…we can’t stay here much longer.”
“So…that means…what do you mean?” I asked, confused. I scooped the current mound and threw it right back into the trench, not looking where I was supposed to.
“I mean…” he paused shoveling. “There’s not much more food. We don’t have any way of getting a reliable meal from now on.”
“Reliable meal? I know we’ve been robbed and everything, but that doesn’t mean we don’t still have the Robinsons or the Browns who trade with us,” I said, his words sinking in. Moving? Months into the war? Where? We have everything we possibly have left in this one house. We have neighbors that we barter with for resources. I thought we WERE steady. How could we leave?
“That’s actually the reason right there,” Leon replied. “Turns out they’ve all been gone since that night we were at the super market… I checked both the Browns and the Robinsons’ houses when I took out the bandit’s corpse. I stopped by their places after I put his body in an empty alley. I don’t know why, but they’re gone… The Browns are dead, I saw them, but the Robinsons disappeared entirely. All of their stuff is gone too. I just don’t know why.”
“They’re all gone? Raiders? A militia?” I said, barely keeping my voice in check. Our last possible source of friendly people. Last trading partners. Last resorts. Gone. I put my shovel on the ground with a thunk. “All at the same time?”
“I guess. Crazy raiders deciding to tear through every house the same night we leave to scavenge. But I’ve been thinking ever since. And the best thing I think to do is… You know what, we need Myra to hear all this, get her. Let’s stop digging for now and get to the kitchen.”
With that declaration, he let his shovel fall to the ground and walked back to the house without looking back. I slowly turned to look for Myra who was somewhere in the yard.
Spotting her crouched by a dead plant in the garden, I called out to her to come inside. Don’t ask me why she was looking at a long shriveled plant so intently. Myra looked up from her examination, and brushing a strand of hair out of her face, she got up and came inside with me.
A minute later, the three of us were at the kitchen table again, Leon explaining to Myra what he had briefly told me. I had brought the scrabble board downstairs, and there it sat on the table nearest to her.
“And I know this is really sudden, but there might not be another choice. I mean, we’re essentially the only ones for blocks around that aren’t part of some bigger group now. And that means we’re the last ones to pick off for the thugs out there. We don’t have a consistent food source anymore either,” Leon ran a hand through his cut short hair. “There’s not much of a choice.”
“This sounds really risky just going out there. Where would we go? No good way out of the city. No place out there we can call home. How is leaving this house any better than staying put?” I said.
Myra didn’t put anything on the board. She listened.
“Of course that would be stupid if we left this house with nowhere to go. The only reason we’ve made it this far is because of these walls. But they can only protect us so far. And there may be another way to survive. Another place, safer,” Leon answered. “With possible food and shelter and…people.”
“People? Not raiders? Not cannibals? Not factions? But people?” I asked, skeptical. This was starting to sound too good to be true. We had been living in this hell for a while now and if there was one thing we had learned, it was that we couldn’t trust about 99% of people in large groups. Large groups = not friendly. So I thought I was very right in leaning toward staying here.
“Now, I know this might or might not work out. In fact it could go terribly wrong. But I think that this guy won’t turn us down. And he’s not straight out evil…he’ll either agree to help us out or…he’ll help us out, I’m pretty sure,” Leon said.
“So who is this guy?” I asked when he paused. He was clearly refraining from saying this guy’s name or something.
Leon took his hand out of his hair and took another breath. “Well, we don’t have the most pristine history with him, but I’m sure we can get past all that when we show up at his church with the stuff he and his men need.”
Leon looked at me, letting me figure it out. Myra just looked confused.
“Who are you talking-“I started, but stopped. The only dangerous guy we had even had a history with before. The only guy who had a group stationed at a church. “Wait, you mean…”
“Yeah, I mean Krauser.”
Krauser - the only bad ass organization boss who shot away anyone who walked into his territory and still loved Jesus. A bad combination.
