19: Addison

Addison

 

          The duo that made their way down the causeway were a very strange sight. A skinny girl with torn jeans and a hasty ponytail pushed a large flat-bed dolly cart carefully amongst the abandoned vehicles. The wheels shuddered and creaked against the concrete. Slumped on the dolly, with one arm hooked around the large steel push handle was a soldier with his sidearm in his right hand. The man's head bobbed limply across the front of his chest as the cart rolled.

          Addison's legs were screaming from the exertion of pushing the dolly first up the causeway and now trying to ensure it didn't run away from her on the way down. They neared the bottom of the slope, and she couldn't have been more grateful. Heavy beads of sweat tickled her temples and the base of her hairline. "Damian," she whispered, bringing the cart to a stop.

          "What's up, kid?" the man said very weakly.

          "There's the hospital. I can take you to it." The Wuestoff's tall angular structure rose less than a half mile away. The palest light was kissing the eastern horizon, revealing the dark hospital from the dark backdrop of an powerless city.

          "No point," Damian told her. "The power's been out for nearly a day and a half. All that high tech medical equipment is useless. There's no reason to go there. I'm sure most of the doctors jumped ship, and those who didn't are probably in way over their heads trying to keep order in a powerless facility full of sick, dying, and frightened. It'd be more dangerous to go in there than it's worth. What else is around here? Any drug store, Walgreens or CVS or something?" His fingers grazed his side pocket as he said this.

          "Yeah, there's a CVS, but it's on the other side of Merritt Island. Why, what do you need?"

          "Painkillers and something for my wrist." He lifted his left arm. "Sprained it more likely than broke it, but it's not much use to me like this."

          "Will a Walmart work? There's one just down the road. I'm sure they'd have everything you needed. It has a pharmacy and everything."

          "Okay, can you get us there before the sun comes up? I'd rather not be caught out in the daylight."

         Addison's body was still sore from pushing him this far, but she didn't see much other choice. "Sure."

          A sliver of blue reached out at the ends of the sky and wrapped around, chasing away the darkness. The stars retreated as a warming teal bled into night. Clouds were a grainy grey-green until the first rays of direct sunlight painted them in a soft pink and purple. Addison could see the large Walmart warehouse, but she had to take a breather. Her legs simply refused to push any further. She leaned forward, putting her hands on her knees and panting. Sweat dripped from her face. She felt sweaty, grimy, greasy, and dirty. Part of her was vaguely away that she hadn't showered since before the attacks. When they got to the Walmart, that would be one of her first priorities even if that mean using a bathroom sink.

          "Catch your breath, then we have to keep moving. It's getting brighter every minute and we stick out."

          "Really? I had no idea," she said, still panting. "I forgot how much work you were doing to help."

          Damian said nothing.

          After a few minutes, her body felt a little less haggard, and she wrapped her hands around the sweaty push handle to trudge on. The cart rolled along the bumpy asphalt, skimming the bottom on a small drainage culvert. The vast parking lot had a fair amount of empty vehicles. Some were broken into, others were simply just broken. One BMW was trashed and dented and covered in food. She didn't understand why.

          "Looters. Keep your eyes open," Damian warned her, his eyes no longer glassy and vacant. His right index finger rested just above the trigger guard of his nine-millimeter. As they approached closer, the volume of litter and debris grew. Cardboard boxes of a multitude of items including TVs, toasters, and food rustled in the light breeze. Rotting food and spilled drinks stained the asphalt or decorated vehicles. A spent fire extinguisher rest at the end of a long trail of white congealing foam and grease. Crows nipped at bits of the trash and food. The sliding automatic doors beneath both the main entrance and the grocery entrance had been smashed in. The first glimmer of the sun was sparkling off millions of crystals of glass.

          "Go to the pharmacy," Damian said. Addison wheeled him toward the main entrance. He grunted as the cart bumped on the curb. They reached the door and part of her expected it to slide open as it always had, but the bent metal frames stood firm.

          "Maybe there's a loading dock around back," she suggested wearily.

          "That'll take too much time," Damian said. He gingerly slid his legs over the side of the cart and planted his boots on the ground. With the care of an extremely old and fragile man, he brought himself up to his feet.

          "Damian," Addison protested softly but he waved her off.

          "Which way is the pharmacy?" he asked, grabbing a small light from one of his pouches. The growing sunlight illuminated the concrete-floored entryway with a broken Redbox machine and overturned vending machines, but beyond that the windowless warehouse became unsettlingly dark.

          "It's to the right once you go in. It's not far." She found herself feeling very nervous about entering into the store she had been in hundreds of times. It seemed foreboding and dangerous now. Damian lifted a foot over the remnants of glass along the bottom of the sliding door and ducked under the jagged edges on top. Addison reached out suddenly and grabbed at his arm. "Damian, I'm scared," she said, hating how pathetic she sounded.

          He looked at her for a moment, his eyes blank. "Come on," he said. Reluctantly, Addison stepped through the broken door as well. Carts were disheveled in the entryway. Some were piled high with goods but most were empty. The second set of doors that led into the actual store were more busted than the first, and a smear of blood was dried on the tile.

          "Damian," Addison pleaded, her hands wrapping around his arm.

          Damian nudged her off and put his finger to his lips. With a trembling lip, Addison nodded and followed. The darkness seemed to swallow them. Frantically, Addison turned back towards the entrance where the sun's light had become so bright it made her squint. The grey light stretched out almost to the registers but every foot away from the door it came, it grew dimmer and less comforting. Damian was extremely slow in his gait. He was taking small, measured steps. Addison barely had to move to keep up, and that made her even more nervous. She wanted to get in and get out as quickly as possible.

          Damian pulled down the night vision optics on his helmet over his left eye. There was a tiny click as he turned the knob.

          "What about the flashlight," Addison whispered, praying that she wouldn't be left in the dark.

          "Emergencies only," Damian responded in little more than a gasp. Addison saw a small glimmer by the display of roses and flowers that ran along the wall. She cautiously moved forward, seeing it was a golf club. The head was slightly dented and part of the shaft angled, but it seemed solid enough. She gripped it tightly in her right hand toward the very base. Clumsily, she gave it a test swing. The club nearly flung from her grasp. Damian clicked his tongue at her.

          She turned, feeling a warmth of embarrassment flood to her cheeks. The Delta operative held up two fingers, then mimed holding the club with two hands. Addison nodded and placed her left hand directly above her right hand. It still didn't feel right. It felt unnatural and clumsy. She thought about softball and it clicked. She switched her grip and widened the distance between her hands. Now, with her grip familiar with that she had used when at bat, she felt more confident.

          Her eyes began to adjust, peeling away the absolute darkness. It was as if a dark grey filter had been placed over her eyes, but at least she could see slightly. Her shoe crunched against grains of glass that spread across the tile from the smashed jewelry cases across from the rows of registers. Addison took a few steps forward and leaned to peer into the remnants of the displays. There was nothing left apart from the satin white cloth that covered the shelves. She turned back to see Damian limping very slowly. She pointed down the store to where the pharmacy was and he gave a slight nod. It became impossible not to tread over wasted products and things, just random things, that carpeted the floor. Addison's shoe became sticky after stepping in a hardening puddle of Nyquil. The closer the pair moved toward the pharmacy, the more a strangely sweet and perfumed odor become pronounced. Addison assumed that many of the soaps and gels from the health and beauty section nearby had been opened or dumped. She couldn't fathom as to why and chalked it up to hysteria.

          A counter inset on the wall under block letters revealed their goal. Addison could barely make out the shapes, but she knew it read pharmacy. She wheeled around to tell Damian she found it, but he had his sights already trained on it. In his armor lined with bulging pouches, hard-knuckled gloves, and helmet with a cylindrical protrusion jutting from his life eye, he looked more alien to her than human. The pained, shuffling twitch-walk he was doing didn't help.

          "Do you see a door around here to get into the back?" he asked as he shuffled forward. There was, but it was locked and wouldn't budge as Addison twisted the knob.

          "I'll juts climb in," she offered. She set the bent club on the counter and pulled herself onto the ledge backwards, so her legs dangled.

          "Wait."

          "No, it's fine," she cut him off. "I'll just get you some pain meds and get out. Give me your flashlight."

          He set the black LED flashlight onto the counter as Addison slid herself onto the other side of the window. "Don't let that light shine through the window too much," he warned.

          "I've got this," she replied tartly.

          She ignored his expression of embitterment and snatched the light from the countertop. The light clicked on, illuminating rows of shelves that had once held an organized assortment of prescription medications. Many of the boxes were opened, cardboard flaps hanging limply. A few orange cylindrical bottles with white caps still attached skittered across the floor as she walked. The harsh oval of light stretched and pulled as it danced over the remnants of Wal-Mart's pharmaceutical offerings. On the shelves she didn't see any Vicodin, which was the only prescription pain killer she knew by name. "Damian," she called out.

          "Keep your voice down."

          "Sorry. I don't see any Vicodin. Would Tylenol or Advil work? I think we can find those out by the cold and flu stuff, but it wouldn't be back here." She knelt and read the labels on some of the orange pill bottles. "Here's Lunesta, Norvir, Adacel, Percocet."

          "Yes," his voice came from behind her. He was leaning against counter facing away. "Those."

          She rattled the bottle, causing two dozen little white pills to dance within. "Okay, anything else?"

          "No!" a strained voice called out, grabbing her arm. She screamed and dropped the light and in an instant everything went dark.

          "You can't have them," a shaky high-pitched voice cried. "Don't take them from me!" Thin fingers attached to clammy hands clasped and unclasped around her arms and shirt in spastic motions. The feelings of a stranger's hands on her made all of her hairs stand on end and she screamed as loud as should could. Addison curled into a ball and tried to push away her assailant. "Don't leave me in the dark alone!" the pitchy voice shrieked.

          "Get off me!" Addison wailed, slamming her palm into the sharp edges of a thin jaw that was coarse with stubble. Greasy hair that was not her own dangled into her face, tickling her nose and cheeks in the most uncomfortable way. Screaming again Addison began to kick wildly, hitting a few shelves in the process and toppling boxes.

          "You won't take them, will you?" the voice asked her, hands grasping wildly and indiscriminately. "Tell me you won't!"

          "I won't," Addison yelled. "I won't, get off! Get off!"

          The body vanished from atop her. Shaking violently, Addison reached for the flashlight which had spun uselessly toward a wall in the struggle. She quickly aimed at in front of her. An incredibly scrawny man who was either in his late teens or early twenties shied away from the light, pushing himself into the corner. His sallow cheeks were flushed but the rest of his taut skin was slick and a sickly green. Dark bruises lingered under his eyes and his lips were too red. Long unwashed hair clung to his scalp in heavy mattes that snaked down to his shoulders. His eyes were bloodshot and dilated, hardly flinching from the light. He wrung his hands nervously together and bit anxiously at his severely chapped lips, causing a small bubble of blood to rise. He was shaking nearly as bad as she was.

          Addison scrambled back against the opposite wall, never taking the light off him.

          "Don't take the candy," the man plead, reaching for a pill bottle. "It keeps all the monsters away. I don't want them to come, I'm all alone and they'll come." His eyes darted around with extreme suspicion around the pharmacy shelves.

          "I just need one bottle," Addison stammered. "It's to help someone who's been hurt," she added.

         The man frowned, and she winced as he peeled a jagged flake of white flesh from his lower lip.

          "It's not to keep the monsters away?" he asked.

          Addison backpedaled quickly. "No, no, it is. I see the monsters, too. And the, uh, candy, does keep them away. It keeps me safe. I was hoping you would share some of it with me, so I could be safe, too." Her heart was hammering in her throat and her skin still prickled with goose bumps in the aftermath of his unwanted touch.

          "You see them, too?" he asked, his voice cracking in a high octave as his eyes lit up.

          "Yes," Addison said with a voice so fake she didn't even fool herself. "Absolutely. I like the white candy in that bottle there." She pointed to the bottle of Percocet that lay against the wall. Slowly, she moved forward, actively watching the deranged man. He made no motion to stop her. Her hand shot out like a striking cobra to grab the bottle, then retracted it close to her chest.

          The man's eyes suddenly began to loosely flow with tears. "Will you make them go away?" he asked, his voice choked and pathetic. "Will you make them all go away?"

          Addison felt a tug of pity creeping into her. Red splotches flared over the man's upper eye lids as he wept. "Please," he begged. "Please, can you make them leave me alone? I don't want to be scared anymore."

          She didn't know what to say, but she never had the chance to think of a reply. A pair of muddy, heavy boots moved in front of her. Damian now blocked Addison from the man whimpering against the wall.

          "Go back through the window," he commanded. There was something in his voice, some new strength and authority, that chilled Addison to the core. She didn't dare argue. She placed a hand onto the counter and used it to help herself onto her feet. Standing directly behind the Delta operator who had brought himself to full height, she realized how much smaller than him she was. Slowly, she straddled the window and slid out into the main store warehouse. She switched off the flashlight and was enveloped in darkness. The only sound she could hear was the quick-tempo of her racing heart. Moments of pure silence went by. She wasn't sure if it was one minute or five. All she knew was that she didn't dare to move or speak. Something bumped behind the blocked pharmacy door, and then it swung open and Damian stepped through. She couldn't see him, but she knew it was him.

          "Let's go," he said.