Linda Andrews - The Meltdown

“Then start yakking.” Henry uncrossed his legs and set his feet on the rests. “Unless I miss my guess this is the first time you’ve been in a gun fight.”

The preacher’s blue eyes locked with Manny’s for a moment before he was dismissed. Something niggled at the back of his mind. The man seemed familiar but that couldn’t be, he wasn’t even a practicing Catholic let alone whatever faith preachers led.

Henry brushed his fingers across the back of Manny’s hand. “You’re slipping away son.”

He shook off the memory and focused on the present. Words. He needed to find the magic words that would untangle the ball. “It’s not right.”

Plain words. Simple words. A child’s truth, yet the pressure eased a bit. He didn’t seem to be pushing against a steel shirt when he breathed.

“No one ever said it would be.” Henry rested one hand on the brake of his wheelchair.

“It’s not fair.” They should have been safe with the soldiers. “Why isn’t it?”

“No one tries to make it so. We’re too busy living our lives to care about our neighbors. I lived next to Denise Powers for years, knew her husband, Trent was a cheating asshole, but didn’t want to interfere and look what happened? That bastard Trent snuck back into our neighborhood and killed her, making it look like a suicide. For all I know, he got away with it.”

Manny nodded. He’d witnessed Trent Powers throw the beat-up body of another neighbor over the balcony so the rats could eat her. “Exactly, how can you believe in a God that would allow someone like that to live.”

Wheelchair Henry frowned. “Who says God has anything to do with it?”

“Some fat guy. He was saying how this whole thing…” Manny opened his arms to include the burning city, the black skies and the dead, “this was God’s judgment upon us and if we didn’t repent and agree to only follow the Preacher guy, then we were going to hell.”

“Sounds like a load of bullshit to me.”

“Yeah.” But some folks nodded; a few even said amens. Manny rocked back on his heels. Rini had called the man an idiot, but Beth had paled and asked to leave. “That’s why we helped you instead of attending the service for the soldiers.”

“Earning your way into heaven, were you?”

“What? No!” He’d never get into Heaven. He’d brought home the Redaction from Juvenile Hall that had killed his parents and older brothers and sisters. Even if he spent a lifetime, he’d never work off that debt. But he could try.

Wheelchair Henry flicked the parking brake off and on. “Why did you help Rini when she showed up all beaten and broken on your doorstep, knowing the gang would find you through her?”

“She’s my best friend’s sister.” He shifted under the old man’s gaze. A best friend with whom he’d jacked a car that had crashed. He’d gone from the hospital to Juvenile Hall. His best friend had gone from the driver’s seat to the morgue. Guilt may have played a tiny part in letting her inside.

“And Beth Goodman?” Wheelchair Henry jabbed the air in the direction of the girl with black hair and red roots. “I knew her dad from his work at the Mission. He always preached that fire and brimstone twaddle. You helped her after she shot at us.”

“She’s just a kid.” A couple years younger than him. And without her goth make-up looked so much younger. “Besides, she’d just been attacked by some pervert.”

Cold sweat misted his skin. Nowhere was safe. Not with the soldiers, not in a church. Maybe that fat man was right. Maybe this was God’s punishment. But if that were so, then why was he still alive? Among everyone around him, he deserved to die.

“So everyone deserves forgiveness but you?” Wheelchair Henry goaded.

Manny pawed his chest until he found the gun strap, then he hung on. He stared at the medical truck as it rolled by. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about survivor’s guilt. You’ve got it bad and it’ll get you killed if you don’t start dealing with it.”

He fell back a step. God, was it written on his face? Could everyone see it?

“The disease that killed your parents wasn’t your fault, Manny.”

He opened his mouth but no words came out.

Wheelchair Henry held up his hand. “The niños told us about it. They don’t blame you, not one little bit. Hell, Mikey and Mary think you walk on water for saving them.”

Heat swarmed his face. “I didn’t do much.”

There hadn’t been much food to share when the soldiers stopped coming around.

“You did a hell of a lot. Them kids would probably be dead by now if you hadn’t taken ‘em in and you know it.” Henry thumped on his chest. “In here, you know it. You’re a good person Manny. You need to let go of the guilt or it will eat you alive.”

The older man’s praise chased the chill from his skin. If only it were that simple. Maybe, if he really was a good man… But he wouldn’t lie to his friend. “I’m only helping them in case something happens to me then… then the niños… they’ll…”

He choked on the words and couldn’t swallow them down.

Henry smiled.

“I think it’s brilliant.” Mavis Spanner stopped next to him and placed her hands on her hips. “Your actions may seem selfish, but they worked for the greater good. To help give your brother and sister a better life, you’re helping someone else. In short, you’re doing exactly as I hoped everyone would, building a civilization where the strong take care of the weak, the young, and the ill.”

The fat man’s words smashed through her speech. That dirty Benedict guy hadn’t thought much of helping anyone but himself. In fact, he seemed to imply that people needing help shouldn’t be given it. “Not everyone’s selfishness would be so nice.”

“True. There will always be wolves in the flock, just as there are dogs to stand guard.” She gestured to the rifle on his shoulder. “I think we know which group you belong to.”

He shook his head. She wouldn’t be saying things like that if she knew his past. He gripped the strap. He wasn’t worthy. He should give the gun back. He tightened his hold.

“Well, I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation.” She shoved her hair out of her eyes. “I just wanted you to know that I appreciate your volunteering and to let you know the trucks will be here in a couple minutes.”

She pointed to the glowing pair of headlights that popped up over the hill in the distance. “There has been some… mistreatment, so you may want to help just the men and the little, little kids.”

Manny swallowed hard. Mistreatment. His gaze skipped to Rini and Beth. They knew first hand about mistreatment.

She handed a tablet to Henry. “But you’re the expert, I’ll let you decide who goes where.”

Smiling sadly, she left to join the guys with the bows and arrows.

The lit screen cast a ghostly glow on Henry. “This is a nightmare. And I’m leaving these cases to you, Rini and Beth because, quite frankly, the idea of dealing with ‘em scares the Bejesus out of me.”

Manny tensed. What could give the old man nightmares? “Wh-what is it?”

“Teenagers.” He shuddered and squeezed his eyes closed. “Scariest thing on God’s green Earth.”

“Look at the sunset.” Papa Rose set his forearms on the steering wheel and stared through the windshield of the Toyota Prius. Bright pink sky burst through the black clouds and tinted the raindrops clinging to the glass.

In the passenger seat, Olivia snuggled deeper in the silver emergency blanket. The lightweight fabric rustled and dark lashes spiked against her tan skin. “I don’t care.”

His chest pinched. Poor kid. Falcon had to drag her kicking and screaming away from her mother’s corpse and shove her inside the car. Papa Rose had her buckled and on the move before she could escape. “Now, don’t say that.”