The Meeting

The protagonist meets another group of survivors.

I had to punch this one, but thankfully, it was just as flimsy as the last.  The grating popped off with ease, and I slinked out of the duct into the room.

This room was larger, with a couple of computers on desks spaced throughout.  This must be a newsroom or something.  There were papers strewn about randomly, with taped signs on the walls talking about beats and coverage and the ethics of news.  The lights were off, the carpet was a thin blue/red mix, and the walls were taupe.  Not very soothing.

But, primarily, I was alone and that was good.  I must have been in the duct for around 10 minutes, as the clock on the wall read something like 3:25.  I listened for the skittering, for the dragging.

But there was nothing.  Hello, darkness, my old friend!

I really had no business being here, but I did spy a half-eaten 3 Musketeers on one of the tables.  I inhaled it ravenously.  Over the past two days, I had learned that food is definitely a luxury, and candy was like emeralds.  

So good.  Soft, chewy goodness.  I could literally feel the endorphins releasing in my brain�"natural drugs were the best drugs.

I shook off the candy and checked the outside hallway.  Nothing.  So, I made a run for it.  There was an outside door at the end of the hall, so I took it.  After looking to either side, I stepped slowly to the street.  The sun hadn’t faded any at all, and that was good.  It was refreshing to feel the warmth on my face, especially after my adventure through the air conditioner.   

The last time I was on this street was Erica’s birthday party, about two weeks ago.  I just didn’t get to this side of town very often.  But now, it felt even stranger, with no bystanders at all.  It was as if the Rapture had occurred.

Melina wasn’t a metropolis, but it was definitely big enough to be considered a fair city.  I think the population at last count was around one-hundred thirty thousand.  The funny thing was, with all the tax laws (or lack thereof) here, plenty of corporations set up to save some cash.  So downtown Melina was nice, developed, and beautiful.  The buildings lining the streets were still new-looking:  dark glass rose up 15 or 20 stories in some places.  The sharp angles of the buildings made for an architect’s classroom, or at least an architect’s muse.   Streetlights were placed at the intersections, gorgeous works of antique art recreated with modern technology.  I always thought it was funny that the lamps looked like UFOs at the top�"it seems the aliens have landed, now.  This street looked immaculate, compared with Tristan, where the sinkhole was.  Just a few stray papers blowing in the wind.

Peaceful.  Perfectly peaceful. 

It was rather funny�"or, actually, maybe disheartening�"to see that level of beauty abandoned.  No one to sightsee, no one running to work, no hustle and bustle.  Sometimes, it was aggravating to have to fight your way through downtown traffic, but I would trade this for that in a heartbeat.  Now, the abandoned city looked…I don’t know.  I can’t describe it.  To say “like a ghost town” would imply that there’s a few ghosts around.

I assumed that most of the people living and working downtown were part of the first evacuations, once the state of emergency was declared.  But there’s no way that I was the only one here. 

I told you.

No, you didn’t.  You were on my side a minute ago.

You and me are the same, remember?  I can’t think things that you’re not thinking too.

Forget it.  I’ll deal with this later.  

I almost forgot, but I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my list.  There were a few more destinations, but I would have to worry about them later.  Nighttime was always a little rougher than the day.  My primary goal now had to be finding a safe spot for the night.  I had no idea where that may be at this moment.  By now, those things could be anywhere.  

Things.  I mean, people.

I wasn’t really that hungry, but I probably would be before it was bedtime.  And if I didn’t eat again today, then it would have to be pretty high on the list for in the morning.  So, I remembered a convenience store down the street�"another block or two there.  Who knows�"maybe it’ll be secluded and defensible enough where I can stay there.  Two birds, one stone.

So, I began the walk down the street.  Probably a bit slower than I had any business walking, but this was the first time I had been outside all day�"searching that news building had taken a while.  I wanted to enjoy the sunlight, while I had the opportunity.

I turned the corner onto Franklin.  About two steps into the street, and I hear a voice.

“Stop!”  I was being yelled at.  Male voice.  So I froze, instinctively.  “Are you alive?!” was the next sentence.  Which I really thought was funny.

No, I’m  dead.  Just walking, whistling Dixie, dead.

“Hands!”

I was still kind of laughing at the are-you-alive bit.

“HANDS!”

They shot up.  Okay, I was listening.

“Stay there!  We’re sending someone down!”

Well, that’s nice of them.  By what I could tell, the strange people couldn’t talk other than the moaning, so I was 95 percent sure that, barring an extremely fast mutation, these people were human enough for me.

See, I told you.

No way.  You doubted.

Only for a second.  But I always knew.

After another few seconds, a woman stepped onto the street, out of one of the glass rimmed buildings.  She was tall, with legs up to her neck.  Unfortunately, she had on jeans.

“What’s your name?” were the first words out of her mouth.  She was the first human I had seen in a few days, so my charm returned.

“I’m supposed to ask you that, little lady.”

She stopped, but then I think she decided to ignore me.  “Come on.  We’ll talk more upstairs.  We’ve seen a few out here.”

So I followed her.  Didn’t have anything better to do.  And besides, people in a group must be safe, right?

Chocolate and perfect were the two words I kept thinking of when I watched the girl lead me to the elevator.  Chocolate for her hair, perfect for everything else.

“Sorry about back there,” she said.  “I don’t think Raymond meant to scare you.”

I had no idea what she was talking about for a second, until I remembered getting yelled at.

“Uh, sure.  Whatever.  No big deal.”

“Well, I’m sure you understand that we’re trying to be safe.  Don’t know who some people are, or what they want.”  Her voice twinged slightly at that last part.  I just accepted that part silently and followed her to the staircase.

As we started up, she got a little friendlier and told me her name was Simone.  She had lived in Melina her whole life.  She really perked up when I introduced myself.  I just attributed it to seeing someone new after two days of apocalypse.

“Where’d you work?”

“Morton Whitner.  I was a financial consultant.”

“That’s pretty nice.  So were you some kind of big shot office guy, or what?”

“I wish.  No, I wasn’t running the place or anything.  Just a department supervisor.”

“Well, that’s something, right?”  What a smile.

For no reason at all, if you catch my drift, when we turned up the next flight, I slowed for half a second to follow her up the stairs.  

I mean, I wasn’t trying to be too obvious about it, at least.  I’m sure that impending doom had certainly had its effect on my options.  But she was rather attractive, and I hadn’t seen a real, live woman in a while.  All this past tense thought, even in our conversation, was really starting to get disconcerting.

“How much farther?” I asked, almost pleadingly.

“Just another flight.”

“How long have you all been up here?” I asked, after a pause.

“Since the night it happened.  There were only four of us then, but we’ve found a few more other than you.”

“That’s cool.  That’s good, actually.  Did you all know each other before then?”

“Not really,” she said.  “Mary lived in my building for the past few years, but we didn’t know each other.  As for the others, I have no idea.”

We reached a door at the top of the stairs.  Simone gave three loud knocks, and the door opened.  Standing at the door, holding it open, was a massive man.  He had to be at least 6 foot 6, with wide shoulders and balloon muscles.

“We cool?” he said, husky and dry.

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Simone said, almost like she had been psychoanalyzing me all the way up the stairs.

The room looked like a makeshift fort.  It was a pretty big room, for the most part, but it looked like it should be fuller.  A couple cases of food that looked like they had just shipped to a kitchen somewhere were stacked in the corner.  In the other corner were guns; a few pistols sat on the floor and a shotgun was propped against the blank wall.  The room was dark, but the power had been off since it happened, so there wasn’t really anything to do about that.  I couldn’t see a lot else in the room, just a few bodies huddled in the floor by the far wall, and three more standing upright.  The wall at the left was a massive window facing the street.  

Aside from the massive guy, there was another girl, a little shorter than Simone.  Her face was scrunched together, very mouselike, with very light brown hair falling to her shoulders.  In her hand, she brandished a pistol, with her hand on the trigger like she was waiting for something as she looked out the giant window.  Behind her was another guy, toothpick in his mouth.  He looked like he was wasting away, but still rather tall.  He was wearing a ratty-looking t-shirt, jeans, and a frightened expression on his face.  He, unlike the girl, had no weapon.  The only other person awake was the massive guy.

The big guy swallowed.  “I’m Raymond.” He put out his mitt for me to shake, almost as an apology, like I was supremely offended at his earlier actions.  I guess Simone’s word was enough.  

“Paul,” I said, with a brisk shake.  He broke about forty of my fingers.

The girl and toothpick both glanced up at me.  Toothpick kind of smiled, I think.  But the girl was ice, turning back to the window.

I didn’t really have anything else to say at this point, so I just walked in.  I heard Simone whisper something to Raymond, but that was behind me.  I was crossing to the window.  After a minute, I heard footsteps to my right and turned.  It was Toothpick.

“Hey.  I’m Martin.”

“Paul.  Nice to meet you.”

“I wish it was under better circumstances.”  There was an awkward pause, which I couldn’t really blame for anything.

Picture it:  strange things eating people, cities are deserted, and I’m in a room with 7 total strangers with enough ammunition for the police force of a small town.  I can think of way too many better circumstances than that.

“Where you from?”  Toothpick broke the silence.

It was this point that I had a millisecond-long endless debate, evaluating my situation.  I mean, I guess I didn’t really care what people knew about me, but still.  I felt like junior high school, when all the teachers make you stand up and tell the class three interesting facts about yourself.  Like I was a new toy.  And what I told them now, under these circumstances, would pretty much be who I was and what I was doing here.  And even though I didn’t really have anything to hide, I didn’t want to seem too oblivious.  I couldn’t forget my list.

“Plainsfield.”

“Oh, I know where that is.  What brought you here?”

That’s a good question.  “Work.  I worked in town.”  Short answer.

“Make a lot of money?”

“I guess so.  But fat lot of good that did me.”

“Yeah.”  There was another awkward pause, our second in two minutes.  We can’t talk about it yet, I think, because it’s way too soon.  No one’s used to it yet.

“Hey, Paul!”  Simone’s voice broke up me and Toothpick.  “You want something to eat?  We have a little.”

Food sounded great.  Aside from that 3 Musketeers, I hadn’t found anything in a day.  So I agreed and Simone opened a granola bar and tossed it to me.

“Sit down, Paul, take it easy.”  Raymond’s voice was so deep, he reminded me of Johnny Cash.

And so, for the first time in a long time, I sat and rested.  Simone sat on the computer desk in front of me.  

“That’s Raymond,” she said, nodding toward the big guy in the corner that crushed my hand; he was counting the guns.

“Yeah, I figured that one.”

“And I see that you met Martin, too.  He’s seems alright.  We found him not too long before we found you.”

“Always gnawing on that toothpick?”

“Yeah, I’m guessing a smoker’s habit.”

“Sure, I’ve seen the type.  What about the three in the corner?”

“Oh, yeah.  They’re second watch.  Once we decided to stay here�"“

“Stay here?”  I couldn’t help it.  I didn’t mean to cut her off, but I was just shocked at her frankness.  I didn’t quite figure out how to say the next part the way I wanted to.  “What?  How long?”

Her smooth skin furrowed.  “Uh…”  She trailed off.  “Yeah.  I think so.”

I grasped what I had said.  “Yeah.  Okay, I didn’t mean to interrupt.  Go ahead.”

She stuck to it.  “Well, I mean, where should we go?”

“Just forget it.  I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Simone paused, and for the first time, I really thought that we had a connection, because I could swear that the look on her face was empathy.   When her look faded, she had found some more words.  “So, what was I saying?”

“Talking about why we were here.”

“Yeah,” she said.

“And I was asking about the three people over there.”

“Yeah, that’s it.  They’re the second watch.  We just decided that if we were going to stay up here for a while, that it might be good to keep a constant watch in case there was help out on the streets.”

“Oh, hell no.  You heard the broadcast, right?  They’re not coming back.  Screw us all,” I said, definitely wearing my sarcasm on my sleeve.  When the holes appeared, about a day later, the city was sealed and barricaded, with armed guards placed at the exits.  They knew there were some people left behind, but they weren’t ordered to care, so they didn’t.  Simone smirked.

“Call it wishful thinking, then,” she said.  Then, something clicked.  “So, why were you still in the city?”

S**t.  More dodging.

“Just didn’t make it out in time.  I had some loose ends to take care of, and I just didn’t make it out of the gates.”

“Business calls that were that important?” she asked, and now her empathy had a spice of skepticism.

“Yeah, actually.”  And I left it at that.  

Author's Note

It ends a little abruptly, I know...I believe I originally intended to have another little bit after this. It could work as-is, but...it may need something.

That said, thanks for reading, and any comments are welcome!