Apophis (17 page)

I stared at the photograph and gasped when I recognized it.  I smoothed over the folds and creases at the corners as if not believing what I was seeing.  It was a picture of my mom, my dad, and me.  I was in my high school graduation outfit and she was in a flower-patterned dress.   My dad was in one of the suits he routinely wore to his job at the bank.  I remembered on the day of the graduation ceremony my mom had told me over and over again how proud she was of me.  She’d framed the photograph and had placed it on display on the fireplace mantle.

“How did you get this?” I whispered.  It didn’t take me long to put the pieces together.  A sharp cry escaped my lips and the photograph slipped from my fingers.  I watched it flutter to the ground.  “Y-you.”  The single word was a shaky accusation.

Ryan dropped his head. 

”It’s not possible.”  I shook my head hard.  “Bandits killed my mother,” I said with conviction.

He looked up and grimaced.  “Bandits didn’t do that, Sam.  We did it – the people of Hot Springs.”

“But that’s hundreds of miles away!” I exclaimed.  I couldn’t control the volume of my voice and I knew that everyone in the room was looking at us.

Ryan nodded gravely.  “Paul convinced the Mayor to send a group across the state border because he knew about the oil-drilling equipment in Williston.  The plan was to bring all that equipment that was just sitting around and bring it back here.  We were going to use it to dig deeper and expand the compound.”

I blinked, unable to really wrap my head around what Ryan was telling me. 

“When we got there, we hopped from one house to the next until we could siphon off enough gasoline for the return trip,” he continued.  “Most of the houses we raided were shabby trailers with hardly any supplies.”

I nodded, numb.  “The bachelor houses,” I vocalized.  “The temporary housing for transients working for the oil companies.”

“But then we found your house.”

“And my mom.” I was surprised my voice didn’t break with emotion.

“It was an accident,” he insisted. “She surprised us.  We thought the house was empty – every place else had been empty up until that point.  It’s like your family was the only one left in the whole damn town.”

“
Who
killed her, Ryan? Was it – was it you?” I wanted to know, but I was also afraid of the answer.

“No.” He shook his head.  “And I didn’t see who did it.  I promise.  All I know is that it happened really quick – I wasn’t even in the house yet.  When I got inside, the guys were all yelling at each other and freaking out.”

I felt sick, like I was going to throw up.  I swallowed down the bile and clenched and unclenched my jaw, feeling my back teeth grind together.  “Why do you have my picture?”

He picked up the photograph, which had remained on the floor since I’d dropped it.  He ran his finger along a worn edge.  “I guess…I didn’t want to forget what had happened.  It seemed too weird to me that this woman would have been living all by herself in this house.  I wondered what had happened to the other people in the picture.  I wondered if they’d died.  If they’d left her behind.”

“I was upstairs.”

He looked up suddenly. “How did you…?” he trailed off.

“My dad built an emergency escape upstairs.  My grandma, my dad…we thought you were bandits.”

Ryan looked pale.  “We might as well have been.”

I swallowed again.  “What did you do with her body?”

“We buried her.”

“But the ground is frozen,” I noted.

“I know.  But we had that excavating machinery.  It made it a little easier.”

“Where is she?”

“We found a city park that had really high snow banks.  The ground was softer there because of the high snow drifts.”

I was somewhat pacified to know that at least she’d been buried and not cannibalized.

A sudden thought popped into my head. “You took all our food.”

Ryan hung his head.  “I know. And after we came back from North Dakota, Paul convinced the Mayor and the rest of the council that the only way we’d survive is if we leeched off of the neighboring towns like we’d done in Williston.”

My eyes widened. “You can’t steal from other people, Ryan! It’s just like killing them, taking all their supplies and leaving them to starve.”

“It’s us or them,” he said stiffly.

“Why didn’t you just shoot me and my dad and the Wests on sight when you found us the other night?  We’re four more mouths to feed.”

“We’re not murderers,” he protested weakly.  “We’re survivalists.” It was the second time I’d accused him of being a murderer.   He sighed deeply.  “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but they’ve planned another trip.  We’re going to Kalispell in the morning.  It’s a city about 60 miles north of here.”

“We have to stop them,” I asserted.  “They can’t do that.”

“We can’t stop them, Sam,” Ryan countered. “And if you don’t sign on with the program, they’ll kick you out of Hot Springs or worse.”

“I can’t sit idly while you take advantage of people who have done you no harm.”

“I can’t.  I’ve got my family here.  My mother…my little sister.”

I nodded curtly.  “I understand.  But you have to understand that I can’t turn a blind eye.  I can’t stay here and I doubt my dad will want to either.”

I could tell Ryan was internally battling with his conscience.  I wondered why he’d told me about the raids and my mother at all.

“Let me at least get some supplies for you,” he said.  “I can get back all the stuff we confiscated from your group.  It’s the least I can do.”

“You’re right,” I practically snarled.  “It
is
the least you can do.”

When Ryan left me in the library, I didn't know what to do with myself.
 

“Hey, Sammy.” Nora skipped into the room. “Whatcha up to?  Need help sounding out any big words?” she winked playfully.  Nora was in an unusually good mood.  I, however, felt like puking.

“Have you seen my dad lately?” I asked.

“Yeah. He’s playing chess with my dad in the rec room.  I think they’re addicted.”

I stood up shakily from my seat. “Let’s go.”

“What's wrong?”

“Just follow me,” I snapped.

+++++

“Sam is acting weird and she won’t tell me what's wrong,” Nora announced when we walked into the recreation room.

I didn’t know how to tell my dad the truth about my mom’s death.  I could still hardly believe it myself.

“I know who killed mom.” I could feel myself shaking, but I tried to keep my voice even. 

My dad’s head lifted and his attention snapped away from his chess game.  “What?”

I swallowed hard. “Ryan, a boy I’ve been hanging out with,” I shot a look over at Nora. “He told me that he was part of a raid – a group of people from Hot Springs – who went to Williston looking for construction equipment so they could make this place bigger.  They’re the ones who killed mom.” My mouth felt dry.  I worked the muscles in my throat. “He also told me they’ve been raiding neighboring towns ever since.  That’s the reason why this place is so stocked; they’ve been stealing food and supplies from other people.”

Mr. West’s eyes darted between my dad and me. “How did you…why did he tell you?  Does he have proof?  Maybe he was just showing off for you.”

“By telling me he killed my mother?” I spat out.  “Yeah, that’s really a good way to impress a girl.”  My mother would have been disappointed in my outburst, but my resolve was close to snapping.

My dad looked similarly agitated, but he wasn’t the type to raise his voice.  He clenched onto a chess piece; it looked like a bishop.  His knuckles had turned white and I worried he might crush the chess piece in his hand. “We have to leave,” he said gravely. “Right away.”

“We’ve got to do something!” Nora hissed. She had all the delicacy of a bull in a china shop. “We can’t let them keep robbing and killing other people!”

“There's only four of us and there’s hundreds of them,” her father said pragmatically. “You have to pick your battles.”

“So we’re in agreement, then,” I pressed.  “We’re all leaving?”  My father, Mr. West, and Nora all somberly nodded.

“Ryan said he'd get everything that had been confiscated from us and some extra food.”

“You trust him?” Mr. West asked.

“He came to me,” I said. “He told me about the raids. He didn't have to do that.”

“We’ll be cautious,” my dad said evenly. “Let me know when this boy gets you the supplies back. We’re leaving right after, even if it’s in the middle of the night.” His icy blue eyes flashed in the direction of Nora and me. “But don’t be obvious about it.”

Nora and I left my father and Mr. West in the recreation room.  I wanted to start packing up my backpack right away so when it was time to leave, I’d be more than ready.  How our fathers could return to their chess game was beyond me.

“How are you so put together right now?” Nora demanded.

“What do you mean?” I felt shaken, rattled, by the day’s revelations.  I was anything but put together.

“You’re so cavalier about death,” Nora huffed. “When your grandma left, you hardly cried.  And now that you’ve found out who killed your mother, you’re about as emotional as a robot.”  Her tone was accusatory.

I stopped and turned on my heels. “What's your point, Nora? Just say what you want to say to me.”

She stared me down. “Do you feel anything other than distain?”

“I have all kinds of feelings and emotions,” I defended myself. “I just...there’s no point acting out on them. Crying isn’t going to solve anything,” I clarified, lest she read into my words.

As soon as we made it back to our bunks I began shoving my few belongings into my backpack.  My father had said not to be obvious, but no one really paid much attention to Nora and me.  We weren’t from Hot Springs.  We were outsiders and therefore not on anyone’s radar.  I figured that’s how it would always be.  Ryan had really been the only one to approach me or try to establish a friendship.

Ryan showed up not soon after we’d returned to the bunk.  I was worried his presence in the women’s barracks might garner us some unwanted attention, but no one seemed to care that an 18 year-old-boy was in the women’s bunks.

“You have a lot of nerve,” Nora said, ice in her words.  I didn’t know if she was referring to him being in the women’s quarters or chastising him for being complicit in my mother’s death.

Ryan looked justifiably uncomfortable.  “I got your things back and I slipped a little something extra in there.”  He shoved a canvas bag in my direction. “I’m sorry it’s not more; they’d notice if I took too much.  The pantry’s basically on lockdown.”

I felt a glass bottle nestled snuggly in the bag.  I looked up questioningly. “What’s this bottle in here?”

“It’s just some homemade hooch.  It won’t freeze, and I don’t know, it’s good for stuff,” he shrugged. “Cleaning wounds, keeping warm.  I’m sorry.”

I shoved the canvas bag under one of the bunk mattresses and out of sight. “So how do we get out of this place?” Surviving above ground with scant supplies didn’t worry me; getting out of Hot Springs did.  I hadn’t seen anyone coming or going since we’d first come underground.

“There won’t be anyone guarding the main entrance after lights out.
 That will be your window to leave.”

I nodded. “Thank you, Ryan.”

“Don’t do that.” He ducked his head. “You’ve got nothing to thank me for.”

+++++

Ryan hadn’t lied.  Soon after the overhead lights flickered out that evening for lights-out, the halls emptied.  My father and I and Nora and her father silently stalked, seemingly undetected, to the front entrance. We were bundled up for the world above ground, backpacks secured to our backs, supplies divvied up amongst the four of us.  The only thing that separated us from the outside was the long corridor that climbed above ground.

“Be as quiet as you can,” my dad instructed. “We’re not safe yet.”

I followed his lead through the thick darkness just as I had that first night when the group from Hot Springs had raided our home. Above ground it was silent, the only sound the crunching of snow beneath our boots. The air was still, absent of any wind, making the night temperature manageable. We’d be able to travel with the moon as our guide tonight without freezing.

My dad poked his head around the corner of a cinder block building on the old high school grounds.  He quickly pulled his head back and quietly swore.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Two men,” he whispered. “They look like guards.”

I peered around the corner. Two men, bundled up in heavy overcoats, smoked cigarettes just outside the compound's main entrance. They looked relaxed, leaning against a chain-link fence. Their guns, long barreled and glinting beneath the moonlight, were propped up against the fence as well.

I looked to my dad for reassurance.  How were we going to leave without them seeing us?  Beside me, I heard him take a deep breath. He stepped out from the shadows before I could stop him.