Anyone? (5 page)

The second floor studio apartment faced west and continued
to receive light from the setting sun. I only had a few minutes before the sun
set, so I hunted for candles, lanterns, anything to provide light. The place
was clear of dead bodies—I’d already done a quick search for anything horrific or
nasty smelling—but now I tossed open cabinets, drawers, and closets in hopes of
finding something useful before it was too late and the place became shrouded
in shadows, leaving me with only my flashlight to go by.

Two scented candles would have to do. Once lit, the place
began to smell like a mixture of clean sheets and cherry blossoms. Not too bad,
especially after the kind of day I’d been through.

“Okay, Callie. Time to come out.” I unzipped the side pocket
of the bag then scooted as far away as I could and waited for the hellcat to
emerge.

It took a minute, but her orange and white head peeked out
over the top.
Thank goodness.
She hadn’t died and she wasn’t any worse
for wear, having existed in a duffle bag for nearly two hours. The guilt I’d
been carrying lifted from my shoulders.

She hesitated for a moment, which seemed odd since she had scratched
the crap out of the bag in an effort to escape only minutes before. Now, she
perched there, her front paws on the edge of the bag, the remainder of her body
tucked inside.

She wasn’t as pissed as I’d imagined she’d be. Somehow, I’d
figured she’d look right at me, hiss and arch her back, and then attempt to
claw my eyes out for having shoved her in the side pocket like a pair of dirty
gym socks, but she actually looked rather cute and innocent. All appeared
forgiven.

“You hungry?”

She meowed—adorable.

“Here you go.” I twisted off the lid to a can of food and placed
it near her, but slid myself out of the way once more. Just because she was
cute and didn’t look as though she’d tear my face apart didn’t meant I trusted
her—not yet.

She took to the food and while she ate, I poured some water
from a bottle into a small bowl and placed that near her too.

Feed her, water her, let her explore the place, and then I’d
wrestle her into the harness. It sounded like a good plan to me—butter her up
before torturing her once more. She’d need to get used to the leash soon, so
she would be safe and I could grab her if I needed to.

With my cat occupied for the moment, I snatched my phone
from my pocket and pressed the power button, turning it on. The battery flashed
red, not a good sign, and indicated only twenty percent of the battery
remained, which sucked since I had no connecting bars. Not even one.
Damn
it.

I stepped out onto the fire escape and made sure to shut the
sliding door behind me. All I needed was for Callie to get out after all the
effort I’d put into keeping her safe.

I raised the cell phone over my head and turned in several
circles, even hanging myself over the edge of the railing, but still got no
reception. Maybe getting higher and more open would be better.

Callie had climbed on the kitchen table then made a leap for
the counter, barely making it. Apparently, she was attempting to get higher too
as she explored her new surroundings. She’d be okay for a moment, so I tucked
the phone back in my pocket, grabbed hold of the ladder, and climbed two
stories to the roof of the building.

Heights, along with school, were on my list of hated items
but the need to call Dad outweighed my fear. I stepped away from the edge of
the roof, lessening my chances of falling to my death, and did my best not to
look down.

Still no bars and my battery slipped to ten percent. No cell
service? Really? What had the world come to? The message icon with seventeen
voicemails was too tempting, and though I should have saved the battery until I
could find a way to use it, I pressed play.

“Tess, it’s insane out here! Oh, my gosh! People are looting
stores and everyone’s trying to get out of town. I’m stuck in traffic. This is
so scary. Call me and let me know you’re okay. Okay?”
Julia.

“Where the hell is everyone? Dad’s not answering his cell
and you’re not either. Tell me you didn’t leave it at school again. Damn it,
Tess! Half the town is on fire and the other half is bolting for the hills.
Where are you? Shit. I gotta go. Call me when you get this.”
Toby.

“Tess, this is Grandma. I can’t get a hold of your dad and I’m
worried about all of you. I’ve been watching the news and... and I need to know
you’re all fine. Please have your dad call me as soon as you get this message,
okay sweetheart. I love you. Be careful.”

I swallowed hard and wiped my eyes. How I missed hearing
their voices.

“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—”

The phone died.

Where?
I shook my phone, willing it back to life, and
it tumbled from my fingers onto the gravel roof. The battery fell out, slid
several feet away from me, and the face of the phone shattered.
Stupid.

I dropped to my knees, ignoring the bite of the tiny pebbles
digging into my flesh, and scooped up my broken phone and dead battery. I
pressed them to my chest—my life line—and knew I needed to somehow find a way
to figure out where Dad and Toby were.

When I climbed to my feet after several moments of trying to
convince myself not to fall apart, the devastation of what had happened to my
city almost caused me to fall to my knees again.

No.

This couldn’t be real. No way.

My chest grew heavy as if a Sumo wrestler sat on it,
squeezing the life out of me. My breath came in small spurts when I happened to
breathe at all and my hands shook, the rest of my body slowly following suit. I
wrapped my arms around myself to steady the unrelenting tremors.
Don’t cry,
don’t cry, don’t cry.

Cars sat stationary along the roads, lining both directions,
some lying on their roofs, some on their sides. The scene looked normal like a
movie put on pause. Trees had tumbled over, uprooted from the spots in which they
had lived for decades. Power lines, street signs, billboards—scattered like a
box of Legos. It looked much the way my neighborhood had, but on a much larger
scale. Garbage, debris, and dirt covered everything.

A large section of the city no longer existed, gone,
replaced by a large crater several football fields long. Skyscrapers,
businesses, homes—wiped away. Shells of buildings, burned to only their frames,
lined the circumference. More smoking craters dented the landscape to my left,
my right, and behind me. The normally busy freeway in the distance, taking people
to and from destinations, remained stationary.

Miles and miles of stillness stared back at me. No movement
anywhere except for downy clouds floating overhead and the occasional piece of
trash rolling across the street. The lack of noise,
any
noise, seemed
surreal.

This is not my life.

It had been nearly two months since.... Jeez, I didn’t even
know
what
had happened. The city and the cities next to ours had all
apparently been evacuated, but this was insane! Why weren’t the people back
already? What was going on? Where were the people who fixed everything after a
disaster?

Red Cross where are you?

My brain could hardly process what my eyes were taking in—a
nightmare of epic proportions—but the one thing that seemed certain was that, whatever
happened, I was on my own.

A thick coating of dust covered the futon couch. I smacked
the mattress several times with my hand, the cloud of yuck swirling in the air
nearly choking me before I spread my sleeping bag on top.

The candles burned down to liquid and one began to sputter
out.

Callie situated herself out in front of the sliding glass
door and began her grooming, completely content to be in this new environment.
I kind of wished I was a cat—self-absorbed and unaware of my surroundings.
Unfortunately for me, that wasn’t the case. I was quite aware.
Too
aware.

I didn’t bother changing clothes or brushing my teeth or
doing anything normal. Nothing was normal. Not anymore. So I climbed into my
sleeping bag and pulled it up over my head. Screw this. Screw
all
of
this.

Today was the worst birthday ever, and as much as I willed
myself not to, I ended up crying myself to sleep.

Puffy red eyes stared back at me in the bathroom mirror as I
leaned in closer to inspect myself. Gnarly hair, knotted and crazy, stuck out
from the sides of my head. I felt the same way I looked.

Somehow, in the midst of everything, I had managed to fall
asleep. Weird, since the apartment didn’t belong to me and the world had become
a scene reminiscent of every apocalyptic movie I’d ever watched. Minus the
walking dead or terrifying aliens—at least to this point I had yet to lay eyes
on any.

Please don’t let me lay eyes on them. That’s all I need.

Callie purred and rubbed against my ankles.

“You want to know what the plan is, huh?” She probably wanted
to be fed again, but I scooped her up so she could look in the mirror too. “I
wish I knew, but we need to figure it out soon. First, breakfast.”

My hair and face could wait. Maybe I wouldn’t even brush my
hair. Or my teeth. Who would know if I did or didn’t?

I was hungry, and though the idea of eating canned or MRE
meals made me nauseous, they were better than nothing.

A can of food and some more water and Callie became an
affectionate cat, purring and following me around. The rest of the time she had
very little to do with me unless I forced her to snuggle. She didn’t have a
choice. I needed snuggles.

I was about to open a can of peaches, but stopped before
turning the crank of the hand-operated can opener. A box of rainbow
deliciousness peeked out from one of the opened cupboards
. Poptarts.

No friggin’ way!

Poptarts lasted forever. All the artificial flavors and
additives meant they could survive nearly anything, which, as I’d found myself
in the middle of a nightmare apocalypse, came in handy.

It didn’t take much to open the box and pluck out one of
four silver packages. A brand new box—such joy. Eight pop tarts for me!

I slid to the floor right there with my back against the
counter and shoved almost half a pop tart in my mouth. Strawberry. Sprinkles. Gooey
goodness. It had been forever since I’d tasted something so sweet. It nearly
caused my eyes to roll into the back of my head and I almost forgot my troubles
for a moment.

Four pop tarts later, I stood up and dusted off my butt.
Yes, life still sucked. Yes, I was still alone without a clue as to what had
happened to make it that way. But one thing was for certain: staying in the
apartment forever, as I had planned to do the night before, would not change my
situation. Maybe I wasn’t a brave or strong person—physically or mentally—but I
could do something. What other choice was there really?