The Gates of Byzantium

CHAPTER 9


JOSH




HE WOKE UP with Gaby’s elbow in his ribs, and when that didn’t work, she began pushing him back and forth until he opened his eyes and yawned. Gaby looked beautiful with the sunlight over her face, but then again, she always looked beautiful.

At the moment she also looked a little afraid. “I hear a car coming,” she said in a hushed voice.

Josh sat up and listened.

He could hear a sound, but it was still too far away and he couldn’t be sure if it was a car or something else. He scrambled up from some stained bedsheets. Josh moved toward the wall and stood under the small window and listened.

Gaby was right, it was a car, and it was getting closer. “I have to go upstairs,” he said. “To make sure.”

Gaby looked horrified at the thought. “Josh, we don’t know what’s up there. Anything could have come into the house last night while we were asleep down here.”

“I’ll be okay.” He found that he could fake confidence if he tried hard enough, even if every ounce of him just wanted to stay down here in the basement with Gaby.

He picked up Matt’s revolver, resting on top of the backpack where he had laid it last night. For some reason, the gun felt much heavier this morning, but maybe that was just his imagination. He stared up at the basement door and felt his heart beating loudly against his chest. It was stupid, he knew. Only an idiot would go out there. There could be bloodsuckers in the kitchen, for God’s sake, that had slipped in sometime during the night and were now lying in wait for him.

He should stay down here. With Gaby. That was the smart thing.

And he was smart, wasn’t he? Of course he was.

“Josh, don’t go,” Gaby said behind him.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, and before she could respond, he hurried up the stairs because if he didn’t, if he let her argue, he knew he would change his mind. Josh didn’t overestimate himself. Being brave wasn’t something that came easily to him, especially when Gaby was there begging him to do the opposite.

He stopped at the top of the stairs and pressed his ear against the door. He listened, waiting a full thirty seconds, and didn’t open the door until he was satisfied he didn’t hear anything on the other side. No footsteps, no sounds of any kind at all. Of course, they could be playing possum, waiting for him. That was possible, too.


This is so stupid.

He unlocked the door, then quickly opened it and slipped out into the kitchen. He turned and closed the basement door behind him, then turned back around again, the revolver out front, holding his breath.

He was relieved to find a brightly lit kitchen, already filled with morning sun flooding through the windows above the sink as well as other windows in the living room. Everything was where it should be. He hoped.

He glanced down at his watch: 8:17 A.M.

Josh moved toward the front door, entering the foyer. More lights in the room made him breathe a little easier. He knew the bloodsuckers didn’t hide in dark corners in brightly lit rooms. They hid in rooms that were dark, like that back room in the store, where Matt was bitten. The creatures weren’t stupid. Far from it. They sure as hell had proven that eight months ago.

He hurried toward the window and looked out. He could hear the car getting closer. Soon, he saw the nose of a GMC turning the corner and cruising up the street in his direction. Josh lowered himself to the floor, with just his eyes peering out from behind the windowsill. The curtains fluttered above him, and he realized with slight anxiety that the window had been open all night.

How had he missed that? He was thankful nothing had come in during the night. God, he hoped nothing had come in during the night…

As the truck passed by on the street, Josh saw Manley behind the steering wheel, scanning the area with those cold, reptilian eyes of his. His heart began racing at the possibility of being caught by Manley. Of all their captors, the man scared him the most. There was just something so wrong about that guy.

When Manley and the GMC finally passed the house and turned right onto another street, Josh let out a big sigh and sat down on the floor to compose himself.

After a moment, he got up and headed back into the kitchen, where he opened the refrigerator and almost fainted at the overwhelming stench of rotten food. He held his breath and searched through the slabs of cheese and meat teeming with maggots. At least some life was thriving at the end of the world.

Josh grabbed a two-liter bottle of Coke and four warm bottles of water. He closed the refrigerator and finally let himself gasp for air again.

Next, he raided the cabinets and closets, looking for food. He opened one of the drawers and saw glossy silver packages of Kung Fu noodles stacked high.

Jackpot, mofos!

*

GABY LOOKED GLAD to see him coming back through the basement door, but she was even more glad see the bags of Kung Fu noodles in his arms. “Oh my God, I’m so hungry,” she said, and quickly pulled open one of the bags and broke off a big piece of noodle and stuffed it into her mouth.

“How is it?” he asked.

“Food,” she said between a mouthful of noodles.

He laughed and handed her a bottle of water. “Try not to choke on it.”

“Trying,” she grinned back.

Sandra gratefully took another bag of noodles from him. “Wow, Kung Fu noodles. I haven’t had these since college.”

“Where did you go to school?” he asked.

“Baylor. That was a lifetime ago.” She wandered back to her corner, where she opened the bag and pulled out a big piece of noodle and bit into it, looking utterly satisfied.

Josh sat down next to Gaby and opened a bag. The noodles were a bit stale, and didn’t make that crackling sound he was used to. But they tasted okay, and that was what mattered. He happily ate his entire bag and chased them down with some warm Coke.

They sat in the basement and ate in silence. The only sounds were their chewing and drinking.

Josh found himself oddly content. Sure, his parents were probably dead, and his friends were probably all dead, too. But he had Gaby sitting here next to him, so close that every time she went to pinch noodles from her bag of Kung Fu, her shoulder rubbed up against him. She had washed and scratched away as much of Betts’s blood as she could, but there were still specks of red clinging to her fingers. She seemed to not notice, though.

After a while, Gaby said, “Do you remember Peter Brolin?”

Josh had to think about it. “Peter Brolin? He went to our school, right?”

“Yeah. He graduated when we were juniors.”

“Big guy? With a big nasty mole under his chin?”

Gaby giggled. He thought that was the sweetest sound he had ever heard, and it made him happy for some reason. “Yeah, him,” she said.

He frowned. His memories of Peter Brolin, aka Mole Man, were not filled with happy moments. In fact, they were downright torturous, and the only reason it took him a while to recall the kid was because Josh had purposefully scrubbed the guy’s existence from his mind.

“What about him?” he asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“He was the one who came to my house that night,” Gaby said softly. “When everything first happened. He attacked my dad. He had changed a lot already, but I still recognized him. I don’t know if he came there on his own, or…for some other reason.”

“You think he came to your home on purpose?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. He liked me,” she said, and he could see she was reliving that night all over again.

So we share that now, too. Our mutual nightmares about Peter “Mole Man” Brolin. F*ck you, Mole Man.

“Anyways,” she said, and that was it.

It was quiet again, except for the sounds of crunching. Josh was already on his second bag. Even stale, the noodles tasted damn good. Or maybe he was just really hungry. It was in those long moments of silence that Josh finally remembered the radio. Betts’s radio, that he had grabbed before they left the semitrailer yesterday. He got up and went over to the backpack, opened it and took out the radio.

“What’s that?” Gaby asked.

“Betts’s radio.”

“Why did you bring it? There’s no one out there but them.”

“Exactly,” he said, and sat back down and turned on the radio. He made sure not to touch the frequency dial or do anything but turn on the power.

They listened, but the only sounds they heard were static.

“Are we supposed to hear something?” Gaby asked.

Josh shrugged. “I was hoping to hear them talking over the radio.”

“They might not know you took it,” Sandra said from across the room.

Josh nodded. “Hopefully.”

“And if they do?” Gaby asked.

“Then they’ll probably try to trick us,” Josh said. “Lure us into an ambush or something. I don’t know. I just thought it might come in handy.”

Gaby gave him an approving look. “It’s quick thinking.”

“Thanks.”

“Can we use it to call anyone for help?”

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t know where to begin. I mean, there are a lot of frequencies out there. For someone to hear me, they’d have to be tuned into the same frequency and listening at the same time, and what are the chances of that?”

“Not very good, I guess.”

Suddenly the static disappeared and for a second Josh thought the radio had turned off by itself. But it hadn’t. Instead, it squawked loudly, and he heard, loud and clear, Folger’s voice: “Are you done?”

“I’m finishing up the subdivision now,” a male voice answered through the radio.

Each time someone else talked, there was a loud squawk.

“You took your sweet time,” Folger said.

“F*ck off,” the other voice said.

“Does anyone recognize who Folger’s talking to?” Josh asked.


“Manley,” Sandra said. “I think that’s Manley.”

“Which one is he?” Gaby asked.

“The one with the scary eyes.”

“Oh.”

Josh said, “Shhh.”

“They’re gone,” another voice was saying through the radio. Del, Josh thought, recognizing the voice. “We’re wasting our time. Let’s get out of here.”

“This place is a gold mine,” Folger said. “We’re not going anywhere until we pick it clean.”

“Who put you in charge?” Del wanted to know.

“I did,” Folger said.

Josh thought he heard Del snort, but maybe that was just static.

They went back and forth like that for a while, further convincing Josh that Folger was only in command because the others didn’t want the job. Or didn’t care who had it. They didn’t respect him in the slightest; that was obvious now.

They kept listening and discovered that Folger had the others running around town looking for them. Unless, of course, Folger had figured out that Josh had the radio and all of this was one big ruse for their benefit. Josh didn’t completely ignore the possibility. Anything was possible with men like Folger. So Josh reminded himself to be careful, to take everything he heard with a grain of salt. Even so, he started to feel better about their situation the more Folger and his flunkies seemed to be getting farther and farther away from them in their search.

“They don’t know where we are,” Gaby said, looking as happy as he had seen her in the last few days.

“Seems that way,” Josh nodded.

“You think they’ll leave eventually?”

“Eventually.”

“How many of these did you find?” Gaby asked, holding up her empty bag of Kung Fu noodles.

“There’s a stack of them in a drawer in the kitchen. I’ll go back up and get more later.”

“More of this goodness?” Sandra said. “Do you think I’ll suddenly know Kung Fu if I eat enough of this stuff?”

Gaby and Josh chuckled, and Sandra smiled. It was the first time they had seen the older woman smile, and Josh realized Sandra was actually very pretty. His friend Hank would say a woman like Sandra had “curves in all the right places.” Not that Hank knew anything about a woman’s curves other than what he saw on the Internet. Hank was a virgin when Josh knew him, and he probably died a virgin, too.

Died? He wishes. He’s probably one of those bloodsuckers right now.

Morning had turned into noon, and the sun outside ceased to feel soothing against their skin. The basement was turning hot again, and without an air conditioner or any ventilation, they started to sweat. They had been lucky last night, he realized, to find the basement just as it was cooling off in the evening. And then night had come and it had cooled off even more.

“Maybe we can cover up the window,” Sandra suggested.

“That might not be a good idea,” Josh said. “Manley drove past earlier today. He might have glanced at the basement and seen the window. What if he comes back and sees that it’s now covered, unlike before? It might make him suspicious.”

“That’s a big if,” Sandra said.

“It’s just something to consider.”

Sandra seemed to think about it. “You’re probably right. Those creatures might notice a covered basement window, too. They’re not stupid. I used to think they were dumb animals, but they’re not. They’re clever.”

Josh nodded. “They would have to be, to have done what they did.”

“God, stop talking about them,” Gaby said. She wrapped her arms around her chest reflexively. “They already scare me shitless as it is. I don’t need to know they’re smart, too.”

“Sorry,” he said.

“How old are you, anyway?” Sandra asked him.

The question caught him off guard. “Eighteen.”

“You sound older.”

“I do?”

“You think older, I guess is what I mean,” Sandra said.

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Like back there, in the semitrailer. I would never have thought of baiting Betts like that. But you did. How did you know he would fall for it?”

“I guess I know how guys think.” He smiled. “We’re kind of sick motherf*ckers, you know.”

Sandra laughed. It didn’t take long for Gaby to join in.

Josh smiled. He was glad to see them both laughing. He knew they had been through a lot, especially Sandra. The end of the world was one thing, but what had happened to her afterward—and almost happened to Gaby—was beyond anything he would ever experience as a man. Josh was ashamed of his species, and even ashamed of himself whenever he thought of Gaby in an overtly sexual way, which was often.

It’s the end of the world, and we’re still thinking exclusively with our dicks. Way to go, mofos.

*

THEY HEARD GUNSHOTS around one in the afternoon.

First it was just one shot, then it was two, then three.

At first, Josh thought someone was just shooting into the air. Maybe Folger and the others were bored or trying to lure them out. He wouldn’t put it past them. By now they would have gotten tired of driving all over town searching for them, and they might have decided a new tactic was in order.

But then there was a series of gunshots, and Josh knew it wasn’t a trick. It was a full-on gun battle. After a while, he traced the sounds back to the municipal area, with the courthouse and the police department and the public library. Back to where they had been kept in the semitrailer. Sound tended to carry these days, Josh knew, without all the usual noises and distractions of a city filled with people.

Josh walked over to the basement window, as if he could see what was happening if he stared outside long enough. Gaby and Sandra stood next to him, and they listened for the longest time, no one saying a word.

It went on for minutes. Maybe five minutes.

“Josh,” Gaby said suddenly, “try the radio.”

“Oh, shit,” Josh said, and ran over to the radio.

He had turned it off because no one was saying anything, but now he turned it back on and immediately heard Folger’s voice: “—we’re going around them.”

“Hurry the f*ck up, then,” another male voice said. It wasn’t Manley or Del. Josh would recognize them by now. How many were left? Two. Betts was dead. Or probably dead. That left the short man and the Hispanic.

“Just keep them pinned down,” Folger said. “How many do you see?”

“A lot,” the Hispanic said, “but only two seem to be shooting back. Dammit, they know what they’re doing. They’re not straying from the trucks.”

“Shoot the gas tank,” Folger said.

“It’s not that easy,” the Hispanic said irritably. “Just get over here already.”

“We’re on our way.”

There was suddenly a burst of continued gunfire, like someone was firing on full automatic. Then one shot—and a few seconds later, a second shot—and then it was quiet.

“What happened?” Folger said.

“F*ck, I think they got Hiller,” the Hispanic said.

“Hiller? Hiller, come in.” It was Folger again. “Hiller! Shit. Is he dead?”

“Well, he’s not shooting anymore, so probably he’s dead. Are you coming?”

There wasn’t a reply.

“Folger, dammit, are you coming or what?” the Hispanic asked again. He waited for a reply.


Josh and the girls waited anxiously, too.

“Folger? Folger!”

There was no reply.

They waited, but they didn’t hear anything else. The radio had gone dead.

“It’s over,” Josh said.

“What do you think happened?” Gaby asked.

“Sounded like a gun fight. Maybe Folger and his buddies met their match.”

“Maybe the new people shot and killed the f*ckers,” Sandra said.

“They killed one, at least,” Josh said. “Hiller. The short guy.”

“How many does that leave?” Gaby asked.

“Four. I didn’t hear Betts on the radio once. Either he’s dead or he’s not running around.”

“Serves him right,” Sandra said, and Josh saw her exchange a look with Gaby, as if to say, “You did nothing wrong.”

Gaby nodded back at the other woman, but said nothing.

Josh glanced around the basement, then at Gaby and Sandra. It was such a small room, and it was so hot. They weren’t going to be able to stay in here forever, he knew that now. Hell, they might not even be able to last the day.

So what other options were there?

“Stay here,” Josh said. “I’m going to find out what happened.”

“What?” Gaby said. “Are you crazy? You can’t go out there. Even if there’s only four of them left, there’s still four of them left, Josh.”

“Or maybe they’re running,” he said, trying to convince himself. “You heard Folger on the radio. He was supposed to go around and get into the gun battle, but he didn’t. I think he’s running. So that leaves the people they were shooting at.”

“We don’t know who those people are, either. They could be just as dangerous as Folger. Or worse.”

“She’s right,” Sandra said. “We don’t know who they are.”

Josh nodded. They were both right.

Not that it mattered. Whatever happened, they still couldn’t stay down here. Not forever.

“I won’t let them see me,” he said. “I’ll hide, sneak around, keep a low profile.”

“This is crazy, Josh,” Gaby said.

He could see how worried she looked, but instead of making him relent, it only steeled his resolve. Seeing her like this made him more courageous, because he had to protect her. He couldn’t do that down here.

I’m the guy…

“We have to find out,” Josh said. “We can’t stay down here forever.”

Sandra and Gaby exchanged a look, and he knew he had gotten to them.

“Be careful,” Gaby said.

“I’ll be back. I promise.”

He headed for the stairs. He had Matt’s gun tucked into his front waistband. He touched the handle now, just to make sure it was still there.

You and me, Matt ol’ buddy, all the way.

*

PROS AND CONS: What were they?

Pros: He was still in one piece, and so was Gaby. They were in a place Folger and his people couldn’t find. He liked their chances of staying hidden for a while, living off food in the house. Eventually, they could probably do something about the heat.

Cons: They couldn’t stay down there forever. Eventually they would have to come out. The food would eventually run out. The basement would eventually get too hot as summertime churned on. And cabin fever would eventually get to them. It was why they had never stayed in one town for too long, back when it was just him and Gaby and Matt, and why they had kept moving ever since the end of the world. Eventually, everything ran its course.

Conclusion: He had no choice. He had to find out what had happened along Main Street. He had to find out if Folger and the others were still out there, and who the people they were trading gunfire with were. God knew he didn’t want to leave the basement, leave Gaby, but there was no choice. Sooner or later, they would have to venture back out into the real world.

Or what was left of it, anyway.

The good news? He had Gaby.

Well, he didn’t have her, but he was with her, and that was a pretty good start.

Josh moved through the subdivision slowly, taking his time. The heat was already becoming insufferable, and he didn’t want to think about how much hotter it was going to get in another few hours. He darted between houses, heading south, which would take him back to Chance Road, and from there he could pick his way toward the municipal area. It made sense that the new arrivals would stumble across Folger’s people there, and a shoot-out would erupt. It must have been like stumbling across a nest of snakes. He just hoped the new arrivals weren’t snakes, too, or it was back to the basement.

He peeked into houses as he passed, filing them away for future reference in case they did have to stay in the basement a little longer. He saw empty homes, some with fading brown stains along the windowsills. Blood splatters. Josh was surprised that so many of the houses looked undisturbed, as if their owners had simply decided to abandon them. He liked to think most of them got away, but of course that was bullshit.

He moved at a brisk pace, staying behind houses whenever he could, though there were long spots where he had to run across open spaces because there was no shelter or places to hide behind. He walked through the tall, overgrown grass of the lodges and was relieved when he finally reached the more wooded areas again.

Josh trudged through someone’s farm and skirted around a barn that looked just a bit too creepy. There was no telling what was hiding in there, watching him through holes along the rotted wall. Just the thought made him shiver involuntarily. Eight months later, and he still couldn’t get used to the idea of things hiding behind every window, in every building, waiting for the first hint of darkness to come out. How he managed to keep going, without going crazy, was a mystery, but he figured it probably had something to do with Gaby.

He slowed down when he finally reached one of the half-dozen or so houses along Chance Road that sat directly across the street from the municipal area. Hiding behind a house with brown and white bricks, he could see the three buildings across the street, sitting side by side. It was quiet, and the silence unnerved Josh more than he wanted to admit.

The first thing he noticed was that the semitrailer where he, Gaby, and Sandra had been held last night was gone. There were no signs of it, and he wondered if Folger and the others had in fact taken off after the shoot-out. In its place, there were two trucks he hadn’t seen before—one blue and the other black. They both looked shot up, with broken windows.

Suddenly there was a loud explosion from behind him and Josh almost pissed his pants. He fell to the ground so fast he smacked his face into the dirt and stunned himself, but he quickly got over it because someone wasn’t just behind him, they were close to him. He felt sick to his stomach. How had he managed to walk all the way from the woods to the house without seeing them? Better yet, how had they managed not to see him?

Josh kept very still, pressed flat against the warm dirt. The wall of the house was to his left, but there was only overgrown grass to his right. He prayed it was high and thick enough to conceal him when he heard footsteps approaching. He closed his eyes and willed his entire body not to move. He might have forgotten to breathe, though he couldn’t really be sure at the moment.

Then the sounds of footsteps mercifully faded, and Josh finally managed to summon enough courage to force his eyes open again.

He could see a figure moving in front of him. Away from him.

Oh, thank you, God.

He lifted his head slightly, watching as the man—a big man, though he looked like he was in pain and was leaning a bit on one leg as he walked—crossed the street, holding something in his left hand. Josh looked for a long time before he decided it was a gun. A shotgun. One of those sawed-offs that Mel Gibson carried in The Road Warrior. That shotgun was responsible for the big boom he had heard moments ago.


The man was walking back toward the courthouse.

Josh pushed himself up into a crouch. He looked over his shoulder, in the direction he thought the man had come from. What was back there? What had the man shot? He considered backtracking to find out. Maybe an animal…or a person.

The gun battle was over a long time ago, even before he had started off from the house. Folger and the others seemed to have left, or maybe they were hiding in another part of town, waiting to strike. Folger struck him as that kind of conniving a*shole. If Folger was still around, the man with the shotgun hadn’t seemed particularly concerned about it. And Josh was sure he hadn’t seen the man before—he would remember someone that big—so he wasn’t part of Folger’s crew.

Josh remained still and went over his options. The way he saw it, he didn’t really have a whole lot of choices. It was either stay here or go back.

He decided to stay put for a while, to see who else came out of the buildings across the street. He remembered what the Hispanic had said over the radio. There were a “lot” of people in the two trucks, but only two men were shooting back at them.

He reminded himself that Gaby and Sandra were waiting for him back at the subdivision. By now, they would be worried, especially Gaby. How long had he been gone? Josh checked his watch.

A little over fifty minutes.

He decided to give it thirty more minutes before heading back.

*

INSTEAD, HE STAYED for forty minutes.

Then forty became an hour.

He couldn’t leave. Not yet. Gaby was probably hysterical by now, but he reasoned he had to stick it out. He had to make sure he saw them first, this new group of people. The fact that they had fought it out with Folger was a good sign. What was that old saying?

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

He just hoped his enemy’s enemy didn’t turn out to be his enemy, too. That was a very real possibility. But he didn’t have many choices at the moment. This was the world he lived in now. And here, he had to take chances, like back in the semitrailer with Gaby and Betts. He had put her in harm’s way by playing a hunch. The old Josh would never have done something so reckless, so risky. But the old Josh was dead, replaced by Josh 2.0. Time would tell which version of him was better.

Finally, Josh’s patience was rewarded when the police station/courthouse doors opened and he saw two men emerge. Neither one was the same big man with the shotgun Josh had seen earlier. He could tell because they were thinner (not skinny, just leaner) and carried assault rifles, sidearms, and looked like they had some kind of assault vests on, though Josh was still too far away to make out details.

Josh got off his butt and went into a crouch. He watched one of the men close the tailgate of the blue truck before they started talking about something. Strategy, maybe. He couldn’t quite tell who was in charge. Maybe they both were. Maybe neither.

A moment later, the big man with the sawed-off shotgun came out, still walking gingerly on one good leg. Josh wondered if the man’s limp was from this afternoon’s gun battle with Folger. The big man joined the first two at the truck, and they looked at a map spread out across the black truck’s hood.

The three men were talking, pointing at the map and up and down the street, when the courthouse doors opened again and two women came out. Then behind them, two little girls. They ran around the trucks, chasing each other. They looked to be seven or eight, and they were laughing.

Josh waited and listened and watched.

He considered all the new evidence and weighed his options again.

Pros and cons: What were they?

Pros: These could be potential allies. People who took care of kids who were obviously not afraid of them were the exact opposite of people like Folger and Manley and the others. Maybe these new people were even married and those were their children. Even better. That meant family, loyalty, and bonding. People like that might welcome additions to their group.

Cons: Or they might not. Just because the people in front of him looked decent, it didn’t mean they were. Maybe instead of a semitrailer, they were keeping their victims locked way inside the courthouse. And these people were obviously violent. They were good at it, too, to have fought off Folger’s people. Even killed one of them. Could he really trust his life, and by extension, Gaby’s, to people who were so good with guns?

Conclusion: F*ck it.

Josh pulled Matt’s gun out of his waistband and laid it down on the dirt and stood up and began walking across the street. He did it quickly, trying to think as little as possible, because he knew if he thought about it too much, he would change his mind.

Have to risk it. Have to risk everything…

One of the kids saw him first. She said something and pointed, and the men turned. The first two men unslung their rifles. The two women were staring. The big man with the shotgun seemed to be making sure he had shells in his weapon.

This is a mistake. I’m going to die.

Oh God, I’m going to die.

“Don’t shoot!” he shouted across the street, raising his hands as far above his head as they would go. “I’m not armed! Don’t shoot!”

They watched him for a moment, then one of the men jogged forward. “Stop!” the man shouted.

Josh stopped in his tracks and didn’t move. He was in the middle of the street, and instinctively glanced left and right before realizing, Oh, right, no traffic.

The man moving toward Josh looked young and had slightly brown-ish blond hair. He moved smoothly toward Josh, then circled him, the point of his rifle aimed low. Not threatening, but ready.

Please, don’t shoot me, he thought, but was too afraid to say the words out loud.

The man continued circling him, looking him over, probably checking him for weapons. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Josh.”

“What are you doing here, Josh? You alone?”

“Yes,” he lied, his heart racing. “Josh. My name’s Josh. Please don’t shoot me.”

“You already said that,” the man said, looking slightly amused.

“I did?”

“Yep.”

“Oh. Please don’t shoot me.”

“Only if you tell me your name.”

“But I—” Josh realized the guy was messing with him and stopped. “Oh.”

The man chuckled, then motioned for Josh to move forward. Josh did, but it took a few seconds before his feet would start behaving normally enough that he didn’t almost fall on his face with every step.

Josh heard the man moving behind him, but he decided to concentrate on the group waiting for them instead. The other man with the rifle was scanning the roads and the area, while the women had gathered up the kids and put them into one of the trucks. The girls peered curiously out at him through one of the few windows that was still intact.

“Hey, kid,” the man behind him said.

“Yes?” Josh said.

Please don’t shoot me.

“You know anything about computers?” the man asked.

“What?”

“Computers,” the man said, as if that was the most normal topic in the world to be talking about at the moment. “You know anything about computers? You look like you do.”

I do?

“A little,” he said.

“You know how to fix them?”

“A little,” he said again. This conversation was going in a very odd direction. “Why?”

“Just wondering. You can put your hands down now.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“No sweat. Hey, you wanna hear a joke?”


“Um, okay.”

Just as long as you don’t shoot me.

“So these two subway conductors are out to lunch one day, and one of them says to the other, ‘You know what, I think my sex life is getting too boring.’ The other guy asks, ‘Why do you say that?’ The first train conductor groans, then says, ‘Well, it’s always the same thing. In and out, in and out, and I never get anywhere!’”

Josh didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, or beg the guy not to shoot him again.

“You’re all right, kid,” the guy said.

Oh, thank you, God.