For Paul.
The envelope had weight. I opened it to find two rings inside: golden bands. One was large, the other small. Both were inscribed inside with the same date, January 24. I looked at Mr. Hartman’s left hand to see that his ring finger held no ring. My guess was that the larger ring was his wedding band. The other, I assumed, had belonged to his wife. The last act of his life was to try to make sure that they would get to his son. It was a very human act in a world that had become incredibly inhuman.
I dropped the rings back inside and put the envelope in my pocket.
“I can’t guarantee that your son will get these,” I said to him. “But I’ll honor your memory by keeping them safe. Thank you for trying to help us.”
With that, I lifted the blanket up and draped it over his head.
FIFTEEN
We couldn’t leave Mr. Hartman lying in that bed.
After I broke the news to the others, it took some convincing and discussion, but we eventually decided to bring him to the hospital morgue. Olivia didn’t want any part of the process, no big surprise. Neither did Kent, but I shamed him into it. Jon found a gurney, and we transferred the already stiffening body onto it. I had to give Jon credit. He took the lead, and why not? He was the only one of us who had experience transporting dead bodies.
It was an eerie procession to the morgue as we moved behind the light of our headlamps. Olivia eventually joined us, but only to hold one of the camp lanterns. She always came through when I least expected her to.
We found the morgue and were all relieved to see that there were no bodies lying on any of the tables. After several weeks and no air conditioning, that would have been gruesome.
“We should put him in there,” I said, pointing to the wall of stainless steel refrigerator doors, where the morgue visitors were kept.
“Why?” Kent asked. “There’s no power.”
“To give him a little dignity,” I said. “We can’t just leave him out here in the open.”
“Hate to break this to you,” Kent said. “He doesn’t care.”
“But I do!” I shouted at him.
“Whoa, easy,” he said, holding up his hands. “You’ll wake the dead.”
“Not funny,” Tori admonished.
“Yeah, it is, a little,” Kent said with a snicker.
“Look,” I said, trying to control my emotions. “I know it won’t make any difference to the guy if we leave him in the open or put him in the drawer or bring him to a cemetery and bury him in a giant mausoleum. Nobody will know or care either way, but there are some things you have to do because they’re right. Every time we take something from a store or drive that Explorer or siphon gas or take food, it makes me feel like we’re letting a little bit of civilization slip away.”
“So you want to pay for what we take?” Kent said, scoffing. “No, I’m saying that I’m afraid we’re going to forget who we are. Canned food is going to run out. Gas is going to go dry. We may have trouble finding clean water or a warm place to sleep. How are we going to handle that? If we treat Mr. Hartman like he doesn’t matter, what’s next? Do we start fighting over who gets the biggest piece of fruit? Or ignore somebody who’s hurt? Or not give water to a dying man? It scares me to think that we may be headed toward a world run by jungle rules. Survival of the fittest.”
Nobody argued. They kept their eyes on the ground.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “But I don’t want to go there.”
I hoped their silence meant they were all imagining what it might be like if the rules of civilization were thrown out. At least Kent didn’t crack any more bad jokes.
Tori walked to the wall of freezers, hesitated before choosing one, then reached up and pulled open a door.
I held my breath, fearing that the cooler might already be occupied.
It wasn’t.
Tori pulled out the long drawer, and without another word we all worked together to move Mr. Hartman. Even Olivia. We lifted him up to find he was ridiculously light. After gently placing him in the drawer, feet first, Jon slid him inside and closed the door. It locked shut with a loud click that sounded very final.
“Do we say anything?” Jon asked.
We shared looks. What could be said? We didn’t even know the guy.
I faced the others and said, “Let’s just say we hope he’s in a better place and we’re glad that he’s not suffering anymore. And we thank him for trying to help us out. I guess it says something about somebody when the last thing they do in life is to offer help to complete strangers.”
I didn’t mention the rings. I’m not sure why. I guess I was afraid that Kent would somehow cheapen it by saying how dumb it was for me to have taken them.
“Amen,” Olivia said.
She was crying.
We stood there for a few seconds, offering a moment of silence.
“That’s it,” Kent declared. “I’m outta here.”
It was a disrespectful way to end the moment, but I wanted to get out of there too. We all hurried out of the morgue, up the stairs, and went directly to the outside doors of the emergency room in search of morning light.
I blew through the doors first, stepped into the warmth of the sun, and took a deep breath of fresh air. I needed it. Badly.
It was now full-on autumn. The sky was a brilliant blue, and the trees had become a dazzling rainbow of reds, yellows, and oranges. It was my favorite time of year. It made me think of Halloween and Patriots games and Thanksgiving dinner… and school. Would I ever set foot in a school classroom again?
“So what’s the verdict?” Tori asked, all business. “Are we going to Nevada or what?”
“I say yes,” Kent chimed in quickly. “If there’s a chance we can punch back at these bastards, I say we take it.”
“Do you really believe there’s an army of survivors out there that can stand up to SYLO?” I asked. “Or the Air Force? Or both?”
“I have no idea,” Kent replied quickly. “But I hope there is. There are two sides to this war, and I don’t want to be on either one of them. Who else can we trust but people like us? At some point, one of those armies is going to win and take over, and I don’t want to be at their mercy. We’ve gotta build some power of our own, and that radio broadcast offers the only hope of doing that.”
“Amen,” Tori said. “I couldn’t have said it better. What about you, Jon?”
Jon was reluctant to answer, but we all stood there staring at him, so he had no choice.
“I’m sorry, Tori,” he began. “I know I wanted to go before, but I’m not so sure we can trust that broadcast. Not after what happened at Faneuil Hall. It sounds too similar, like we’re being lured in. Even if it’s legit, I don’t see how a bunch of civilians can fight those armies. Either of them. Like it or not, we’re going to be at the mercy of the winning side… unless we die fighting them. Now we’ve got another option. I say we go to Kentucky and see if there really is a safe haven. That’s my vote. Kentucky.”
Tori skipped Olivia and looked at me.
“What do you say, Tucker?”
“What about me?” Olivia asked. “Don’t I get a say?”
“We already know what you want to do,” Tori replied. “Florida, right?”
Whoa. Had Olivia told Tori about trying to convince me to go to Florida? Had she painted the idyllic picture of lolling in the warm sand and sleeping under palm trees the way she had with me? I mentally kicked myself for thinking that way. This isn’t about you, Tucker. Get over yourself.