All Is Silence - Deserted Lands #1

Chapter 19 - Part III

MANNIE STIRRED HIS COFFEE. THE light outside had disappeared except for the street lamps shining through the curtains. Neither of them had bothered to get up and turn on the lights. “I’d given up on seeing Elizabeth.” His voice was soft and he could feel his throat tightening. “I messed things up pretty bad. The PTSD and the alcohol led to drugs…” He shook his head. “I wasn’t myself. Took me years to get back to figuring out who I was. By then I’d burned my bridges. When I got set up down here, I tried to call once. Somebody named Doug answered. Said he’d tell Lizzie. That was all I had in me. Figured she was better off.”

Jess broke the long silence. “Doug was a jerk. Lizzie loved your music collection. We used to watch the ‘80s movies in your DVD collection.”

Mannie wiped his eyes and crossed to the light switch. “Mind if I turn the light on?”

“No.” Jess’ eyes were red and damp.

He set his empty coffee cup by the sink. Then, remembering his manners, picked it back up and rinsed it. “Thanks for the food. Figured tomorrow we might make it to Albuquerque. About five, six hours on the road.”

“Sounds good.”

She stood awkwardly.

“Well, I’m gonna find myself a room.”

“Oh, I got you a key to the room across the hall.” Jess grinned. “Figured out the computer system all by myself.” She handed him a keycard.

“Thanks.” When he turned to leave Jess jumped forward and hugged him tight. Her body shook and the tears from earlier turned into sobs. He held her close and ran his fingers gently through her hair. “Go ahead; cry it out.”

“I never cried. Not when Grampa died. Nor Papa. Or Mamma.

Her eyes were big and tear-filled. He found himself saying, “It’s all right…” Even though the words meant little.

Eventually her body stopped shaking. She sniffed and gently shifted. Mannie released her and dug in his pockets for a handkerchief. But the hanky was bloody. He offered her the Dairy Queen napkin. She took it and noisily blew her nose.

“Thanks, Mr.— Mannie. Lizzie’s lucky.”

“Maybe. But I think I’m luckier. Didn’t think I’d get a second chance.” He held up the room key. “Thanks again. You got a time you want to leave?”

“Not really. Been waking up early. I used to sleep in. But now, I wake with the light.”

“Me, too. Good night.”

“Good night, Mannie.”

“Jess. It’s gonna be okay.”

“I hope so.”

He left the room and crossed the hallway. It’s gonna be okay. How did such flimsy words have the strength to keep people hanging on when things went completely to shit

*      *      *

Lizzie’s head nodded as the truck hit the endless bumps on the freeway south of Seattle. The last thing she saw as her head dropped against the seat was the row of planes sitting idle at Boeing Field.

The squeal of brakes woke her abruptly.

“Holy crap. Would you look at that?” Zach stared straight ahead.

Lizzie followed his gaze. A couple of tigers, the size of small horses, padded patiently across the freeway. The Tank’s approach and its skidding stop had not disturbed them.

Zach glanced back at Lizzie. “I guess that’s what the guy meant about watch out for Tacoma.”

Lizzie watched the graceful cats cross into the median. “You think someone let out the big animals like we let out the pets?”

“Looks like it.” Nev said.

Lizzie yawned. “Let’s take that as a sign not to stop in Tacoma.”

“Suits me.” Zach eased forward, passing the cats.

Lizzie’s brain was still trying to wrap itself around how many people were left. “One percent,” she muttered, doing mental calculations. “I think there were about 100,000 in Bellingham, but I have no clue about the rest of Whatcom County. Which means, what… 1000 survivors? Total? In Bellingham?”

Zach gave a low whistle.

Nev gaped. “At Bellingham High School we had 950 students. That’s no more people left than fit in the gym.”

Zach whistled and did his drum roll on the dashboard. “And how many are like our buddy, Spike, back there?” Spike’s head popped up. “Hey, Spike. We’re talking about you, aren’t we?”

“I still don’t know what it means,” Lizzie said.

“What do you mean, ‘what it means’?” Zach shook his head. “It means shit. It means the human race is pretty screwed.”

“Or does it finally mean we’re not? No more population problems, a lot less cars on the road...”

“I dunno,” Zach drawled. “I’m a hick from Sedro-Woolley. But I know India had more honor students last year than we had students!” He smiled.

“You mean like, all of a sudden there is enough gas?” Nev smiled. “And enough water.”

“And enough beer.” Zach laughed.

Nev chuckled and dug a finger into his rib. “Course, I was hoping for a track scholarship and then a B.A. in B.S. There goes my chance to charm some rich guy into marrying me. Money isn’t worth what it used to be.”

“But now a guy can shower you with diamonds after a quick trip to a jewelry store.” Zach winked at Nev and she blushed.

Lizzie intentionally ignored them and continued her calculations. “40,000 people left in the Seattle area. How many people in the whole world? Before this, I mean.”

“Over seven billion, I think.” Nev took up the calculation. “a billion is a one with nine zeroes, one percent of that is a one with seven zeroes, right? Ten million for every billion. Doesn’t really seem like we’re in that rough of a place. Not like extinction watch.”

“What’re we going to do,” Zach asked, “once we connect with your dad and Jess?”

Lizzie had no answer. “No idea. Where is it safe? Where do we find people we want to hang out with? Where do we want to go? Northwest Washington is a decent place. No tornados, hurricanes.”

“We’ve got flooding,” Zach said.

Lizzie nodded. “In the lowlands.”

“And volcanos,” Nev said.

Zach grinned. “In the highlands.”

Lizzie pressed on. “But that didn’t stop any of us from living there before, right?”

“We could drive across the country like nomads.” Zach tapped the dashboard gently. “I like this big hulking, gas-guzzling vehicle.”