Evelyn Earth Part 2

“There’s no one there, let’s go” I say hurriedly. As we slip inside I see the Asian boys from the corner of my eye making their way through the parking lot. There’s not as many people in here as there were outside. Something makes me think that the entrance must be barred, not jammed up. I make a mental note of where the service exit is and we move further into the warehouse. Two men rush past us and we narrowly miss their huge frames.

                “Fuck!” yells Maya

                “Shh, shut up!” I grab her by the arm and pull her behind the bottled drinks aisle, “Are you crazy? Do you want to make two angry men angrier? ”

                “They almost knocked us over!” she retorts sulkily and that’s when I realise that the reality of the situation hasn’t hit her yet. She’s still thinking about the right and wrong things to do as if we were still living in the same world.

                “Get over it, shits changed” I growl, “No one’s going to give you a helping hand or say sorry to you if you get hurt while you’re in their way. Start stuffing that backpack. The only thing that’s going to help us now are tuna cans and fucking bottled water.

               
We move throughout the store slowly, filling up on the essentials. Water bottles, canned foods and even some first aid stuff. I hit the jackpot with LED torches and batteries. With no power these will be the only things between us and the dead of night. That gets me thinking about all the other dangers in the night—all the lunatics outside burning down children’s rides and driving cars through buildings. I look around uneasily. There’s no one in this part of the warehouse at the moment. There all too busy still looting the dried goods aisles. Just in case I scurry over to a row of fire place accessories. Ripping open a long plastic box I find what was promised on the pretty picture on the front; a solid iron fire poker. It sits comfortably in my hand and I instantly feel better. The tip of the shaft ends in a sharp point with a mean looking hook underneath and it makes a whipping sound as I swing it around. I’m painfully aware of my girly arm and the way the weight of the iron makes my wrist sag ever so slightly.  

                “I wish we had a gun” I say to Maya as she comes over to see what I’m doing.

                “What for?” she looks quizzically at me before a pair of hands dart out of nowhere and pull her backpack off her shoulders. She falls backwards and her head slams into a display shelf.

                “Hey!” I yell as the back of an Asian kid recedes at lightning speed. The iron rod hangs useless at my side.

                “That’s fucking why” I murmur as I kneel before Maya, “You ok?”

                “I think my head is bleeding” she says.

                “We just lost half our supplies” I say as I help her up. There’s a load bang and my head snaps around. Men are yelling in the distance and I shuffle Maya further back into the aisle.

                “Stay here” I say as I move forward to get a better look. More load voices echo throughout he warehouse, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. Suddenly a man in uniform appears from behind the electronics aisle and I see the gun in his hands. There’s no denying that he’s behind the noise. I run back to Maya and pull her to her feet.

                “I need you to do exactly as I say” I look her square in the eye. My mind is going into overdrive.  

                “Um…”

                “You’re going to stumble out of this aisle and fall on the floor. Call out for help and clutch your head as if your about to pass out”

                “What why?”

                “Just do it!” I say before pushing her forward. She falls out into the walkway between aisles and cries out. I ease the backpack off my shoulders and grip the iron bar until my knuckles go white. I’m standing just out of view only a metre away from her. She cries out for help again and I can hear footfalls. Just as the cop appears her eyes catch mine and they are so wide they make her look like a scared child.

                I step forward and swing the bar down as hard as I can. A sickening crunch follows my blow as I raise the bar again and bring it down. Maya is screaming, but I block it out. He’s still moving, I need to finish this. I step even closer and hit his head, again and again until the iron rod collides with the concrete floor. Splatters of crimson cover the floor as a thick liquid oozes out of the cavity that has become his head. Not dropping the bar I fumble with his arms and grab a hold of the gun.

                “Oh my god oh my god oh my god Evelyn WHAT THE FUCK!” Maya is still screaming.  

        “Shut up” I look at her and her words dry up, “We need to get more supplies and get the fuck out of here, understand? Or we’re finished.”

         I run ahead and try to find something that can hold more supplies. The gun is a cold comforting pressure against my back. I see a few men in the distance and they have two trolleys piled high with food and all the essential items we were looking for. Maya catches up to me and I can see that she is beyond badly shaken. Her eyes look lost and they dart from one end of the warehouse to the other. The men aren’t moving and I’m guessing they have no way out of this place with those trolleys.

“I need one more thing from you Maya” she looks at me with a detached expression, “Are you listening to me? I need you to grab one of those trolleys and run for the service doors when I say so.” She nods slowly and I thank God or some higher power that she’s gone into numb shock instead of freaking out shock. I unsling my backpack and secure the iron rod through the front straps. I pull out the gun and look it over. It’s a revolver and it’s heavy. For a split second I wish we were living in America where the cops carried proper 9mm glocks and automatic weapons, but then I remember that every Tom Dick and Harry would be carrying. It’s better this way. I flip open the chamber and check that it’s loaded. It’s the only thing I know how to do, I’ve never fired a weapon in my life, but I know that in this situation it’s the fear of the weapon that will get the job done, not shooting skills.

The men turn towards me as I approach them. I cock the revolver at them and motion for them to step away from the trolleys. I faintly hear their protests and jeers, but the adrenaline is pumping in my ears like a tidal wave. One of the men steps forward and I fire. I almost expect to see him crumple, but I’ve missed. The sound of the bullet bounces off all the walls in the warehouse and is amplified ten-fold. The men relinquish the trolleys and make a run for the opening in the cafeteria. I stand there for a minute before the world comes back to me.

“Grab the trolley Maya” I say quietly as I slip the gun back into my waist band. I clutch the handle of the second trolley and we barrel our way down Costco, through the service doors and out into the open air. I half expect it to be night, but the sun is out and there’s not a cloud in the sky. The weather doesn’t correlate with my state of mind and I freeze. I see Maya streak ahead of me and I just can’t move. The meaning of the weight against my back hits home and the cop’s face floods my vision. I think it’s his face, although I hit him from behind. He never even saw me coming. I shake my head in confusion and push the trolley forward.

 By the time I’ve reached the front of our building Maya has already disappeared. The trolley stands abandoned before the boot of the Ford.

“Dammit” I curse. I can see people in the distance. Some of them are clutching clothes and electronics and I think to myself how those things will help them survive. I need Maya here to help me haul our loot up the three flights of stairs. Indecision grips me as I stand there clutching the handle of the trolley. If I go upstairs to find her I risk losing both trolleys. If I try and move the items one by one I risk losing whatever’s left behind. Having no other choice I begin trying to clear some of the rubble blocking the entrance to the foyer. There’s already a small gap between the doors and the side of the Ford. All I have to do is make it wide enough to push the trolleys through so that I can get them into the stairwell. It will be easy enough to unload some of the heavier stuff and blockade the door from the inside while I get the rest of the supplies up into the apartment. I just have to hope there’s no one left in the building to come and take it.

                By the time I’ve finished barricading the door the sun’s gone down. It must be around 8 o’clock, but I can’t be sure. I should really remember to wear a watch I think to myself as I begin to take up supplies. The apartment door is still locked and I remember that I’m the only one with the key. I look down the hall to Maya’s door and wonder if she’s hiding inside.

                It is midnight before I hear a knock on the door.

                “It’s me” she calls out. I push my trendy Ikea kitchen island aside just enough for her to squeeze through. Our conversation does not begin well. She is all angry whispers and accusatory looks. I stare blankly at her until she’s done.

                “This isn’t a place for sunshine and flowers” I say

                “Last time I checked the sun was still shining and there are probably flowers growing outside as we speak!”

                I think she’s lost her mind, unless she was always a complete moron. “It’s dark outside.”

                “YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!” she yells and I snap. I grab her by the throat and push her up against the wall.

                “Shut the fuck up” I say slowly, “You don’t seem to understand the dire situation that we find ourselves in. There is no more law and order. If there was then people would not be panicking like they are now. People would not be looting and robbing and hiding.” I spit out the last words and let her go. For a second I think she will hit me, but her eyes dart to the gun lying on top of the island bench.

                “I want my half of the supplies” she says. I can almost see it in the way her mouth is quivering. She’s scared and close to tears.

                “There all here. You’re welcome to use them. Here”

                “I want my half of the supplies” she repeats again. I turn away from her and grab the back pack that I’ve thrown on the floor. I stuff it with a few cans and three bottles of water.

                “That’s not half…” she begins to protest. I throw the bag at her so hard she reels back and almost falls.

                “As I see it it’s all you’ve fucking earned. Get out” I watch her as she struggles to push the bag through the gap between the wall and the door and I know she won’t last a week with those supplies. She’ll either come to her senses and apologise or get herself killed out there.