Ryan Westfield - Getting Out

“Chad!” screamed Max, bending down and putting his mouth right to his ear.

“Huh?” said Chad, finally realizing that Max was there. He was as high as a kite.

“Get up, Chad,” said Max.

He bent down and picked up the immensely heavy Chad. He seemed heavier now than he had before, if that was even possible. It was just the illusion the water was providing. Heavier things were always wet, and Chad was one of them.

“Hey, man,” said Chad, his eyes glossy and his pupils wide. “Funny seeing you here.”

“You think I could have one of those pills, man?” said Max. He knew that if talked Chad’s language, he’d hand then over.

“Sure, man,” said Chad. “I’m happy you’ve finally come around. You were always such a square, man. But now that civilization’s ending, you’re coming around… I like that, man.”

He handed the pills to Max. Max checked them. Fortunately, no water was getting into the airtight bottle.

Max shook the pills, hearing the sound of them rattling around.

“You know, there aren’t going to be any more of these,” said Max. “There aren’t any more factories to make them. You know that, right?”

“I know, man,” said Chad. “But got to enjoy it while you can, right?”

“Sure, man,” said Max, talking down to him, but Chad didn’t even notice. “Got to enjoy it while you can. But you realize you’re going to have to face the withdrawal sooner or later, right?”

“Sure, man,” said Chad, a happy look on his face. He wasn’t all there. “Say, aren’t you going to take one of those pills?”

“Yeah,” said Max. “I’m going to take all of them.”

“I tried that once,” said Chad vaguely. “Ended up in the hospital.”

“I’m giving them all to a dying guy,” said Max. “He actually needs them.”

“What?” said Chad, despair suddenly appearing on his face and in his voice. “You can’t do that! They’re mine.”

“I can do what I want,” said Max. “I saved you. The only reason you’re alive is because of me… because of our past. And you know what? You’re completely useless. And this guy needs the pills way more than you. He actually needs them. You? You’re just a coward.”

Max started walking swiftly away. He pulled his jacket close to him, to keep the gales of wind from blowing it open.

Chad ran after him. Max could hear his footsteps splashing in puddles.

“Give me the pills,” he shouted.

Max didn’t answer.

He didn’t even turn around.

The next thing he knew, Chad’s fist hit him in side of the face. It was a hard blow, and Max reeled from it, almost losing his balance.

“You don’t want to fight me,” said Max. It took every ounce of his self-control not to hit Chad back. But he knew that it would just create more problems for him later on. If he seriously injured Chad, he’d be the one who had to deal with it. That was his code of honor, his own system by which he had to live by, even if no one else did.

Chad growled like an animal. “Give me those pills,” he said. There was spittle coming out of his mouth. His face was flushed and red. He seemed not to notice the wind or the rain in the slightest.

Chad charged at him, lowering himself as if he was going to tackle Max.

Max stepped to the side easily and stuck out his leg. Chad tripped over it, and went flying face first into the mud.

Max was disgusted by his behavior, and didn’t even turn around to look at him, to see how he was.

He opened the door again, fighting the wind.

He climbed the stairs with heavy, wet footsteps.

“Here you go,” he said, handing the pills to Tod.

“He should take one whenever he feels discomfort,” said Mandy, who looked like she’d dried off just a little bit.

“What are you, a nurse?” said Max.

She didn’t answer.

The old dying man was asleep now, but Max could see the pain still on his face. He was glad that he would have the pills, and not Chad, but he knew that now he’d have to deal with Chad in withdrawal mania for however long it took for that shit to leave his system completely.

Max wanted to do nothing more than collapse on the floor downstairs, by the fire.

But he knew that wasn’t happening. Not that Tod wasn’t grateful. In fact, he wouldn’t shut up about it. He was saying that these pills would give his dad some relief in his final moments.

Max was beyond exhausted. He kept repeating to himself that he was exhausted, like a tape-recorded voice that wouldn’t stop in his head.

The world around him seemed to be fading. His mind was over-active. People’s voices were getting dimmer, and less important.

But one thing he could read loud and clear was the expression on Mandy’s face.

He saw it on her as clear as day. He saw how empathetic she was, how much it pained her to see this man dying, to consider all the people around the world in pain, dying without assistance, dying from starvation and a thousand horrors.

“Come on, Mandy,” said Max.

He took her hand and it felt warm in his. His own felt cold and clammy.

They said goodbye, and declined all offers of a hot meal from the fire. Max knew they had to be moving on. The faster they got to their destination, the better.

They walked hand in hand into the storm, into the rain, into the chaos of the natural world.

“What’s going to happen to everyone?” said Mandy. Her voice sounded distant.

Max didn’t answer.

He knew what she meant.

He was wondering the same thing. Somehow he’d been able to hold it all back until now, the thoughts of what this really meant.

He’d been so focused on his own personal survival, on what he needed to do to get out. In a way, that was a defense strategy, a personal thought shield against the true horrors of considering humanity at large right now.

If the entire world had experienced the EMP, which Max was thinking was more and more likely, given the complete lack of communication or help from the outside, then… well, everything was screwed.

He didn’t know how else to put it to himself. Images of children, men, women, elderly… all over the world… dying a thousand deaths. He felt like the Buddha, under that tree right after enlightenment, when he confronted the suffering of the world. There was no great force to confront, no greater pain to battle…

“Are you OK, Max?” said Mandy.

“Huh?” said Max.

“You have that faraway look in your eyes. Are you OK?”

“My wrist is fine,” said Max.

“I meant… you know, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” said Max. “But you better drive. My wrist is still messed up.”

“I thought it was fine?”

Max didn’t answer her.

“Chad!” yelled Max.

Chad was knocked out cold in the mud.

“What happened to him?”

“Who knows,” said Max. “Now help me get him into the Jeep.”

They dragged him towards the Jeep, not taking too much care with his body.

“What’s your deal with this guy, anyway?” said Mandy.

“Long story,” said Max.

James and Sadie drove through the storm. Unlike the pickup, which rattled and shook with the slightest bump, the SUV was brand new. And that meant that it felt completely insulated from the outside world.

The radio and CD player didn’t work, and there was no tape deck. But aside from the lack of music, it felt like they were back in civilization, just by sitting in the comfort of the SUV.

“I wish the seat warmers worked,” said Sadie.

“Shut up,” said James. “And help me look for Mom, won’t you?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“Wait,” said James, trying his best to peer through the rain. The windshield whipers were going as fast as they could. “I think that’s her!”