Anyone? (12 page)

It looked beat to hell—more so than when I actually dropped
it on the roof of the apartment building and broke the screen—but the dirty
cell phone still clung to the cigarette lighter. Barely. I’d never completely bought
into miracles, but as I held my phone in one hand, my cat in the other, all
while sitting in a car in the only intact building on the block, how could I
not?

“Just do it already.” Cole pointed to the phone. “What are
you waiting for?”

What am I waiting for?

I pressed the on button and the backlight glowed. I checked
to see if any new messages had come in, though I realized the nil probability. As
I expected, the screen didn’t blink. No new texts. Nothing. Still, I had hoped.

I played the saved messages, listening to each of the voices
again. Tears nipped at my eyes and I wiped them with the back of my hand. How I
missed all them, my family, my friends.

Cole watched me, saying nothing.

But when Dad’s voice came on, I straightened, the tears
flowed, and Cole leaned closer. I wished I could have put it on speaker for
him, but the broken screen wouldn’t allow it, so I leaned near him, our heads
together, with the phone in between.

“Tess, it’s me, Dad. I don’t know if you have your phone or
not or even if you can get cell service in the bunker, but honey, I’m not going
to be able to get back to you as soon as I thought. I’m sending someone for you
though. They don’t know Morse Code, Tess, so open the door for them, okay baby.
Just open the door. They will find me and your brother and bring you to us.
Right now, we’re staying at the lodge up Rockport Canyon. You know the one.”

I did know it. I hated it. We’d spent every spring vacation
and Labor Day hiking the mountainside or fly-fishing in the frigid rivers. Not
my favorite location by a long shot, but it had become tradition and getting
out of the excursions had become nearly impossible—except for Toby.

All he had to do was show up drunk, piss off Dad, and he’d
be banned, which put me in the weird position of trying to make it all up to Dad
and pretend I loved the great outdoors. I didn’t mind the woods and the mountains,
but when all my friends had glorious trips to Cancun or New York to brag about,
saying I’d spent my spring break gutting trout didn’t quite compare.

“It’s better than being in the cities. Safer. They’ll bring
you here and then we’ll head over the mountains and into Colorado. I wish I
could come get you myself, but Toby’s hurt. Nothing horrible, but I need to
stay with him. I hope you understand, Tess. I love you. Get here quick, okay?”

That was it. That was everything. No more messages.

I lowered the phone to my lap and stared out the dirty
window.

“Rockport Canyon, huh?” After we’d sat in silence for
several moments, Cole sunk into his seat with his hands threaded behind his
head. By the solemn look on his face, he had to be thinking the same thing I did:
impossible, far, too difficult.
What was Dad thinking?

“I guess I was kind of hoping your dad would have picked
something closer, like a Hilton Inn near an interstate, but why make this easy,
right? Where would be the fun in that?” Cole placed a hand on my knee, forcing
me to look at him. “You a good hiker?”

I shook my head. “No, not really.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so. But hey, this will be an
adventure. You, me, the great outdoors! What could go wrong?”

I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or sarcastic, but
either way, I stared at him without replying.

He sat up, smiling—always smiling. So annoying. “We’ll get a
tent and some gear and some of those nasty, but good-for-you energy
bars—nutrition in the shape of a brick—and we’ll head to Rockport. Should only
take like”—he counted his fingers, his mind seeming to calculate the length of
the journey, but he stopped when he’d used up all ten fingers and simply waved
his hand—”well, it’s going to take a bit, but that doesn’t mean it ain’t
doable. People do crazier stuff all the time. It isn’t like we’re backpacking
across Europe or anything.”

Rockport Canyon was a good two-hour drive north from here.
The lodge was probably another hour up the winding canyon roads and through the
dense forest. Yeah, it was definitely a safe place to be when all hell broke
loose in the cities, but by foot? We may as well have been backpacking across
Europe.

“Why is this happening?” I turned away from him to look out
the window again, staring at nothing.

“I don’t think your dad figured it would be that difficult
for you to get to him when he left the message. A couple of hours at most.”

“I don’t mean that. I mean, why is
this
happening?
Why aren’t people back yet? Where is everyone?” I looked back at him. “Besides
Callie, I haven’t seen even one other animal. No birds. No stray dogs. Nothing.
You can’t evacuate this many people without someone or something being left
behind.”

He pointed at me then at himself. “We’re the left-behinds.”

He was right.
Very
right. Sort of.
“I’ve
been
left behind. You... you’re having a blast! You love all of this!”

“Hey now, I never said I
loved
this. I’m simply quite
fond of this new way of living—a big difference—but that doesn’t change
anything, does it? We’re still the only ones here.”

I didn’t say anything.

“And as for the animals and why no one’s back yet, could be
because the water’s contaminated, so don’t drink anything not bottled.”

“Seriously? You’re just telling me now?”
I could have
died.

“Figured you knew. Also, keep in mind with all the changes going
on it’s not safe for anyone. Not yet. It’s like a war zone.”

“And you
like
this
?
How can you possibly want
to live this way?”

He shrugged as if it was no big deal. “It beats the
alternative.”

“The alternative?”

“You know, working my butt off for ‘the man,’ getting little
to show for it. Right now, I’m free from all of that. The world is my oyster,
so they say. Yeah, it’s dangerous, but my other life was slowly killing me.
This is an improvement.”

I slid out the passenger side of the car, carrying my
harnessed cat in one hand and my cell phone in the other. I didn’t want to be
anywhere near Cole, not now, not when he rejoiced in a situation that
frightened, hurt, and depressed me.

I pushed past the carwash bristles and brushes and made my
way out into the open. A thick haziness hung in the air even though the sky was
clear of ominous clouds. It didn’t seem safe, but sitting in a damaged car with
a deranged person didn’t seem much better.

I started walking, not really caring which direction I
headed in this mess. I needed to get away and think. How in the world was I
going to get to Dad, and was he even there, waiting? After all this time?

But what other option did I have? I wasn’t like Cole. To me,
this whole situation was totally unacceptable. I couldn’t live like this even
if he thought he could.

I needed my family. I needed my friends. I
needed
people and civilization.

This couldn’t be it for me. It couldn’t.

A few minutes later, I noticed Cole walking a safe distance
behind me, carrying a few bottles of water and had his stupid George Foreman
grill tucked under one arm. I closed my eyes and shook my head.
What an
idiot.

He didn’t call to me or try to catch up, but followed
without saying a word.

Crumbled buildings and the aftermath of the whirlwind
tornado hindered much of my path and forced me to meander and take a more
crooked course. The easiest path from point A to point B was a straight line,
except when an apocalypse occurred. Then it became left, right, right again,
maybe go in a circle, and head left until you can’t head left no more. But since
I had no idea where I was going, it didn’t really matter.

I didn’t look at much, but stared straight ahead, holding my
still nervous, but wonderfully obedient, cat in my arms. Clothes would soon be
important. Food and water for both me and Callie too, now that everything I owned
happened to be clinging to my back. It would be foolish to walk to where we’d
left the shopping carts and my things. I doubted my duffle bag had even
survived. For the moment, I didn’t really worry about any of that.

More important things dominated my thoughts—Dad, the impossible
journey ahead, the fact that nothing would ever be the same again.

“Hey, Tess!”

I didn’t answer. He viewed this all as a big joke, and I
wasn’t in the mood for his bizarre humor and lack of social grace.

“Tess, stop!”

“I don’t want to talk to you, Cole. Leave me alone.”

“Seriously, don’t take another step.”

Callie wiggled in my arms, and I had to change my hold on
her. “Tess!”

I whipped around, “What? What do you want?”

His forehead creased and his lips drew into a line, and he
waved me toward him—almost like a stalker trying to lure his victim into a
white van. “Why don’t you come back by me, okay?”

“I don’t want to be anywhere
near
you right now.”

“Okay, that’s fine.” He put his hands up. “But can you walk
back this way? We’ll take that side street a couple of blocks back and go
around. It’ll be better.”

I shook my head.
What is wrong with him?
“You’re free
to go wherever you want.” I turned away, managed a few short steps, then
stopped.

My heart lurched. I couldn’t breathe. For a brief minute, I
was paralyzed.

The tornado had demolished the medical center, like
everything else in its path, tearing it apart like a loose thread in a sweater,
a semblance of what it once was. Bricks, beams, walls, and ceilings lay in a
giant pile mixed with broken hospital beds, emergency equipment, and medical papers
that now blew with the breeze.

In my mental haze, I hadn’t noticed anything out of the
ordinary before—I hadn’t been looking at anything. Not really. Everything had
simply blended together, becoming a backdrop to my sadness and anger.

Now, I put Callie down, secured her leash, and ran for the
pile of rubble.

“Help me, Cole!” I knelt in the debris, not bothering to be
careful of broken bottles, syringes, or anything else, and tugged at a large
section of drywall then tossed brick and concrete aside. “Come on, Cole!”

“Tess—”

“We have to help them!”

I dug around the unmoving human leg peeking through the
mess. I’d save this person and then move onto the next. An arm here. A leg
there. Dozens of body parts poked out of the wreckage. I’d dig each of them
out. All of them. It wasn’t too late. It wasn’t. Were they patients left
behind? Doctors staying to help the injured?

“Cole!”

He shook his head, not coming closer as I wanted him too. “They’re
gone, Tess.”

“No! Please!” Frantically, I pushed away garbage, maneuvered
wires, metal, and dirt, and chucked what I could lift. Had they been taking
shelter in the medical center? How many of them were there? Maybe we weren’t
the only ones left behind. Maybe there were others, somewhere else too.

“The tornado didn’t do this to them.” Cole maintained his
distance. “Look.”

I couldn’t. Looking wasted time. I kept digging, becoming
angrier at Cole and his unwillingness to even try.

“They’ve been dead a long time, Tess. Well before the
tornado destroyed the building.”

He didn’t know anything—anything at all. He was all for
himself, selfish and ridiculous. He hadn’t even put down the George Foreman
grill. Maybe he should live all alone away from humanity. It would be better
for everyone, especially me.

I couldn’t stop digging and trying to uncover the buried
person, determined to save them. Throw away one more brick, lift one more
section of wall, and they’d be free to breathe again.

It seemed so simple.

I wanted to make it work so badly.

But when I removed the last of the trash surrounding the
leg, the limb fell away, tumbling down the small hill of discarded debris. A
dark, discolored, rotting leg, severed at the thigh.

A piece of a person.

I froze, next to a crooked hand sticking out only a few feet
away from me and the bloated human leg almost brushing against mine. Blood
pounded in my ears like a kettledrum—
boom, boom, boom.
Everything spun
in dizzying circles. Bile clawed its way up my throat, but I swallowed it back.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay.”

No, it wouldn’t. None of this was okay.

“Tess?”

I was sitting on a pile of broken people.

“We’ll go back the way we came and take that side road like
I said. We’ll get out of the city and into the open and avoid this, okay?” Cole
set the grill next to my cat and carefully made his way to me, watching his
step. He held his hand out.

Mr. Stanger and now this? I’d hoped that Mr. Stanger’s dead
body had been a fluke, a once in a lifetime kind of thing, but this... this was
worse.