Rabid

working in the kitchen.  Tina had taken a large cardboard box from somewhere and positioned it on top of the counter, slowly filling up with the odds and ends from the cupboards.

Taylor said, “I didn’t mean we had to pack for weeks.  I was thinking of enough for a day or two maybe, but you’ve got quite a collection there.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Tina said.  “I think I’d have to be starving to death before I could consider eating any of it, but it is edible.”  She topped off the box by adding the jars of peanut butter and jelly and carefully placed the loaf of bread on top.  It almost felt like they were getting ready to go on a picnic.  “One of you two will have to carry it to the car.  It’s heavy.”

“Any luck?” Carl asked.

Taylor shook his head.  “Nope.”

“I didn’t think he kept a gun in the house,” Tina said.  “In a town like this anybody that keeps a gun uses it for hunting.  My dad wasn’t a hunter.  Nobody really keeps a gun for protection.  Probably one of the few places left where people still leave their doors unlocked.”

Taylor kept thinking they had been stranded in an alternate version of Coldwater.  A town like this or a town like Coldwater, were probably endangered species this day and age, but he supposed there were still a few of them left.  Almost made you feel fortunate.  Like you were privy to a secret only a select few knew about.

 Taylor went into the living room and parted the slats in the Venetian blinds.  The street appeared empty.  The Escort parked on the street, looking more like a tired prehistoric animal.  The rain had let up.

From behind him, Carl said, “Well?  That everything?”

“Unless you can think of anything else.”

“A bazooka maybe,” Carl said, uttering a nervous laugh.

“Too big to lug around.  I’d settle for a shotgun.”

“Or a Super Soaker.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“Hey, it would work.”

Tina said, “It’s so obvious the two of you are brothers.  You look nothing alike, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”  She tried to grab the box of food supplies, but it was too heavy.

“Here.  Let me take it,” Carl said.

“Grab the flashlight.”

Tina disappeared into the kitchen and returned a moment later with the flashlight, aiming the beam at the ground.  She handed it to Taylor.  He switched it off and peeked through the Venetian blinds again.

“Let’s get going.”

Taylor opened the door.  He held it open for the others and followed them down to the car.  He opened the back door, took the box of supplies from Carl, and motioned for Tina to get in.  He slid the box in beside her.  “You’re not a backseat driver are you?”

“No.  Why?”

“Bad joke.”

“It’s a tough audience tonight.”

“No shit,” he said.  He liked this girl.  She was different than a lot of the girls he knew.  She didn’t act like she needed to be saved.  At least not in the figurative sense, since given their situation, they could have all used a little saving.

He smiled at her and closed the door.

“I take it you’re driving?” Carl asked.

In answer, Taylor slid in behind the wheel.  “Tina?”

“Yeah?”

“Do me a favor.  Hand the machete to Carl.”

Bet you never thought you’d hear yourself say that, Taylor thought.

He wheeled the car around and they set off into the night.  He expected some unseen force to prevent them from leaving town, but they reached the highway without incident.

Minutes of silence passed.  Finally, Tina’s home several miles behind them, Carl said, “It’s over a hundred and fifty miles.”

“About two hours.”

“Do we have enough gas?”

Taylor pushed his foot down on the accelerator until the speedometer hovered at seventy.  “I hope so,” he said.

Chapter 5 Heading Back

He paid close attention to the gas gauge as though the needle wouldn’t drop if he stared at it long enough.  It was at the quarter tank mark.  Taylor had the distance figured at another hundred miles or so.  They would be cutting it close.

Tina had pushed the box of food supplies onto the floor and slept on the backseat like a cat curled up on a couch.

Carl had his seat reclined back, his eyes closed, but he would wake fitfully every few minutes.

“Bad dreams?”

“With you behind the wheel?  How can I not?”

Interstate 80 ran parallel to the highway.  It would slip into sight for a stretch and then disappear behind low hills or because of a gradual distancing, but they would always reunite later like old lovers.  Taylor had seen a fair share of abandoned cars sprinkled here and there; the same problem plagued the highway, but to a lesser degree.  Most of the vehicles they passed were parked along the shoulder or had veered off into the ditch.  He had come across an aging Chevy truck that was parked in the middle of the road, straddling the yellow center line, but had managed to slip around it by driving with two wheels on the gravel shoulder.

The storm had moved in the opposite direction.  Taylor had watched the clouds break away, thin out, and then dissolve altogether.  He cracked the window to allow in the cool night air.

Billions of stars filled the sky.  Under different circumstances, he would have enjoyed setting up a lawn chair and stargazing for a while.  He wondered if Tina could appreciate something like that.  The two of them outside on a chilly night, bundled up in a heavy blanket, heads tilted toward the sky.

Get your head in the game, he thought.

His eyelids grew heavy.  Lack of sleep took its toll most fiercely when he was driving.  He switched on the radio, dialing through both the FM and AM bands.  He had tried the same thing fifty miles back, knowing full well it was a lost cause.

One night.  Is that as long as it takes for civilization to be torn down?  I would have given us more credit than that.

They were driving through what was considered a remote area.  On a good day - a normal day - he could find a dozen or so stations on this same stretch of highway, five of which were at a listenable clarity.  Was it so hard to believe that those were defunct at the moment?  What they needed was to be near a big city; try dialing through again.

Taylor remembered Tina’s cell phone.  He hadn’t been able get a signal in town, but Tina had said that wasn’t out of the ordinary, and that once you got going on the highway for a time - he thought she had said ten minutes - you were good to go.

“You all right?”

Carl’s voice startled him out of his bubble of silence.

“Yeah.  Why?”

“Just checking.  Let me know if you need me to drive.”  Carl’s eyes remained closed as he spoke.

“I’m good for a little while.  About a hundred miles to go.  Give or take.”

“This is it, huh?”  He scooted himself up in his seat, opening his eyes momentarily and starting at the road.