But he also knew that he needed to gain more of Danny and Lonnie’s trust before they’d tell him what he needed to know.
He tried to bottle the anxiety deep down, stuffing it away somewhere, knowing that he needed to be patient.
“So, you’ve been doing OK since the EMP?” Rob ventured to say.
“We’re fine here,” said Danny. “We’ve got everything we need. But now don’t you get any ideas.” He took Rob’s gun, which he offered to him with the safety on, handle first, and placed it on a small table near him, muzzle pointing at the wall.
“Like I said before,” said Rob. “I’m just looking for my friend. You see, we’re over by the lake.”
“The lake? Which one? There are lakes all over the place.”
“Uh…” said Rob, completely blanking on the name of the lake. He felt like he was back at one of those horrible job interviews where he couldn’t answer the easy questions about former employers and his checkered history of parole violations and DUIs.
Fortunately, Danny just went on talking, not waiting for an answer. “We used to vacation by a lake up in Michigan every year. It got to be too much, you know how it is, I’d imagine. Getting all the gear ready, making sure the car’s in good working order. Not to mention getting the time off work. I used to work in the mill around here. Not that you’d know much about it. You never hear a word about it these days. Closed down a few years back. Worked my way up to foreman…”
“There you go, going on and on, dear,” interrupted Lonnie, appearing in the room for the first time. She might have been several years younger than Danny. There was something about her face and hairstyle that reminded Rob of a great aunt of his that had died a few years back.
She held a tray with three teacups on saucers neatly arranged on it. She served one to Rob who took the teacup carefully with both hands.
Tentatively, he took a sip.
“Wow,” he said. “That’s delicious. I can’t remember when the last time I had tea was…”
“It’s imported,” said Lonnie, settling down on a nearby armchair and taking a sip of her own tea. “I got sick of the stuff in the supermarket.”
“This is a lot better, that’s for sure,” grunted Danny.
Rob didn’t mention the shotgun that Lonnie was supposed to be keeping trained on him.
Danny was silent, apparently engrossed in his tea.
The three of them sat there for a few minutes, taking sips of their tea in that post-EMP silence that seemed to ring out around them. It was a weird scene. Strange. Unusual. Unexpected.
At least it wasn’t violent.
Rob had already seen so much violence. Death. Injury. Cruelty.
And he knew that he’d only encounter more of it as the days passed. He knew that there was no going back to the old world that, in retrospect, felt so safe and comforting.
This quaint living room here would have seemed old-fashioned before the EMP. And in the days that would follow, in this new world, it would be beyond quaint. It would be like a museum that showcased the old, comfortable world. The hard reality of survival would dictate entirely new types of decoration. Teacups and saucers would be as out of place as they possibly could be.
Rob figured it was as good a time as ever to bring up his question.
“So,” he said, holding his teacup between his big hands. “The reason I came…”
It was strange, having to remind them that he wasn’t some long-lost nephew who was merely paying them a visit.
“What is it, dear?” said Lonnie.
“Don’t we have any biscuits?” said Danny.
“We’re out, remember?”
“To hell with them anyway.”
“Anyway,” said Rob. “My friend was… Um,” He didn’t know how to ask his question. He had the idea that it might not be a good idea to mention that his friend was kidnapped. Mentioning violence might shatter the little reality that Danny and Lonnie were clinging to. It might provoke some kind of extreme reaction, rendering them unable to answer his question.
So he tried a different tack. “Would either of you happen to know if there are any motorcycle owners around these parts?”
“Motorcycles?” said Lonnie, her voice creaking a little. She sounded sweet, like a doting grandmother, as she searched her memory. “Danny, wasn’t there that big parade a couple years back? There were all these men with their motorcycles. Those old-style bikes, I think.”
“Out of towers,” barked Danny. “But what about the Johnson boy? He was always riding around on those things. Couldn’t get off one of them long enough to get himself a proper job.”
“Oh yes, the Johnson boy. What a shame. He never did make much of his life.”
As Lonnie and Danny recounted the Johnson boy’s various encounters with the law, Rob felt like he was listening to his own story. Sure, the Johnson boy sounded a little more extreme than himself. He’d been arrested plenty more times. Rob had always managed to skirt serious trouble. But who knew? If things had gone just a little bit differently with Rob, he could have easily found himself serving time in the state penitentiary.
And then what would have happened to him now? Rob pondered that for a moment, as Lonnie and Danny continued. Would those prisoners be stuck in their cells, abandoned by the guards, left to starve to death? Surely not. Surely the majority of them were resourceful. And having spent years locked up, they would have learned all the tricks of the trade, so to speak. They’d know how the cells could be opened, if they just had enough time away from the scrutiny of the guards. It seemed like a sure thing that the majority of them would escape. Escape right into a half-destroyed, lawless world where power and violence were the only authority required.
“Sam! That’s his name. Sam Johnson”
“Right on the money, Lonnie.”
“So this Sam Johnson, where does he live?” said Rob.
They didn’t seem to want to know why he was interested. Maybe it was because he’d phrased his question innocently enough.
“Oh, he lived with his dad pretty much all his life. Where was that house again?”
“Up on Baker, I think.”
“No, you know what, I know where it is. It was that ramshackle place, off of Route 22. The one with the long driveway.”
“You know, you’re right. You couldn’t even see the house from the road. But I went there once. I forget what before. Maybe to drop off a bulletin from the city council or something.”
“Route 22,” said Rob. “Is that the one off of…?”
“You just head back about a mile and make a left. And that’s 22 for you.”
Rob nodded his head and took another sip of tea.
Inside, he was getting more anxious by the minute. Thoughts were rushing through his head about what could be happening to Jessica right at this moment. He imagined terrible things, and he tried to push them to the back of his mind.
“His dad died a couple years back, and the house really went to seed after that. Sam never really could keep it together. Never mowed the lawn or anything.”
“And those shutters? Did you see those? The paint was peeling off all over the place.”
“You think he’d still be around there?” said Rob.
“Are you looking for him or something?”
It was the question he’d been waiting for. It couldn’t be avoided any longer.
Rob just nodded.
“Look, I don’t want to get involved in whatever it is you’re up to. Your business is your own business. Maybe it’s an old-fashioned attitude these days, but I’m old, so I’m allowed to think that way.”
“Aw, you’re not that old, Danny.”
Danny laughed hoarsely. “Like I said, I’m not going to get involved. But you seem like a nice kid, so I’ll give you a piece of advice.”
“And what’s that?”
“Just watch out.”