The Flight of the Silvers

Zack leaned against the driver’s door, nervously tapping his foot. Between all the traumas of the recent past and all his worries about the near future, he found the energy to mourn the sketchbook he’d left behind in Terra Vista. It was the last surviving relic of his old life. Now he had nothing left but memories.

 

Hannah emerged from the woods, red-faced and puffy-eyed. She’d gone into the trees to vomit, but it turned out all she needed was a few good minutes of unabashed weeping. She wiped her eyes and rested against the van.

 

“You okay?” Zack asked.

 

“Yes. Thank you. You’re still an asshole.”

 

He’d already apologized twice for making her run after the van. She didn’t care. She was suffering the second-worst morning of her life and she needed to be irrational about something.

 

He took her hand and pushed a small silver disc into her palm. “There.”

 

“What’s this?”

 

“Restitution. I found it in the cup holder.”

 

Hannah studied the coin. It was twice the size and value of a standard quarter, and bore the side-profile portrait of Theodore Roosevelt. She found the inscription under his head—We Persevere—to be ominously cryptic. She could only guess it had something to do with the Cataclysm.

 

“That’s all the money you found?” she asked.

 

“That’s all the money we own.”

 

She pocketed the coin. “Fifty cents. Lovely.”

 

A red sedan turned a sharp corner onto their road. Hannah tensed up and squeezed Zack’s arm. He squinted at the approaching vehicle.

 

“It’s okay. It’s not a cop car.”

 

Loud country-rock music blared from within as the vehicle rolled to a slow stop beside Zack and Hannah. The young driver turned off his radio and leaned over to the passenger side, whistling in wonder at the dilapidated van.

 

“Hoo-EE! I’ve seen some threeped-up rides in my time, amigos, but that is one unhappy son-of-a! You folks doing all right here?”

 

The man was slight in stature, but he dressed and acted to compensate. Beneath his wide gray cowboy hat were a pair of sunglasses large enough to qualify as novelty shades. His red denim shirt was garnished with rhine-stones. The man practically drowned his new acquaintances in his proud Southern drawl.

 

“We’re fine,” Zack assured him. “Bought a clunker. Clipped a deer. You know how it goes.”

 

“I hear that. Sure as hell do. Sometimes life just grabs you by the jangles and gives it a good ol’ squeeze!” He tipped his hat at Hannah. “If you’ll pardon the expression, ma’am.”

 

Even with his absurd shades, Hannah could tell he was aggressively unconcerned about her delicate ears and quite interested in the goods beneath her tank top. She crossed her arms uncomfortably.

 

“Sure I can’t help?” asked the cowboy. “I’m mighty handy with a wrench.”

 

Zack shook his head. “No thanks. We’re fine. We appreciate it though.”

 

The man kept smiling, his high cheer peppered with a hint of wry amusement.

 

“All righty. I’ll just mosey on along then. But if you’re ever feeling blue, just remember: it’s a brand-new day and the sun is shining bright. Yes, sir!”

 

He lowered his shades and offered Hannah a quick wink that was creepy enough to distract her from all her recent woes. Zack was intrigued by the “55” tattoo on the back of his right hand. He wondered if the significance of the number was cultural or personal.

 

For Evan Rander, it was very personal.

 

He revved his engine, then offered his two fellow Silvers a final preening smile.

 

“Y’all take care now. Keep walking.”

 

“Keep walking,” Zack repeated.

 

He and Hannah continued to watch the car as it disappeared to the east. Zack could have sworn he heard laughter over the loud, noxious music.

 

Hannah kept her gaze on the car’s dust trail. “Why’d you say ‘Keep walking’?”

 

“American expression. Means ‘Be well.’ ‘Stay strong.’ That sort of thing.”

 

“Oh.” She vaguely recalled the pony-haired girl at the supermarket saying the same thing. At the time, Hannah had taken it as a rude brush-off. Guess the kid was being nice.

 

Once Amanda finished Theo’s bandage and the last of the van’s useful items were collected into bags, there was little else to do but move on. The Silvers gathered at the side of the road.

 

Amanda watched Hannah caress her aching hand, then grabbed it for inspection.

 

“What are you doing, Amanda? I’m fine.”

 

“You’re not fine. You keep rubbing it and wincing.”

 

“Well, you’re not making it better by squeezing it.”

 

“Just let me check, okay?”

 

“Ow! Goddamn it!”

 

Amanda dropped Hannah’s arm. “We’ll have to wait and see, but I don’t think it’s fractured.”

 

“It is now!”

 

“Yes, thank you for yelling at me. That’s just what I need right now.”

 

Mia watched their exchange with dark fascination, then looked away when Amanda noticed her.

 

Zack pointed to the elevated highway in the distance, stretching deep into the sunrise. “I don’t know the name of that road, but it runs east. I say we travel underneath it until we hit the next town. Along the way, we can figure out what to do about money and food and all that. Is everyone okay with that idea?”

 

In slow succession, they all nodded. Zack studied their grim and weary faces.

 

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