Broken Horizon, Part 7: Curtain Calls

Hey.

Unghhh.

Wake up, boy.

Go away.

It wasn’t a request.

I don’t want to wake up. Its quiet here.

Sorry, but you need to wake up.

Why?

Because it’s not finished yet.

What?

I don't know what, maybe you can remember. But it's definitely something, and the responsibility of carrying it out is probably yours.

That voice was beginning to irritate me. Didn't it understand? I just want to sleep, and to do that, I need people to shut the fuck up.

You can sleep later. I promise. Sleep all you want.

Really? All I want?

Oh yes. For hours and hours, days even. Just do this, and it'll be dreamland from here on in. Trust me.

I don’t normally trust people, as a rule.

I know.

Waking up turned out to be a Herculean effort. My skull throbbed with pain, my whole body ached. Moving my arms to find purchase where I lay brought a groan of pain out of me, and every joint in my body complained about the noise.

Then came the next hurdle: I couldn't open my eyes. I tried, but they seemed to be glued shut. So I blindly got up, or at least tried to. Christ, my leg felt like it was on fire. I managed to bring the other one under my butt and sit in a halfway-upright position.

Okay. Two out of three ain’t bad. Now do something about the eyes.

I brought my hand up to my face, trying to investigate why my eyelids were seemingly glued together, and was greeted by the rough, sticky texture of dried blood. I continued up to my forehead and winced as my fingers came across a canyon the size of the Nile River on my noggin’. I had a gash on my forehead, it stung like fuck-all, and I couldn't remember how it got there.

Okay, a little sit-rep: I’m blind, obviously in shock, sitting on my ass and my head is covered in blood. Apparently, it’s mostly - if not all - mine. I could feel panic starting to creep in. I couldn't remember anything. My name - fuck, what was my name? What the hell had happened to me? Had I been in an accident or something?

Do you suppose you'd do this to yourself on purpose? Open your eyes, and we'll sort out everything else later.

I moved my trembling hand toward my left eye, following the flow of the sticky dry blood as it had clotted around and between my eyelids. I pulled away some of the lashes, and for a brief moment the eye shot wide open. I closed it again, brushed away some of the mess, and painfully and slowly opened it again.

Now the other one.

'Fuck off.' I gurgled, but repeated the process anyway. I eventually managed to get both eyes open, and waited a few moments for my vision to resume focus and clarity.

Well done.

I took a look at my right hand. Jesus. My entire arm was covered in abrasions, blood, and part of my forearm was flayed open like a Martian landscape. It looked like I’d plunged it into the leftovers bucket of a trauma unit. Two, no, three of the fingers were stuck together due to the blood clot, and I painfully tore these apart. A path of blood ran down from my forehead, left arm and shirt, to my chest where it spread out across my stomach and ran down my right leg. As for the left leg -

Oh shit.

The lining of my BDU’s was ripped, which wasn't a very good thing because I could see the extent of the damage. Sometimes, ignorance really is bliss. Purple, blotchy bruises of various intensity blossomed across the torn flesh. The bruising swirled in a pattern of agony that gathered around the main showpiece, a huge laceration that ran down my tibia. Flashes of gleaming white partly obscured by red matter peeked through. I decided that I really didn't want to know what that was.

You know what that is.

Certainly do, I thought. That's the bone. I just don't want to know that right now, that's all. I'll deal with it later. I turned to examine my right arm, but discovered that it was not in view. I was leaning on it, and I couldn't feel it. It had become numb. Slowly, I twisted myself to one side, easing the arm out from underneath my torso. I felt my leg scrape along the ground. Too much, I couldn’t take it. I slumped back to the ground, slipping off my propped elbow, and hit the grass face-first.

Grass? Grass that was rock-solid. And covered in frost. I suddenly noticed how cold it was. What month was it? How did I know? When you can't even recall your name, the month isn't exactly the foremost thing in your memory.

It's January.

Okay, So I knew the month. January. What was the time?

What the hell are you thinking? Your leg is barely there, you don't know where you are or who you are, and you're concerned about the time?

Fine, whatever, just shut the fuck up for the love of Christ. Jesus, you sound like…Who? I couldn’t remember, and it hurt too much to try to think it through. But the cold was definitely having an affect on me as my body began massive shivers and uncontrollable muscle spasms.

That’s because you’ve been out on the ground all night, and God knows how much longer before that.

Inch by painful inch, I began to push my body into a prostrated position, trying all the time to raise my head. It was a struggle just to remain teetering on my knees once I got there, and I glanced around for something to give me support. Came up bust on that one, nothing but a small rock pile and twigs scattered too far to be of any use, if they had been strong enough. I began to heave myself erect, one leg under my body, then the other. My knees buckled together and I pushed upright from my thighs, hands slick with blood. No strength left after that, maybe two minutes into my attempt and I was completely drained of energy. I fell to the ground with a “Whooohf” and closed my eyes.

What are you doing? You can't rest here. If you sleep now, you might never wake up.

I know. I won't be long. Just a few moments. A little siesta before I carry on.

I began to drift away.

“Oh shit.”

Was that the voice again? It sounded different somehow. It wasn't the voice, I decided. It was another one. As to who it belonged to, I couldn't care less.

“Robbie?”

Who was Robbie? Is that me? Is that my name?

“Robbie? Can you hear me?” the voice asked. It wasn't the same voice as I’d previously heard, I knew that. The other voice had been dreamlike, wispy, in a far away place. This one was here. It was real.

It was female.

I managed to mumble something in reply, but my vision still unclear. The owner of the voice came into view. Long dark hair, brown complexion. Black eyes.

I knew her. Or, had known her. Now, she simply looked like a memory, an old photograph, like someone on a school class picture whose name evades recall. But I was familiar with her. And now I knew my name - Robbie. Not one that I would have chosen, but I seemed to be stuck with it.

“Robbie? Hey, Robbie!” the girl was shrieking now.

My tongue felt like a rolled pair of socks. 'Yes?' I managed. It came out “eighth?”

“Dios, you're in there. Thank God. Okay, gringo, we need to be moving. There’s a small cave not far from here, and I can make a fire.” The woman reached under my armpits and tugged me back to my knees. I had nothing left to help her with, and she clearly couldn’t get very far with me on her back.

“You have to try, pendejo. I need you to push as best you can, so we can get to the hillside. I can rig a carryall for you when we get out of this clearing.”

The girl managed to sling my arm around her shoulder. “Ungh, c’mon gringo! You got to try!” I forced myself to take a few wobbly steps, with the girl bearing most of the weight. I seriously wanted to just lay back down on the ground. “Wait” I said, “Let’s rest a while here.”

“No, we can’t!” The girl was suddenly livid, and her grip on me tightened “We can’t stay exposed out here any longer. They might come back.” She sighed, a sigh of resignation and defeat, a lens of tears beginning to form around her eyes. Things must be bad. For the first time, I realized the air had a gossamer trace of smoke- and a very sickening smell of burning flesh. I gathered that we were in some deep shit, and who the hell were “they”?

“I couldn’t risk bringing the truck out into the open. I don't know if I can carry you, but… We have to hump it to the cave.”

###################################

“I managed to save some of the water.”

“You did?”

“Yes, and the ammo as well. It wasn’t easy.”

“It wasn’t?”

“Well, no, I mean, with Severs gone and you out cold, I had to haul it all alone up the hill. I’m not built like you fuckers.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

The girl looked at me strangely. “You have never said “Sorry” to me, not once in eight months.” I hadn’t? Why not? Was I a mean person? The girl came closer, and looked into my eyes.

“Robbie-“

“Yes?”

“Don’t you remember?” she asked.

“No”

Yes, you do.

“Who are you?!?” I screamed into the sky, and the girl lurched a bit. “It’s me” she said “Maria. You call me chica all the time. You shoot people you don’t like and you look at my ass when you think I’m not paying attention.” “No, no…” I shook my head, but it didn’t make things any clearer “I can’t think, I don’t know-“ What? What don’t I know?

The girl – Maria? - made a small fire and cooked some food while I lay under a dank, smelly blanket, shivering. She brought something to eat to me, tried to speak a bit, but I just didn’t feel like it and rolled over, hoping to make it back to unconsciousness. My body was still wracked with pain, my leg was throbbing dully and sleep didn’t come as quickly as I wished.

Halfway through the night, it came back to me in a flood of memory. Gunshots. Explosions. Death and Horror. Every waking moment of the past year. I awoke with a start and lurched upright, tearing the scabs on some wounds. Not that I noticed.

There it was, laid out in my mind like a buffet of nightmares. We were a team. We had deserted Fort Haven after it had been overrun. We met Maria. The child had been killed. We raided. We killed some people and saved others. We shared some weed and food. Three days ago we were attacked by a small armed group. I remember-

“What the fuck?!?!” My head had a knot from hitting the dashboard after Severs slammed on the brakes. Maria squawked from the bed of the pickup as she violently woke up by sliding into the cab when the truck shuddered to a halt. “Hijo de la Chingada!” Severs didn’t answer. He pursed his lips and pointed to the canyon opening that yawned in front of us, and slid his other hand down to the Baretta tucked into the side door hidey-hole. I rubbed my noggin’ and tried to focus on his bearing.

There was a pile of wrecked cars, lumber, logs, metal fences, barbed wire & other refuse shaped into a barrier across the road. I could make out small dots of human heads poking out from this end and over that. Shit. This close to the Colorado River, and someone set up a toll booth? We had been in the woods too long. Things in the outside world had gotten worse, if that was possible.

“Now what’s this happy horseshit?” Maria was already uncovering her rifle, and I began rummaging through the seat case for spare ammo. “What are our options here?” I asked. Severs sucked his teeth and said “We could go around, I guess…Take a hell of a long time & no guarantee we’ll be able to get the truck through, though. Doubt we’ll make it to the canyon without the supplies, it’s too far a hike through the desert.” We all knew better by now than to ask if they would just let us mosey on through without any trouble. We had seen enough of this kind of shit on the main highway. Nobody puts that much effort in setting up a blockade in the middle of the road unless they’re looking for a fight in the first place.

We still had almost a full box of secondary high-explosive, complete with detonators, and I wasn’t adverse to using them. “Do you think a couple of boomsticks would rattle the cage a bit? It don’t look to be held together all that tightly, if you ask me.”

“No. Check out them pop towers there” Sev pointed to the center of the ‘cade “We’d never get close enough to throw them. Everything about this place is designed to be a flytrap. Get stupid, rush through, get too close…” He shrugged “We‘re wasting time here. Let’s head back to the main road and find another way. This is too much to chew in one bite.” No arguing with that, a smart soldier knows when a war is unwinnable. Which might account for the distinct lack of smart soldiers still around these days.

“Hey, pendejos…I think we need to work on plan ‘B’.” I turned to look at Maria, and saw them: Two jeeps emerging from the treeline next to the ‘cade. We had dawdled too long in wide open space, and now the cavalry was coming to investigate.

Fuck. We were getting sloppy. Country life will do that to you. We couldn’t run and gun, and we didn’t have enough maneuvering room here, either. We’d have to slug this one out. Severs exited the cab and Maria passed him his M16. I had one as well, and Maria still had her LUSA 94 AWB. She had become a fucking Robin Hood with that thing, and was a better shot than me. Not that I would ever tell her that.

We took up defensive positions, I stayed behind the engine block and Maria dropped to the ground behind the bed. Severs crouched at the front of the truck. Not a whole lot of cover, but he had a wider field of fire as well. Not that it mattered. Severs saw it first, and I watched with drop-jawed amazement as he put his weapon on the ground, stood up and raised his hands above his head. “Sev, what the fuck…?”

“No time, boy. Do as I do.”

I saw it as the jeeps drew near: The faint outline of automatic weapons mounted on the back of the jeeps. And I recognized the make, too: Browning M1919’s. Heavy bastards, enough firepower to cut the little pickup in half, and us with it. And if any of those rounds hit the TNT…I didn’t want to think of it. Bullets weren’t the language we needed to speak right now. Maria and I followed Sev’s lead and as the two jeeps stopped close we lined up in front of the truck with ours guns on the ground and arms half-raised. There was a brief moment when nobody moved, and then everybody lumbered out of their rides.

Completely.

Even the guys on the Brownings.

Say what?

They all sauntered over to us, locked and cocked, just as sure as you please. Amateurs. Nobody covering their six with one of those cannons? I couldn’t believe our luck, and I saw a faint smile curl around the edge of Severs’ mouth as well. Not fantastic odds, to be sure. But it was something I would be willing to lay down money on. As they drew close, guns still trained on us, I could see their eyes. angry red, bloodshot eyes, twitching left and right in a nervous scan pattern. Another point in our favor: They were high. We might have a shot after all, but we would have to play this to the bone. Stoned soldiers make for twitchy trigger fingers. One of the older men assumed the role of leader, complete with BDU pants, t-shirt and a scraggly beard. The pony tail was a bit much to stomach, but I managed not to snigger.

“Whaall-up, I can see that you folks are goin’ on vacation somewheres. Headin’ for th’ Canyon?”

“No, the beach. How far off are we?” Maria retorted, and I grimaced a bit. Easy chica. We don’t know the score yet.

Ignoring both Maria and her comment, the old man approached Severs. “You a gunny?” he asked. Sev nodded “Eight years”.

The old man nodded as well “Yep. I can always smell me shooter, I can. ‘Sa talent.” The troop surrounded us at close quarters during this little exchange, shoving a couple of barrels into our backs. It became difficult for me not to laugh out loud. Why not wear blindfolds too, you morons? I did a quick scan: Seven fuckers, varied weaponry. The moron to my immediate left cut a none too impressive figure in faded denims and ZZ Top beard, capped off by a pair of wide-lensed sunglasses and unsightly WW2 infantryman's helmet. His features were grizzled and stained in blood, sweat and gasoline, a toothy grin etched across face.

To the right came a scuffle that caught our attention; A black man, the only one in the group, was getting his ass handed to him by one of the morons. It was then that I noticed he had no visible firearms. "I gave you an order nigger, and you will comply the next-time I order you to do something by God, oh yes you shall!" He began to beat the black man with the butt of his rifle, until the head moron intervened. “Enough bullshit, Reese! Take number 3 and secure the surplus, as well as the truck.” He turned to us “We’re having a little shortage of manpower at the moment, and we need to replenish th’ ranks, if y’follow me.”

“Hop it, Three” said Reese, and walked towards our truck. The black man went trotting after his master, head down. This had just turned un-fucking-real.

Severs held up a couple of fingers “Can I ask a question?” he said. The moron covering him rammed the butt of his rifle into Severs' kidneys "Don't speak, don’t make requests!” he replied with a snarl, "You’ll get what you deserve in time!" Scraggle Beard waved his pal down and chuckled “We have an order around here, and you boys need to learn your place in it, if y’want t’be family.” He eyeballed Maria and whistled through his teeth. “Your girl there can have a part in things as well, provided she knows her place.”

An eyebrow went up. “My place?” Maria asked.

“Well…You’re not exactly full-blooded American stock, are you? Not born here? You have an accent.” He smiled at her “I had lots of you people working at my daddy’s house in Texas. I know the lingo.”

Oh no you didn’t. Maria’s eyes narrowed, and I knew she was primed for killing. Good. That would make this easier.

I stared the finger-code the three of us had worked out months before, for silent communication. It wasn’t based on the military code, since most of the scattered ronin military would have guessed what we were saying, if we encountered them. We had intermingled some ubiquitous catch-phrases we could use in conjunction with simplistic hand gestures, if we needed to.

I made a decision and raised my hands into a “T” formation. “Wait, wait! Time out! Time out!” Doing that made me look like an idiot to anyone who didn’t know the code, which was also to our advantage. They would think we were incompetent. They would relax their guard.

What I actually said was “Get ready to kill everyone in sight.”

I took a hesitant step forward and pointed two fingers at Scraggly Beard, who I pegged for the leader “You are the man here, there’s no mistake.”

We need to off this fucker first.

I cheated another half step towards the leader while I waved at my comrades “The three of us couldn’t stand against you if we had, shit, double that number.”

Start the fireworks in six seconds, counting now.

6

The moron actually smiled at me. “I’m glad you’re starting to see sense.” He said.

5

I returned his smile and opened my hands, palms up. The picture of submission if ever there was one. “Hey I know which side my bread is buttered on. If you look in the glove box, you’ll find some more weed.” And be boxed in when the shit hits the fan.

4

Scraggy’s rifle was still pointed at the ground, and I could see out of the corner of my eyes that the goon on the left had relaxed a touch. That’s it, boys. Nothing to fear here.

3

Maria had casually unzipped her pants and was working furiously into her crotch. This was a “Gotcha!” all the way, and it had the desired effect: Everyone gawked at her while she sheepishly smiled and said “Sorry. Herpes. The pus just goes everywhere.”

2

There was a sudden grimacing and averting of eyes, as every man in the crowd suddenly tried to arrest his thoughts. They weren’t thinking of us, and they were trying especially hard not to think of Maria and her dripping crotch.

Perfect.

Severs spun on his heel and grabbed the barrel of the shotgun that had been shoved into his back, simultaneously wrenching it leeward and twisting his body wide of the opening. The idiot holding the rifle began spraying lead all over the place on autopilot like an amateur, and Severs swung the barrel around to point at the Leader. The shots went wide, missed Scraggly Beard but slammed rounds into his buddies on either side. I drop-rolled out of the way & grabbed a rifle off the floor from one of the shot fuckers who had been pointing it at me six seconds ago. He was staring at me wide-eyed, clasping his chest and sucking in breath. I winked at him as he died. “Sayonara, sucker!”

The leader had recovered his senses and ran like hell for the rear of the nearest jeep, trying to get some cover between us and him. I sprayed half a clip in his general direction to keep his head ringing while Severs snapped his gunner’s neck with a savage twist. Maria had buried her hideaway knife (the one she kept sheathed next to her crotch) into the gut of the moron closest to her & lit out for the treeline, like we had taught her. She would find cover and act as our ace in the hole, if this train went south unexpectedly.

The other two morons had been caught flat-footed and fled in opposite directions; neither one was visible when we had finished our carnage of destruction. Number Three was face-down in the dirt, looking all the world like a rag doll. “Hey, umm, Number Three! Are you hit?” After a second, I added “Do you have another name?” Without answering, Number Three ran like hell for the opposite treeline, away from the ‘cade. Great, so much for gratitude. There wasn’t any sound of an alarm, and no one broke cover to engage us immediately. I wasn’t sure what they had for reinforcements, but it didn’t look like much. I figured it would take several minutes to actually muster anything resembling a defense.

“Hey fagboy, we need to clear the decks here!” Severs was replacing the shells in the shotty from scrounged ammo off his tail gunner’s corpse. He ratcheted the initial round home and scanned the area left to right. “I was just thinking of pitching camp, and you wanna leave?” As if to answer me, the leader sent two short, controlled bursts our way to let us know he was still in the game. We were wide open, but we outgunned his ass and he knew it. Still, better safe than dead as fuck.

Severs and I grabbed a few extra clips from the dead and scrambled for cover behind our pickup 30 yards away, each one alternating quick return bursts towards the jeep to allow the other time to gain ground. I kept a steady rhythm plinking his way, to suppress any ideas he had of climbing onto the jeep and heating up one of the Brownings. No gunfire came from the ‘cade, and I figured the main shooters had also been our welcome wagon. Which meant they had lost about half their men. No sooner had this thought crossed my mind when yet a third jeep broke from the treeline. Reese, he of the sanctimonious racial brigade, had brought the cavalry.

Aw, goddammit, enough already!

We were both caught out in wide open space, and jumping back into the truck would have only meant dying with bullet holes in our backs instead of our fronts. I had started cooking off rounds at the new jeep, thinking it would slow them down, maybe get a lucky shot at the gunner. All Sev had was that pump action shotty – Not enough range to be threatening. That third jeep was about to rip us in half, and all we could do was die like dumbasses.

Scraggle Beard had jumped into one of the parked jeeps while we were occupied with the third one, started it, and was trying to make for the ‘cade treeline while Reese came straight at us, his gunner showering lead in our general direction, missing us entirely. Clearly combat training was something these guys had never received. Severs sent a double blast towards Scraggle Beard, then pointed at the fleeing vehicle “Robbie, pop that fucker!” I tossed Sev my M16 and grabbed one of our payloads from the truck bed – pre-wrapped TNT in a four stick pack – and began setting the detonation timer when a volley piped across the hood of the truck, missing me by inches. “Goddamit you fucking retard, keep their heads down!” As Reese got closer, Severs stood his ground and began firing at the driver side of the windshield, bullets exploding the ground around him. When the windshield cracked with a direct hit, the jeep swerved and began to tilt. The gunner lost his balance and braced himself against the still-firing Browning machine gun-

-swinging the bullet pattern directly into Severs position, every one with his name on them. The rounds ripped into Sev’s body, through it, and punched holes into the driver’s side door big enough to see through. He convulsed in midair as the bullet impacts lifted him several feet & bounced him off the hood of the truck before he fell to the ground. “Goddamit!” I screamed. I reset the blasting cap to 6 seconds and threw the sonofabitch as far towards the middle of the thicket as I possibly could. I didn’t bother counting the seconds, at this close all I needed to worry about was fucking running like hell. I could see Reese running for Scraggle Beard’s jeep, which wasn’t slowing down for him. I grabbed Sever’s body and tried to drag it with me. Don’t ask me what I was thinking, I couldn’t tell you. I knew he was dead. But I thought, if I could just get him back into the truck, I can fix this, save him, I coul-

The explosion destroyed my thought pattern. Something that felt like a baseball bat hit me below the waist, and my left leg was yanked out behind me as I crashed to the ground and felt my body flatten into the dirt.

Shortly, I managed to open my eyes, but there was blood running into them. I couldn’t move & it was difficult to breathe. The barricade had held. Not well, from what I could see, but it wasn’t destroyed either. More figures broke from the unruined part of ‘cade. Maybe a dozen, maybe more. Some looked to be on fire, the others were scattering in all directions. My vision was getting really blurry, and from the feel of things my shrapnel-to-flesh ratio was way off kilter. It was increasingly harder to see as a thick haze settled over the land. I figured they must have been using the ‘cade as some sort of refuse pile as well, a noxious smoke was pluming off the burning areas and a high acrid stench filled the air. I could see the remains of Scraggle Beard's jeep, and it looked like there were Reese's pieces lying all around it.

Reese's pieces...aheheh. Jesus. I'm dying, and all I can do is crack jokes.

I was struggling to remain conscious as I rolled to my back, and the sky above me filed with the heads and faces of some of the morons we were exchanging lead with. Including Scraggle Beard, who was now going to be known as Roasted Face. It was hard to focus, but it looked like I had got some of that ponytail too. Good.

Roasted Face shook his head and spoke to the others. "Three jeeps and most of our best men go up in flames, and this asshole manages to survive.” He ratcheted a round into the chamber of his weapon, but paused before pointing it at me. A look crossed his face, and he holstered the sidearm without firing. “Seems a shame t’waste a bullet on a man who’s already dead.” He said “I suppose the rodents, ants and critters around here could finish the job more slowly than we could."

I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but a tsunami of pain overtook my senses and I passed out with “Fuck” on my lips.

How long I was out is anyone’s guess.

###################################

The cave floor was cold, but I didn’t notice it. I was numb. Severs-Oh, oh fuck. No, no, nonononono.

Severs was dead. My friend was gone. Oh God, please no. Just take it all away again. Please, I don’t want to remember anymore.

For the first time in days, the pain that hit me wasn’t from my wounds. It was much more terrible.

###################################

Maria found me huddled against a rock overlooking the mesa the next morning, and had brought some coffee. I didn’t remember where or how we got it, but I wasn’t concerned about it. If it was memory loss, who cared? I remembered more now than I wanted to anyway.

“Robbie…I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s okay, Ria” I replied, “I remember it all now.”

“Oh.”

We sat silent for awhile, both of us unsure where to go from here. “I got his dog tags, if you want them.”

A sigh.

“Maybe later” I temporized, “I really don’t want to talk about this right now, Maria.”

“He died very bravely-“

“I said I don’t want to talk about it!” I screamed. My voice echoed over the mesa in the stunned silence as Maria turned away and walked back to the cave, leaving me alone with the ghost of my friend.

Two days went by without two full sentences passing between Maria and I. You know that saying, about keeping busy to take your mind of troubles? I’ve always thought it was a load of bullshit. I’ve never been able to work, train or fuck hard enough to forget something urgent or traumatizing. It doesn’t motivate me, if you know what I mean. I always know there’s something to be dealt with, and I’m just prolonging the inevitable.

Maria tried her best. Let’s gather firewood, we need a lean-to here, can you clean the automatic rifles, etc. It didn’t help a bit, and I was pretty much useless anyway with my injuries. Maria must have gone back for the truck after the big bang, we still had a quarter of the supplies left. Our foodstuff was more plentiful, since there was one less mouth to feed. I didn’t much feel like eating anyway, and besides, the pain was so bad at times that I wouldn’t be able to keep anything down if I tried. I just shuffled back to the far wall of the cave and slept as much as I could.

###################################

“They’re hunting us.” Maria had gone on a short recon, that had lasted well over seven hours. “Are you sure?” I asked. Maria nodded. “I had to cover myself with dirt and leaves so they wouldn’t see me, and they kept circling the area. Robbie, they know we’re still around here, and sooner or later, they’ll find us.”

“How many?”

“Maybe fifteen, maybe more. Not enough to cover a large area, and they’re looking in the wrong direction right now. But if they keep at it, they’ll find us in a week, tops.” I stared into the sky “Well shit, this puts us on a time schedule. What do we want to do here?”

Maria snorted. “We run, that’s what. Run, duck, and live to fight another day.” I looked at her “Say what?” “Well, that’s what you’ve always said, right? ‘Something else over the next ridge’? We sure as shit can’t take these bastardo degenerados on full-front, even if Severs was still here and you didn’t look like shit.”

“Go where, exactly? We spent our last chip trying to make for the Colorado River, I don’t have a plan B, you know.” I stopped to catch my breath. All this talking was wearing me out. I spoke in lower, modulated tones “I don’t even know what we should do right here and now. Fuck.”

Maria came over and stood beside me. “We have to go on, white boy. I don’t know if its better or worse than here and now, but by fuck, I’m going to see what’s over the next ridge.” She smirked at me for a second “Besides, we need to find some more supplies. I think if we head North, towards Washington. Seattle, maybe.” Maria looked towards the tree thicket and shook her head “The Canyon’s out, anyways. They’re hunting us, and we don’t have what it takes to make it through.” She went back into the cave to start the fire for the evening.

I spent the entire night looking at the sky, trying to think of options. Without Severs, I just couldn’t come up with anything. Without that other half to work with…there was nothing but empty space. When the dawn came, I was still awake. I shuffled over to the supply stack and took a quick inventory; A few ratty blankets that would fall apart at the next washing, two food bags, one 30 gallon water barrel, only ¼ full. A couple of Barettas, an M16 Maria had snagged from one of the dead fuckers and a 30-06 hunting rifle, sans scope. Enough ammo to go around for either a last stand or a desperate escape. Not a prolonged siege.

Which is what this would turn into if those fuckers found us.

My leg was getting ripe. I knew gangrene would set in, if it hadn’t already. I was weak as a kitten, and soon I would be crippled as well, unless we could get some more medical supplies. The problem was, we didn’t have any more medical supplies and no one was manufacturing them. Not anymore. I looked down at my leg, and I knew it was time to face the facts. The rest of me might heal in a few weeks, but that – that leg was going to either come off or kill me. Even if our escape run was successful, I would still die soon. And Maria couldn’t take them on and save me as well. One of us would have to go. Odd man out. One potato, two potato…I knew what I was going to do.

Yes. You do.

About an hour later, Maria got up and started making some coffee in the hot embers left over from last nights’ fire. I watched her for a bit, drinking it all in; This cold air, this beautiful woman, this awful situation, this wonderful sunrise. I gathered my reasons one last time.

“Maria”

“Yes?”

“You did real good, getting the truck back and saving our shit. It was quick thinking under fire, just like Sev or I would have done.” “Oh. Well, um, I…”

“Thank you for saving me.”

Maria was speechless, which was fine with me. I could see she was uncomfortable with the way the conversation had gone, and returned to assessing and packing our rapidly dwindling supplies. When I was sure she was fully occupied with taking stock of our ammo, I limped and lurched, as nonchalantly as a dying cripple could, over to the pickup. It had taken some hits, and the passenger side door was riddled with bullet holes and painted with at least a gallon of dried blood.

Severs’ blood. My friend was going to be with me after all.

If I could take out the ‘cade, it would be an easy hike to the Colorado River. A single person, with food, water and ammo could do it. It would be chancy without me, but – Hell, she was going to lose me anyway. Might as well clear the way for her.

Might as well do it with style.

No one would ever take stock of my life and measure it to be worth something more than spit. No one would ever mention my name and the word “hero” in the same breath, not that I ever gave a shit about such things. But we had come too fucking far, and sacrificed far too fucking much to stop here. I couldn’t change the past. I couldn’t save Evie. I couldn’t save Severs. I wasn’t going to be able to save myself. But I wasn’t about to let Maria die with me, no fucking way. I would make this one count, for fucking once, I would make this motherfucker count for something.

You fuckers are gonna be sorry you ever thought of crossing me. I’m going to fix your asses, right here, right now.

I didn’t have the time it would take to set all the blasting caps and rig them together…But then, I didn’t really need to. Just three or four, wrapped with the entire bunch would be enough to set off the remainder. And four sticks of TNT could do some serious damage on their own, I’m here to tell ‘ya.

I secured the deadly package as best I could, wedging it between a sack of tools and a wheel well and tossed the manual control through the shattered back window of the cab into the passenger seat. I dropped a couple of TNT sticks down inside the rucksack I was leaving on the ground for Maria & slowly eased myself in behind the wheel. I made sure I was good and settled before I turned the ignition. I would only get one chance to do this, better to do it right the first time. As soon as the starter coughed, Maria’s head popped up from behind the rocks, a quizzical look on her face. As I started to pull away, she jumped down from the cave entrance and chased after me, waving her arms and shouting something.

I’m sorry, Chica. Not this time.

I ignored the pain in my rotting leg and shifted into second, then third. Glancing into the rearview mirror for a second (how the hell did that survive intact?) I could see a slowly disappearing form in the dust, still running to catch up with me. We were a little over a mile from the barricade, but unless she was part cheetah, she wouldn’t make it in time. I had to shift between second and third all the way through the tree patch to avoid colliding with one of the oaks, but if Maria had driven the truck through here, I could drive it back. When I finally broke through the treeline, I was a little further away from my target than we had been the first time this whole thing went down. The barricade was out of sight, but I knew it was just around the rock formation a hundred yards in front of me. I let the engine idle for a moment and closed my eyes. My hands were shaking, and for once, the pain of my leg wasn’t in the forefront of my mind. This was it, this was really it. Time to go big or go home.

I gunned the engine, threw the shift and stood on the accelerator. As I rounded the corner a few seconds later the ‘cade sprawled into view, a monument to a dead kingdom with no king. I slammed into fourth and aimed the pickup at the barricade. Whoever was left alive in there was apparently awake, as bullets plinked off the hood, through the cracked windshield, into the engine bock. I pushed the pickup as hard as I possibly could, and veered towards the center of the ‘cade. My right hand gripped the manual detonator, and I set my will to press the ignition switch.

Make it big, boy.

“Yaaah! Here comes the news, motherfuckers!!” I screamed, and cut the wheel as sharply as I could, flipping the truck into the ‘cade. I clicked the detonator in midair, as my automotive missile slammed sideways into the wall of steel, wood and humans, doing 90.

This one’s for you Sev. See you soon, man.

Kaboom.

###################################

For some cruel reason, the Gods had decided not to let me die immediately with the blast. Maybe so I could get a final glance at my handiwork. Maybe just to string out the pain a little longer. I felt my body being lifted slightly, and my remaining eye found a blurry version of Maria looking down on me, my head in her arms. Her mouth was moving, but I couldn’t hear a thing. “Ria-“ I gagged as more thick, coppery fluid demanded escape from my throat, and coughed several times, the blood/mucus mixture dripping down my chin and neck. “…oOBBBieee…!” Maria wasn’t getting through to my brain, and a passing synapse must have reminded me that it was probably because most of it was leaking out of a hole in my head. I made a last effort to speak, to tell her I was proud to have known her, to forgive me, to kiss me, I loved her …but the wave of darkness took me, and then it was all silent once again.

You know those religious debates you see all the time about what happens to us after we die? We go here, we go there, something happens, nothing happens, God, the Devil, Heaven, Hell, all that?

They’re all wrong.

###################################

15 Years Later
Hulapanita, The Colorado River
(Formerly Hulapai Indian Reservation)


It’s cold today. Colder than usual.

The rains finally came, those rare, wet times that have grown increasingly scarce since the Earth was cooked in a nuclear barbecue. I set out the collectors, and prepared the roots for cooking. There is an ache in my bones that makes bending more of a chore than it used to be.

I am getting old, this I know.

Yesterday, one of the not-men shambled up the river from the Eastern states, mutated and grotesque after a decade and a half of radiation exposure. But they are very easy to hear coming, and mostly cannot climb very high. I always pick them off before they know I am there. I still have the eye for a target. We have to be more careful than in the old days, the dangers are much worse now and death always sleeps close. There are spiders. Very large ones. And flies that can drink a baby dry of its blood. And the roaches- But that doesn’t matter. We have learned how to live in this new world, this scorched Earth.

The rain is good. It makes me feel alive and whole again.

Today I let the rain fall on my face as I looked at the sky, and I thought of the Pendejos.

Dios. I watch the black clouds roiling in the heavens and ask the question more and more every day. So many questions, and I have lived with them for so long. Why? I would never have believed, not in a million-

I cannot say why Robbie decided to make the run without of me. Maybe he didn’t want to go on without his friend, maybe he felt the need to protect me, maybe he had finally had enough of the insanity this new life brought, the knowing that the world would never go back to what it was. I think of his final bow, and the answers never come. Only more questions.

I think of Evie, the child who was not mine, but I loved anyway. I could not save her. For this, I have wondered many days and nights why God lets such things happen. And the answers never come. Only more questions.

I remember Severs, the gentle giant with a killer’s hands. I think of how he met his death head on, without a moment’s hesitation. I like to think that I would do that as well, face death and spit in its eye before I go.

I have never forgotten the gringos. They were my family.

I often think of how strange it was, back when they found me, the horror and despair they took me from, and the fighting chance to live that they offered me. And just as quickly, they were taken from me. It seems so far away now. It’s like a bad dream that you awaken from, only to find yourself still in it. Now, I live by the gringo’s code: Fuck it, life’s too short. Grab me a beer, wouldya?

It’s a good code. They were good men.

I wish we still had beer.

I can hear the sound of metal being polished back in the cave, and I know Sangita has begun her chores. Shed knows how to field strip, clean and load a gun, sharpen a knife and hunt for food.

She is beautiful, my daughter.

Which one her father was, I am not sure. For all I care, it could have been both of them. I honestly hope that it was. In this way, I still keep them close to my heart. She is so much like them, hot tempered and passionate. Quick and arrogant. And a real smart ass.

She is reaching the age of womanhood, and soon I must give her the heritage that rightfully belongs to her. I will take her with me on the pilgrimage to the city, so many days from here. I will sit with her on the mesa that overlooks it, and we will watch the sun set over the broken horizon of ruined buildings and deserted streets overgrown with vegetation. I will tell her of the two men, the brothers of war who made me one of them in the early days of the apocalypse, before the time of the Great Tribes. I will tell her of the only names I knew them by, Robbie and Severs, one first and one last name between the two of them. Maybe that’s all they needed, and I never asked for more.

I will teach her to use a knife, like me.

I will teach her to shoot like Severs, calm with a steady eye.

And I will teach her to say “Motherfucker” like Robbie.

He would have liked that, I think.