Dissonance - Book One

forty-one

We make it past Sacramento, or what's left of it, before the fuel light comes on. We pull off at an exit and head towards the nearest gas station. Between the three of us, we have $35. That should buy us enough gas to make it close to my aunt and uncle's home, but it's not enough for food, which we desperately need. As if on cue, my stomach rumbles loudly as we pull into the station. The car isn't the only thing running on empty.

The gas station is deserted; there's not a soul in sight. It's like a scene from one of those creepy end-of-the-world movies. There's so much right now that feels surreal, like this is just another one of my bad dreams and I'll wake up at any moment, but the grumbling in my stomach tells me otherwise, so we head inside.

"Hello!" Wyler hollers. "Heeeeellllllooooooo!"

There's no reply.

We check the bathrooms and the back room where the employees would normally be, but there's no one to be found. Several of the shelves look like they've been raided.

"We might as well," Wyler says, nodding towards the ransacked aisles.

None of us hesitate. We're in survival mode and we're starving. We fill our arms with chips, candy, drinks and any other food items we can find. It's not exactly the healthiest selection, but all that matters now is getting some sustenance.

Wyler stacks several jugs of water by the door to load into the car while I grab some toilet paper, two lighters, aspirin and bandages. It feels odd stealing. I have a moment where I wonder, when all of this is over, will the police go through the surveillance tape and arrest us? While my moral compass is teetering back and forth, Lex doesn't seem to be thinking twice about our crimes. I find her rummaging through the magazine aisle with armfuls of medicine spilling out onto the floor.

"Really?" I say, rolling my eyes as she grabs People magazine's sexiest man alive issue. A shirtless photo of Bodhi Easton, Hollywood's "IT" boy, graces the cover. "I hardly think it matters who Bodhi Easton is dating now that the world is collapsing."

"Well you never know. With all the people that have been wiped out, maybe I'll finally stand a chance."

It's a poor joke, considering how many lives have been lost in the last few hours, yet I can't help but chuckle. It feels good to laugh. Lex's attitude might seem callous, given all that's happened, but I know her well enough to understand that she's hurting inside and she's using humor as a way to stay strong. She developed a thick skin a long time ago when her parents got divorced. Her dad was too busy with his new family to stay in touch and her mom was too drunk most of the day to stay conscious. Acting tough, and laughing through difficult times, is her way of surviving, and it will serve her well given our current situation.

"Is all that medicine necessary?" I say, eyeing the stack in her arms.

"What happens if one of us gets hurt?" she replies, trying to sound serious, but failing miserably.

I grab a bottle of caffeine pills from her stash and raise my eyebrows in disbelief that her need to clean out the medicine aisle is over her concern that someone might get "hurt."

"Well we gotta have a little fun," she says, grabbing the pills out of my hand and stuffing them in her pocket. "Which reminds me..." she walks to the front of the store and grabs a plastic bag from behind the counter. She stuffs her items inside, grabs a few packs of cigarettes, then heads to the cooler where she takes several packs of beer. I've never had alcohol. Watching drunk teens stumble around, slurring their words and puking, was enough to tell me it wasn't for me. Lex on the other hand, was the queen of the keg. She was famous for her parties when her mom was out of town and even more famous for her two minute keg stand.