“Holy shit,” Kel said, staring at me.
“What?” I remarked with an edge that could have cut glass.
“You’re crying.”
“What?” My vision blurred, proving his statement true. It felt strange. I was almost 20 years old and I had never once shed a tear until now. I wasn’t certain what to do. Kel moved to the sink, retrieved a small cloth and handed it to me.
“Wipe your nose,” he said, nodding at me. I could only comply. “Rock,” he asked gently; “Derrick’s gone, isn’t he?”
“They killed him. They almost killed me. I’m not sure why they left me there. They didn’t even try and rape me.”
“They, who?”
“Bandits. Two guys. And a girl. Ambushed us in Las Cruces.”
“When?”
“I’m not really sure. Maybe a year ago. That was when I lost my memory. I was muzzy for weeks as my head healed.”
Those bastards had left me for dead. I damned near was. Once I regained consciousness, I had to find replacement medical supplies to stitch up a nasty gash just above my left ear. My hair still doesn’t grow properly there. It’s one of the reasons I always wear a cap of some sort. I dabbed at my eyes and refocused on Kel.
“The fucked-up thing is, I was attacked again yesterday. I took them both out, but not before getting another nasty bonk on the head. Now I have it all back.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Almost,” I added.
“So, now what?” he asked. At first I wasn’t sure I wanted to answer. I knew what my next steps would be. Whether or not I wanted this knucklehead involved, well, that was another matter.
“You said you can take care of yourself,” I commented. He nodded. “Time to show me.”
CHAPTER 3
I left the table and walked over to the shelving unit that held glasses, cups and serving dishes. On the far left side of the top shelf, I grabbed the second cup back and twisted it clockwise. The hidden latch released and the shelving unit moved free of the wall. It took only the slightest push to ease it from the wall and expose the hidden door behind it.
“Holy shit!” Kel said, standing. “I’ve been all over this house and I never had a clue that was even there. You guys are some sneaky bastards.”
“It was my Dad and Derrick. They knew what might happen, living this close to the missile range. They were nothing if not prepared.” I twirled the large dial on the door, which resembled a humongous safe, metal and unforgiving. A few more spins and I heard the familiar click. Twisting the thick handle, I pulled the door open, revealing the stairs beyond.
“What is this?” Kel asked. “Some sort of safe room?”
“Bomb shelter, you moron.” Again, I wondered how the guy had lasted this long on his own. I turned back to him. “How was it that you found this place? You still haven’t told me that.”
“To be perfectly honest, it was a total accident.” He looked away and scratched at his neck. If I had to guess, I’d say he was embarrassed.
“Yeah?” I said, skeptically.
“I was being chased by a pack of wild dogs. I leapt over the fence in back to get away from them. I saw the garden and decided to check the place out.”
“The tripwires are still in place,” I noted.
“In the front. I left them alone for safety’s sake. In back, they almost got me. Again, I think it was sheer luck that I bent down to tie my boot and I saw them. After that, I must have spent hours scouring the place for any other neat little surprises.”
“You found everything?”
“Obviously not. I’ve been here for almost eight months, I guess. My last watch stopped working years ago. When I saw the photos of Derrick, I was shocked and really excited. I figured you guys were out hunting or scouting or something. I expected you back at any time.” His mouth curled up on the left corner and he spread his arms as if giving up. “You sure took your time.”
“Trust me,” I said, turning to head down the stairs into the darkness of the shelter, “If I had remembered, I’d have been back here long ago.” The memory of burying Derrick — and not even remembering why it was important — weighed heavy on my thoughts. I pushed those thoughts aside and tried to focus on the goal. I now knew what my goal was and it was good to have direction again.
Kel followed me down into the darkness. I felt for the power switch on the wall near the foot of the stairs. It was a large, hand-sized switch that Uncle D used to call a Frankenstein switch, whatever the hell that meant. I grabbed it and flipped it up to make the connection. Surprisingly, there was a little electricity left in the battery bank that Derrick had installed to store the power we didn’t use. The lights flickered and I dashed over to the gas generator in the corner. I jerked on the cord a couple of times before it revved into life. The lights steadied.
“This is so fucking cool!” Kel exclaimed.
“It was kind of a family project. Other families on our street finished their basements as rec rooms. We built a bomb shelter in ours. My Dad always said that living next to a missile range was like painting a bull’s-eye on the area. I don’t think they ever thought the shelter would be put to the use it eventually was.”
On one side of the single room were shelves of canned foodstuffs, mostly from the garden outside. In the back were a couple of cots, an alcove with two rather large oxygen tanks, a small generator with the exhaust piped outside and a refrigerator. The generator normally powered the fridge, but since the power hadn’t been on for at least a couple of years, I wasn’t planning to open the fridge any time soon.
On the opposite side of the room from the pantry shelves were benches and tables piled to overflowing with weaponry and ammunition of all sorts, shapes and sizes. It was a veritable arsenal. That was inclusive of the two amy-style sabers that hung crossed on the wall. Derrick had always carried a blade and he was hell-bent on teaching me the art of fencing the last couple of years we were together.
“Jesus. You guys were loaded for bear, huh?” he said.
“Be prepared. Boy Scout motto. Or, at least, Uncle D always said it was.”
I removed the combat harness, cleared the guns and set out some leather dressing and a rag. I sat on one of the two stools at the workbench and began to slowly work the oil into the harness and holsters. I caught Kel standing in silence, watching me with querying eyes. I raised one eyebrow and he moved to sit on the other stool, facing me.
“You have no idea how weird this looks, do you?”
“What’re you talking about? Leather needs maintenance.” I pointed at a Western style hip holster hanging to one side of the bench. “I suggest you get to work, too. I’ve got something to do later. You’re welcome to join me, if you think you can handle it.”
“Why do I get the feeling that this ‘thing’ you have to do involves more than just a trip to the park?” He waited as I stared at him for a long moment. I figured it was about time to broach the subject, whether I wanted to or not. I went back to working the paste slowly into the leather of the holsters but took a deep breath.
“Do you have any idea what happened to the world, Kel?” I asked.
“Pandemic. It was a super flu that killed, well, damned near everyone.”
“So, why did we survive? Why did so few live through it?” I stared at him as he shrugged. “Because we’re immune. A small number of us had strong enough immune systems that we managed to not catch the virus. And it was a virus. You know the difference between a cold and the flu?”
“Not really, no.”
“Not much. A cold is a short-lived virus infection. Influenza, the flu, is a much heartier strain of virus. There’re several subtypes, actually. What happened thirteen years ago was a new subtype of the flu virus. It was spread, like any flu outbreak, through airborne particles. People either breathed in the virus or touched an infected surface and then touched their mouth, eyes, or nose.