Michael held it by the barrel as if it were nothing more than a stick. He stared at the weapon, sizing it up. It looked like something he’d done before. In cities like this one, you paid with whatever you had. And sometimes you paid with whatever could be taken away.
“I’ll see what I can do for you,” Michael said, and turned to walk out of the room.
We’d been in the city for two days now. I went through Cooper’s bag and found an MRE and a canteen full of water. It was our last meal, and the last of what Cooper had for us.
When I picked up the canteen to take a drink it felt like bad luck in my hand. I poured a little water into my cupped hand and looked at it. But I couldn’t stand the thought of drinking his water. It was as if something of him was still in it. I turned my hand over and let the water fall to the floor.
I suddenly realized that Santiago had been watching the entire gesture. I turned to look at him and he stared back at me. Then he looked down at the tiny puddle briefly and turned back to the hall.
The MRE was a slice of ham with au gratin potatoes, crackers, peanut butter, and a bag of M&Ms. We divided the meal up, and set the M&Ms aside.
I forced myself to eat, but I could hardly stomach my third of the meal. Then Zeller took out his pack of cards and he and Santiago played a game of spades for the bag of M&Ms. Santiago won. Another jet, or maybe the same one, flew low but incredibly fast over the city. The air boomed behind it, but what could it do for us?
Santiago told us to get a few hours of sleep. When one of us woke up, he’d take a nap himself. Soon, Zeller was breathing easy. I told Santiago that I would watch the door. We traded places and soon Santiago was asleep as well. It was lonely with both of them curled up in their corners.
I told myself that a convoy was on the way. That they were cutting fast down desert roads toward the city, hurrying to rescue us. The cavalry was on the charge. But I knew it wasn’t true. I knew that they wouldn’t be coming into the city for at least two weeks. They’d wait until sufficient forces had gathered. For the time being, they’d expect us to help ourselves, to make our own way out, or to stay hidden until they arrived.
I tried to think of something happy, the way you’re told to think of Hawaii and puppies if you’re dying of hypothermia. I remembered the eyelashes. When I was in basic training, and then later when I first arrived at Fort Drum, a girl I once loved used to send me letters, and every time I opened one of them there was an eyelash hidden in the folds of paper.
Santiago awoke late in the afternoon. Not having anything better to do, he went looking for a fuck. He didn’t say as much, but I could tell by the way he stepped out into the hallway. He strolled along slowly, then ran into a woman at the end of the hall. They didn’t say anything, it was just a look, and he followed her back to her room. They shut the door and the lock clicked loudly.
I was smoking a cigarette in the doorway when Santiago returned from his adventure. Zeller was just waking up from his nap. Santiago said he gave the woman the pack of M&Ms.
“It’s too bad we all don’t have a pack,” I said.
“That was the smartest thing I’ve done all day,” he said.
“Nice,” I said. “If only we had a truckload, we could fuck the whole city.”
“You want her?” Santiago asked, a smile creeping across his face. “I’m sure she’s game.” Now he was really grinning. “You probably wouldn’t have to offer her anything.”
“No,” I said, sickened at the thought of being where he had been.
“Zeller?” he asked.
“Why not?” replied Zeller. “You only live once,” he added, picking up his 9mm.
“Sure thing,” I said. “It’s not like any of them have AIDS.”
Santiago stepped out into the hallway and pointed Zeller to her room.
“I think we’ll be all right,” Santiago said as he returned to our room, “if we can just make it out of here.” He went back to his bag and collapsed on the floor beside it. He rested his head on his rucksack.
“The fighting happened so fast,” I said. “What could we do?”
“It’s too late now,” he said. “We’re so far gone I can’t feel myself anymore.”
Early that evening I went downstairs to talk with Michael. I wanted to know what he really thought about our chances. I wanted to feel as if I had some control of the situation, or at least a better understanding.
We’d decided to head north, in the hope that the Army might still be waiting for us. If this failed, at least we’d be free of the city, and we could set out for the port cities. I needed a sense of hope. Even if it was all an illusion.
Michael was sitting behind his desk reading one of the books I’d given him, The Strange Case of Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. At the beginning of every month I was in the Army my mother sent me banana bread and another classic book to last the month. She was proud of her green-eyed boy as he plugged away at the world, trying to get to the heart of things. Michael put the book aside as I approached. I looked, but didn’t see Cooper’s 9mm anywhere.
“Sit down,” he said, pointing at a couch to the side of his desk.
Dust rose as I took a seat, its particles faintly visible in the fading
