Tim Washburn - The Day After Oblivion

West Virginia

After sleeping on the floor—neither had a hankering for sleeping on the blood-soaked bed—Zane and Alyx stir awake with the first light of the day. With the smoke in the atmosphere, the sun hasn’t made much of an appearance since the madness began. But still, the sun’s rays do brighten the world. Zane rolls over, stands up, and begins searching the kitchen. Alyx, raking her fingers through her hair, walks into the kitchen. “I’m going outside to pee. I’ll look around for a cellar.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Zane says, pulling open drawers. In one he finds more ammunition for the pistol, which he sets aside. Opening the bottom drawer, he finds two boxes of shotgun shells. “Pay dirt,” he mutters. He exits the kitchen and slips down the hallway, turning into the first bedroom. He rummages through the closet, checks behind the doors, and comes up empty. Stepping back out into the hallway, he inhales two deep breaths and opens the door to the second bedroom.

With the windows open, the odor has diminished somewhat, but still lingers and probably will for weeks. The mattress cover is stained with bodily fluids and the flies are busy at work. He debates moving the mattress outside, but he’s eager to find the shotgun. After checking behind the doors, he wades into the overflowing closet. The man had been relegated to one tiny corner, the rest is jammed with dresses, shoes, and handbags—all cheaply made items, by the look of them. Behind a hanging rod jammed with dresses, he finds the shotgun. He pulls it out and carries it into the kitchen for a closer look.

The gun is an ancient double-barrel and he cracks the breech open. Although old, the shotgun has been well cared for, the barrel covered by a thin layer of oil. Which seems strange when Zane considers how far back it was tucked in the closet. Most people with weapons prefer them close at hand. But around here people most likely slept with their doors unlocked, much like the door to this house, Zane reasons. He shrugs and sights down the inside of the barrel and finds it smooth and clean. He lowers the weapon and steps over to the counter, where he slides in two shells and closes the breech. He glances out the window to see Alyx racing around the side of the house.

She eases the door open and hurries across the carpeted floor, coming to a stop next to Zane, whispering, “Someone’s coming down the road.”

“How many?”

“I saw three. Two men and a woman.”

Zane holds up the shotgun. “They don’t know this house doesn’t belong to us.”

“What if there are more?”

He steps over to the coffee table to retrieve the pistol. He quickly reloads the two spent cartridges and tries to hand the pistol to Alyx. She holds her palms against her chest. “I don’t know how to shoot that thing.”

“It’s easy. It’s a double-action revolver. All you have to do is pull the trigger.” He glances up to look through the window. “I’d really like you to cover me from inside the house.”

“Why don’t we take what food we can find and just leave?” Alyx whispers.

Zane steps closer to the window and peeks outside. He turns back to Alyx. “It’s too late. Pick up the gun.” He cocks the shotgun and steps out on the porch as the three people round the bend in the road. Luckily for Zane they’re all bunched up. They stop when they spot the shotgun aimed at their midsections. “Turn around and keep walking,” Zane says.

One of the men breaks from the group, taking two steps forward.

“Come any closer and I’ll blow a hole in your midsection large enough for your friends to put a hand through.”

The man, with long, stringy hair and a full beard, stops. A small smile forms on his lips, sending a chill down Zane’s spine. “That ain’t no way to treat your fellow man. All we want is a little food.”

“We don’t have any food. Now get the hell out of here.”

The man jabs a finger in the air. “I’ll remember your face. Maybe we’ll meet up down the road.” He winks then turns and walks away, the other two following.

The shotgun never wavers in Zane’s hand. He tracks their progress until they disappear from sight. With the shotgun still braced against his shoulder, he backs his way toward the door. “Alyx, we’ll go with your plan. Gather up all the food you can find.”

Inside, Alyx scurries around the kitchen, throwing canned goods into her backpack. Once the pantry is cleaned out, she picks the revolver up and looks at it. After a moment of indecision, she tucks it into the waistband of her jeans and stuffs the pistol ammunition into the backpack. Slinging it over her shoulder, she makes her way to the door. “What about the smocks?” she whispers through the door.

“Leave them. We should be safe from radiation now. And I need to be able to maneuver.”

“Should we wait? Let them put some distance between us?”

Zane lowers the shotgun and steps through the door. “I don’t know, Alyx. My gut is telling me they’re not going anywhere. They could sit out there and wait us out for days.” Zane appears calm and collected, but inside, his heart is hammering. “Did you see a water well when you were out?”

“Yeah, but it’s attached to an electric pump.”

“No telling how deep the well is. It could take forever to pull the pipe and slip a bucket down there. And we’re now out of time.” Zane moves into the kitchen and takes a peek out the back door. “We could be walking into a firefight if we go out front.” He spots an old ramshackle barn about two hundred yards behind the house.

“What did you see while you were outside?”

“Mostly more junk. But there’s an old barn out there.”

“I’m looking at it. Did you see any trails leading away from it? A way out?”

“If there are trails or tire tracks, they’re overgrown.”

Zane strides across the room and takes a position near the front window while his brain clicks through possible scenarios. Although Zane spent four years in the army and served one tour in Iraq, he has never been involved in close-quarters combat, other than a few training sessions with dummy bullets. Mostly he worked computers in the intelligence section, but even now the shotgun feels comfortable in his hands. He longs for a pump shotgun that can be loaded with six shells. But it is what it is. He returns to the counter and shoves a handful of shells into his pocket before putting the remaining ammo into his backpack “If we stay here they could burn us out. I like our chances outside. But we’re not going to be stupid about it. We’re going out the back door to the barn. We’ll stay low, keeping the house between the road and us. You’ll go first and I’ll follow a moment later. Sound like a plan?”

“What if there’s not another way out once we get there?”

“Then we’re moving through the tree line, back to the main road.”

Alyx groans.

Zane tightens the straps of her backpack and leans down and kisses her. “Only options we have. Ready?”

Alyx nods and follows Zane to the back door. Zane slings his backpack over his shoulder and cinches down the straps. It’s heavy with all the canned goods stuffed inside, but it’s either grin and bear it or leave the food behind. He eases the door open far enough for them to slip through and gently closes it. He moves Alyx around to the front, allowing him the ability to shoot behind them. He taps her on the shoulder and Alyx takes off like a rabbit. And that’s when he realizes his first mistake—the canned goods are loud in the silence as they clatter around in her backpack. He winces and follows a moment later as they race toward the barn. The grass is hip high, making running difficult. A shot rings out behind them and Zane stops and drops to a knee, the shotgun coming up. He fires both barrels toward the far side of the house, where the shot had come from and pops the breech to reload. He glances behind him to see Alyx disappearing inside the barn.