I strained against the guy, but he was too strong.
“Joaquin,” I said. “You don’t have to do this. Please don’t take me to Arby’s. No one should go there. Apocalypse or not.”
Joaquin was silent and carried me through another back door, this leading to where a Honda Civic with the windows covered in plastic bags and duct tape sat.
He opened the backseat door and then gently placed me inside. I scrambled to get on my feet, but he placed a meaty finger over his lips.
“Stay,” he said.
I watched him go over to the gas gauge and give it a good steady twist, then run to the driver’s side of the car, shut the doors and start up the engine.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
He peeled out of the driveway as I noticed fires spring up left and right all over the neighborhoods. Houses and trees freely burned while wreckage came down gently over the roof of the car.
“Joaquin?” I asked.
The car sped down the street and I could see the Arby’s sign brightly shining in the night.
“Joaquin,” I said. “I know work is hard to find in the economy, but please don’t think you have to—”
He didn’t even slow down. He passed by that haunted Arby’s like it wasn’t even a thought in his mind. I breathed a sigh of relief and felt as if I had accomplished my own survival. He did stop at a non-working stoplight instead and made a slow U-turn, then drove back in the house’s direction.
I scrambled up to the passenger side of the car as he slowed down toward the luxury house. He pulled up a safe distance from it and then took out a cigar from his pocket and a match.
“I’ve heard cigars are like smoking eight cigarettes at once,” I said.
He lit up.
“Is that true?” I asked.
He took the still lit match and then threw it at the house. It hit the porch, quickly grew to flame, then took over the entire infrastructure.
I lurched forward in horror, and gasped. I leaned over and tried to jerk the door handle open, but it wouldn’t budge.
“No!” I said, covering my mouth. “There’s people in there!”
His heavy turkey leg-shaped arm slammed me back into my seat as he puffed a cloud of smoke into my face.
“Wanna see me burn down another neighborhood?” he asked, face lit up, so incredibly excited.
“What does that mean?”
He looked hurt. He shrugged. “I don’t get out much. Except going back and forth between bosses.”
“If you think I’m going to touch you anywhere, you’re incredibly wrong.” I folded my arms.
“Why would I want you to do that?” he asked, his voice high with confusion.
“Um, well,” I said. “Now everything’s just awkward.”
His demeanor changed. He furrowed his brow. “God, I’ve got to turn down all this masculinity,” he exclaimed “It’s giving girls like you the wrong idea.”
I turned away and looked out the window. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another.
CHAPTER 10
No Matter How Small, You Still Have Skills – Use Them
JOAQUIN WAS A MAN of few words. He lit up a cigar and puffed away at it, dispelling smoke in my face. I grimaced and tried to discreetly wave it away, in case I was seen as being rude. If this was pre-Apocalypse world and I was stuck in the car with him, be it as a courteous drive home or a date of low expectations, his silence would have made me nervous. Usually in that kind of situation, it would have made me amp up the casual chit chat, because that’s just a guard against an unwanted physical advance. However, just because the world had been destroyed and there were a few survivors still around, didn’t mean awkward silences weren’t still a thing.
“Boy, you know what I miss?” I asked, my voice fast and half an octave higher than usual. “Target. Such a good store.”
Joaquin said nothing, just stared at the road, letting cigar smoke curl around his head.
“I bought these shoes; they’re like brown color blocked Mary Janes, like one part is lighter than the other and tons of people complimented me on it. Super comfortable and found them in the clearance. Like, thirteen dollars or something.” I let my voice trail off. “Really good deals.”
Again, Joaquin was silent. I had just watched him kill four men by setting the house on fire and had no idea what was going on in his brain. Was I next? Was he going to do it again? Was he going to dump me off at Arby’s? Did they still make those tasty potato cakes? Who was going to take care of Bernadette?
“Let’s make one thing clear,” he said. “You’re not my type.”
With that, he got out of the car.
There’s nothing more disappointing than realizing that building relationships still sucks even after the Apocalypse, especially with a man who might kill you. Despite that, I knew that pickings were slim, relationship wise. He didn’t at least want to make one awkward advance?
“What’s your favorite show?” I asked nervously as I tried to keep my tone light. “You had a TV in that house…” I let my voice get super quiet, “…before you blew it up.”
Joaquin wordlessly pulled into the parking lot of a Costco, whose normally brightly lit sign was completely dim. By this point, I was still talking, but my voice was even higher, faster and now shaky.
“…and that’s why I can’t wear ankle socks.”
“Shut up,” he said as pulled the car to a complete stop.
I happily nodded and obeyed.
He flicked his lights on twice and waited. I took deep breaths, fearful that I was going to have to come up with a plan, and quickly, to get out of him making that last stop at Arby’s.
The windows were made of plastic bags. Maybe I could grab and pull my way out. I cast a furtive look on the floor under the seats, searching for a jack or a bat or something intimidating weapon wise. All I could see was some pairs of men’s tighty whiteys and a book that looked like it was about Polish time travelers.
He flicked his lights on and off again and this time a figure of a man appeared in the darkness. Following him where several smaller figures, all women.
“Joaquin!” the man yelled. “Get out here!”
Joaquin scrambled out, but before he left the car he put his finger over my mouth.
“Shush,” he said.
He ran over to the mysterious man and gave him a giant hug. I watched him lead the man over to one of the doors of the Costco, then use the key Jeremy had given him to let the man and his women inside.
I grabbed the door handle, jiggled it and then tore at the plastic. I hefted myself out the window and awkwardly fell out of the car. I picked myself up and ran across that parking lot. I figured I could make it heading west. There were some lights placed far apart and maybe there was another quarantine, maybe another Army base where I could be registered and maybe there was a family member, clutching my photo and praying for my return and maybe someone wanted to test me for a disease, after all. I could be open to it, in exchange for a better purpose to life. My mind couldn’t bring up any specific family member. Any one of them would do, just someone to make me feel home again.
I didn’t get far, as out of nowhere a blunt force grabbed me and slammed me down to the hard asphalt.
“Ow!” I screamed as it ground into my face.
Joaquin’s wide fleshly face appeared above me, shaking his finger. “I told you not to move.”
“No, you didn’t. You told me to shut up,” I said. “Which I followed. Until now. You didn’t say anything about leaving the car.”
“Joaquin, who is this?” asked a man’s voice.
“Found her,” he said quietly. “In exactly the way you said.”
I sat up and winced from the pain of coming face-to-face with gravity. “Excuse me?”
The man came closer and bent down. In the flickering light of the one working lamp in the parking lot, I recognized him as my old boss.