Ryan Westfield - Getting Out

“James,” said Georgia. “I want you to know that that’s not an option for anyone in our family. That’s simply not going to happen. We’re going to make it. We’re not like everyone else. We’re going to make it, James.”

“I know,” said James. “I know.”

But the gravity of the situation, the perils ahead, suddenly struck him harder than they ever had before.

James kept driving the shiny new SUV into the darkening rain-drenched night. The thunder was all around them. James could barely see fifteen feet in front of them, but he kept driving. He had to. He had to save them.

Chad couldn’t believe it. He woke up, drenched in sweat. But he was freezing cold.

His head ached like nothing he’d ever felt before.

He couldn’t remember what had happened for a full minute, and he stayed silent, in the hopes that people around him would talk.

He then realized he didn’t know where he was, or who he was with.

Was he with Marty and Danny again, on some kind of crazy mission, some midnight mischief?

He was in a car, in the backseat. He knew that much. They were driving through a horrible storm, somewhere way out in the woods.

Chad tried to stay silent, but it was too much for him.

“Danny, where the hell are you taking us, man? And what happened to my head?”

“Danny? Who the hell are you talking about?”

It all came gushing back to Chad. The memories.

The end of civilization. Oh yeah.

Damn it.

And then he remembered the worst part: he didn’t have his pills.

Max had stolen them from him, and then knocked him out.

Chad knew that he was going through withdrawal, which was strange, since one of the last things he remembered was being high off his ass. So that meant he must have been knocked out for a long, long time. No wonder his head ached so much.

“You gave my pills away, didn’t you?” he said to Max.

“Yeah, Chad,” said Max. “I did.”

“It was for a good cause, Chad,” said Mandy, speaking kindly. “There was a dying man. He was in so much pain… And you’re going to have to go through withdrawal anyway.”

On some level, Chad knew that he just wanted to be a dick because of withdrawal. He knew that it was screwing with his emotions. With everything. He knew that he wasn’t himself, but then again, he didn’t really know who he actually was. He didn’t know where he himself was.

Chad took a deep breath to try to calm himself.

But the rage was already pouring through him. It was too late.

“Shut the hell up, you sexy little bitch,” said Chad. “What the hell do you know about what I’ve been through?”

“Hey!” yelled Max. “Don’t talk to her like that, Chad. She doesn’t deserve that. I’m the one who gave the pills away.”

“You asshole,” said Chad. “Stop the car. I’m getting out. I don’t need your shit.”

“Where you going to go, buddy?” said Max. “You’re going to wander around the woods until you starve to death, or until someone finds you and decides you’re starting to look juicy to their grumbling stomach. You want to die, or be killed and eaten? Tortured? What do you want to happen, Chad?”

“I don’t give a damn,” said Chad.

He tried to open the door, but it didn’t open.

“Why won’t this piece of shit open?”

“I’ve got the child safety lock on,” said Max.

“You sanctimonious piece of shit,” shouted Chad. “Let me go die in peace.”

“Screw you, Chad,” said Max.

“Screw you, too.”

Chad lunged forward, not caring what happened to himself. He just wanted to express his rage. He wanted to hurt Max. He didn’t care that Max had saved him.

It happened too fast for Chad to understand what was happening.

Mandy swung something at him, something hard and made of metal. It collided with his skull, and he fell instantly unconscious yet again.

The world was ending.

Norma had moved out here with her two best friends after college. It was supposed to be just for a summer, but it was a summer that had never ended. They were all very close, and shared everything together, gossip about the men they were dating, their wine, their clothes.

They’d all gotten jobs and stayed through the first season. Now it was over twenty years later, and the world was ending.

Norma hadn’t thought that it would end this way.

Her parents had died. Her brothers and sisters had moved far away a long time ago.

Norma had enjoyed the area, going for hikes and walks, learning to fish. She’d taught middle school there, and her two roommates had worked as clerks at a grocery store. None of them needed much money—they split the rent, and didn’t exactly spend a lot. They’d all shared the one compact car.

It was an unusual lifestyle, but it had worked for the three of them. They’d all gone to school in New York City. That was back when the city was a real hell hole, and they all wanted to get out, get back to nature, that sort of thing.

That was the time when all the hippies were dropping out of society. They were moving to California, down south, out west, abroad, Canada, wherever they thought they could start over. Norma had never been a hippie, but something about the movement had been appealing.

Things hadn’t seemed right when the power went off. The phones didn’t work. People from the nearby town were driving by, acting all crazy. People were freaking out.

A couple military vehicles had driven by, types that she’d never seen before. The soldiers warned her that the United States was under attack. They said the roads were all closed to the city, and to the nearby areas.

It didn’t seem like the US was under attack. But something was definitely wrong. Very wrong.

There was no way to get food.

Norma’s encounter with Georgia had solidified this in her mind. She knew there was no way she and her friends would live.

But Norma couldn’t bring them along with her, for where she was about to go.

Norma had struggled with depression for years. Sure, she’d had fun. But the depression always came back, that black hole that seemed to swallow her up.

The woods were nice, despite the rain.

The storm seemed beautiful, in a way. It was nature at work, in full force. Nature would swallow up the planet. Life would go on. Maybe not so much human life. But there would be survivors, and eventually things would get back to where they were. Maybe the survivors would warn their descendants about what had happened, and some mistakes could be avoided.

But Norma didn’t have a lot of confidence that things would improve. She knew that humans had set things up horribly, practically destroyed the planet in doing so. Maybe they deserved what was coming to them. Norma didn’t know.

The black hole of depression was there. But it was easing up.

They’d asked if Norma was OK, if she was sure she wanted to go walking alone during the storm.

She’d told them she was fine, that she’d always loved the rain.

They’d been worried, but they were tired, and didn’t want to argue with her. They understood that sometimes she needed to be alone, even if it seemed crazy, even if there was a storm outside.

The wind was crashing into her. The lightning was flashing in the sky.

If only the lighting would hit her, and just take her out…

But she couldn’t rely on that.

The pain pills were in her pocket, a whole bottle of them. She’d gotten them when she’d sprained her ankle years ago, but she’d always been scared of medication, and had never taken a single one of the pills.