The Famished Trilogy (Novella): Bailing Out into the Dead Page 8

  “Just Rudy will be fine.”

  Mac grunted and took another drag from his cigarette. “Good idea.” He waved me in. “Don’t be a slob.” A finger pointed to a dark doorway. “Yours.” With that, he turned and stalked to another doorway, closing it behind him.

  The house was sparsely furnished and quaint. It seemed Mac did not care to have a bachelor pad and it was clean, which gave him a few points in my book. Going into the small room, guilt hounded me knowing the other houses held so many people and I had a room all to myself. Obviously, my roomie didn’t have the same qualms.

  The distinct squawk of a CB radio sounded through the house. Mac’s muffled voice soon followed. A few minutes later a bang came from my door. “Food can be found at the cafeteria in the common area. You know the big building with all the glass? I’m sure you know what a showerhead looks like, but since you look and smell like something fucking Jerry Garcia puked up, I suspect you might have forgotten. Bathroom is on the right. Get all that?”

  I blinked at the closed door, not knowing what to think about this guy. I knew I needed a shower, but my clothes were clean and I washed my face and arms earlier. “Got it.”

  A pause, but I knew he still stood out there. “Need anything else?” His tone suggested I better not.

  “Yeah, sleep.”

  “Fucking perfect,” he snapped and his bedroom door closed a second later. At least he didn’t start with the civilian crap I’d been hearing since I got here. That was something. I sighed and sat on the twin bed with fresh sheets and blankets folded on the end of it. I’d put those on later. Grabbing the pillow, I fell asleep on the mattress in no time.

  11

  Then

  When I woke, nighttime had fallen. I planned to take a shower, eat until I fell into a food coma and then sleep some more. I knew I’d be assigned to a work detail tomorrow, so I wanted to make the most of my free hours.

  I scratched the beard covering my face with my fingertips, hating it when it got itchy. Time to let it go. When I opened my door, Mac had his open, fooling around with a bag and never looking up. Watching him for a second, I thought maybe he was putting on an affectation, but then again there was a reason he was living alone. He seemed to be in a hurry. Giving him the same attitude, I ignored him and went into the bathroom with my toiletries.

  The shower made me feel a hundred times better. My face felt different as it did when shaving after a long time of not. I unpacked my things and put them in appropriate locations.

  After I made the bed, I left the house in a manic search for food.

  Finding the common area had been easy enough. It being late, I guess people were turning in for the night. The few people roaming around, eating a late dinner or cleaning the cafeteria, gave me more than enough curious looks, but I went about my business without acknowledging it.

  I wanted something nutritious and fresh but was disappointed at finding the food mediocre and canned at best. The meat looked like pork chops, but I couldn’t be sure. I’d almost rather have the bologna sandwiches I had eaten in the quarantine cage. Almost. Nonperishable food was something everyone would have to get used to until they had the means to do something better.

  I didn’t see Julie, Taylor, Marie or Michelle and wondered how they were faring in this extreme change. By the time I finished, I was more satisfied than I’ve been in a week.

  Trudging back to the house, Mac was on his way out in casual Army clothing with a bag slung over his shoulder. He nodded at me before leaving and closing the front door behind him. Making my way into the kitchen, the counters were bare. Except for the small table and chairs, there was no other sign this house was inhabited. The refrigerator was empty besides a plentiful variety of beer. My lips pulled into a grin. This had to be the best thing to happen to me all day.

  Just the crisp split of opening one was refreshing. After chugging two of some hoppy Tennessee brew I’d never heard of, I realized there wasn’t much to do and might be happy to get a job assignment. I’d do anything to keep the horrors of the past week away. I fisted two more beers and made my way into the back bedroom.

  I grabbed my guitar and dropped on the bed to lean against the wall. Turning the keys a bit, I started plucking out a couple of riffs from my favorite songs. My body started to relax and my mind skipped any unpleasant thoughts it usually traveled to when I was bored. Two beers and several songs later, I passed out on the pillow.

  Then

  Knocking on the door startled me awake the next morning. I sat straight up and jumped when coming face to face with Julie. She smiled from her perch on the side of my bed.

  “Shit, Jules. What are you doing?”

  Before she could answer me, the knocking continued. Rubbing sleep from my eyes and blinking through the bright sun, I stumbled out of bed with a groan, my body being stiff. I threw my jeans back on from kicking them off in the middle of the night.

  When I opened the front door, an attractive redhead stood on the doorstep. Dressed in army pants and combat boots, she blinked her eyes for a minute and glanced down at her electronic notepad. Since her short hair was in a small ponytail, the hair she tucked behind her ear was imaginary. Her eyebrows were dark, causing me to wonder if the carpet matched the drapes. “Rudolph Hawthorne?”

  “That’s me.”

  Her hand stuck out and she looked me in the eye. “I’m Carrie Morgan, here to assign your work duty.”

  Shaking her hand, I said, “Come in. I just need a second if you don’t mind.” Stepping aside, she strode in and I followed. She nodded at me as her body turned toward the kitchen and her eyes zeroed in on my beer cans from last night.

  She scrunched her nose. “Is he still smoking in here?”

  “Yes,” I told her and left it at that. If he wanted to smoke, I didn’t care.

  The notepad dangled at her side. “He’ll stop eventually. Not to make excuses for him, but he’s been through a lot. I hope he hasn’t been much of a problem?”

  I peered at Mac’s door, but it was open and dark. He hadn’t come back yet. “No. Not really, and his smoking doesn’t bother me.”

  I tossed the beer cans in the trash and Julie appeared in the kitchen doorway. Julie watched Carrie but handed me a T-shirt. I hadn’t even had time to stretch. There was way too much shit happening already. I tugged the T-shirt on and sat with Carrie on the couch in the living room.

  “Oh Julie, hi,” Carrie said. That earned her a small wave from Julie as she sat in a chair across the coffee table.

  She still didn’t say anything, just gazed between Carrie and me.

  “Okay, Mr. Hawthorne—” Carrie started, getting to business. She obviously felt some tension in the room.

  “Rudy,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t call me Mr. anything.

  “Rudy. I understand you were working construction and attending school?” I nodded my agreement, but she shot me a dry look. “Can you elaborate? This will help me place you. What did you do while you were constructing? What did you study?”

  “Residential Development and I have at least a little experience in everything that has to do with that. I’m in my graduate—” I bit my lip in grief over the loss of all my hard work. “I mean, I was in my graduate studies for Business Management.”

  She smiled wide. “Perfect.” Her hand went to my arm. “How would you like to help with the planning and construction of a greenhouse and an area for livestock?”

  Although I had been thinking along these lines last night, I didn’t like how permanent it sounded. Like no one knows how long we’ll be here, only that it will be a long time.

  Carrie frowned at my unenthusiastic demeanor. I knew exactly what she’d say, but I asked anyway. “How long do you think we’ll be stuck here? Your opinion, of course.”

  A tight smile crossed her lips. “Right now, everyone is just trying to regain some order. Until that happens, I can’t give you a solid answer. I’m sorry for that. I’ve been told you were pretty angry when you got here.”
>
  The answer surprised me, not the angry part. She was the only one admitting no one had a fucking clue what was going on or what would happen. “Thanks, I guess.”

  “For now, however, we can gain some semblance of life. It’s in no way a replacement, but it’s a start.”

  “She’s right, Rudy. We can.” Julie spoke, but her voice was small. Uneasiness shot up my spine as I stared at her. Her lips curled into a small smile and she shrugged.

  I rubbed my hair and turned back to Carrie. “Sure, I can help with that. No problem.”

  “Oh, good!” Her fingers tapped in a rapid motion on her notepad. “The men I have on that detail are meeting later this afternoon. I have more jobs to assign this morning. After or in between building construction, would you mind handling some general maintenance?” She glanced at me.

  Shifting to lean back against the couch, I felt uncomfortable with this idea. “Would I be going into private housing?”

  She nodded. “Some.”

  I stared at the floor. I never liked doing that sort of thing, but if they need help, they need help. “Okay.”

  Tucking another invisible hair behind her ear, she studied me for a moment. “About the construction, I need to warn you most of these men don’t have your experience, so you’ll be guiding them.” At least she appeared apologetic as she tapped on the notepad some more.

  After she finished, she stood and told me what time to meet her again in the afternoon. “And for the record, you don’t seem angry to me.”

  I followed her to the door. “What is Julie assigned to?” Glancing at Julie, her face turned an unpleasant shade of red.

  Carrie waited for Julie to tell me. “With my lack of skill set, I’m stuck in the kitchen.”

  I couldn’t help it, I chuckled, and by the look on Carrie’s face, she thought I would object to Julie’s arrangement. “Good luck with that,” I told Julie through a grin.

  “What’s wrong with my cooking?”

  “Nothing, if you like burnt water.” I joked, but it was true. Julie had ruined a few pots by letting water evaporate while trying to boil noodles or rice.

  Carrie’s wry smile wasn’t lost on me. “Thanks for the warning,” she said with a peek in Julie’s direction.

  Opening the door for her, I said, “No, thank you.”

  “For what?” Carrie asked and stuck her hand on her hip, genuinely confused.

  “For the refreshing optimism.”

  A light came into her eyes. “Anytime, Rudy.” I watched her sashay off the porch.

  Julie scoffed, catching me in my blatant appreciation. “You don’t have to be so obvious, you know?”

  I shrugged and sat back on the couch, not letting her make me feel guilty. She studied me and opened her mouth. “You look better. I-I’m glad you made it through. I was told what you’d have to endure and-” She stopped, but I could tell she wanted to say more. “Was it as bad as they said?”

  I wanted to tell her the truth, but I didn’t want to hash it all out again. It was hard enough not to dwell on it. Talking about it would be a different story. “I don’t remember much. They keep everyone drugged.”

  The relief on her face was profound. She stood and rushed around the coffee table. Bending down, she wrapped her arms around my neck. Familiarity consumed my senses. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered against my neck. “For everything.”

  I eyed her warily. What exactly was she apologizing for? “Look, Jules, we were both under stress and we’re both alive, so it’s all water under the bridge.”

  She leaned back and sat beside me. “No, I mean from before. Things haven’t been right since dad died. We both took it differently and I feel like it drove a wedge between us. We needed each other. Still do.”

  It had been so long since she was sincere about something, I didn’t know if she was trying to manipulate me. That should tell me something, but I couldn’t help but feel reassured I still had someone who cared whether I lived or died. Keeping my guard up seemed like the best way to tread. Only time will tell. “We do,” I finally agreed.

  A smile broke out across her face, brightening her eyes. “You forgive me?” There was so much hope in those three little words. There were things happening that made our personal problems seem so insignificant, but wasn’t it always the small things that counted? Especially at a time like this?

  “As long as you forgive me.” I sighed. “We can’t get too comfortable here, Jules. Remember what’s out there. I need you to be prepared to bail at the drop of a hat. Okay?” The sun streamed in from the kitchen, causing her platinum hair to gleam. The curls framed her face, and I tucked one behind her ear. Shock crossed her features, matching exactly how I felt. I dropped my hand. It had been a long time since I’d done that.

  She nodded. “Yes.” I didn’t realize how much I counted on her agreement.

  I talked to Julie for most of the morning. She let me know about the girls she was bunking with, so I could find her if needed.

  I attended the meeting, and Carrie didn’t lie when she said I’d have to guide the guys I’d be working beside. We passed the time drawing some plans for the greenhouse. I also created a list of all supplies we’d need for the project. It felt nice to do something semi-normal, even though what was happening on the other side of that fence had to be in the back of everyone’s mind.

  Needless to say, I was dead tired by the time I got back to the house later that evening. The unmistakable sound of two people having a knockdown, drag-out fuck in Mac’s bedroom interrupted my thoughts of geometric numbers and power tools. I guessed he was back. When hearing words like pussy eating bastard and dirty fucking whore, I took a detour to the kitchen and grabbed a beer. It sounded entertaining. Not a minute too soon, the woman admitted out loud she was, in fact, a dirty fucking whore.

  I held back a laugh when his door opened a little later, by sipping my beer. Mac sauntered out and when he caught sight of me, a smirk rose on his lips as if he knew something I didn’t. Discomfort settled in my body, but it probably had something to do with him flopping around.

  He lit a cigarette in a quick huff of smoke and opened the fridge. Exhaustion marred his face, and I didn’t think it was his extracurricular activities. “You know how many of these are left?” he asked, lightly waving a can of beer for emphasis. I answered by swigging the current can I held. Condensation dripped down over the edge of the can and trailed across my lip.

  “I suppose you can steal my beer. After all, I did steal your piece of welcome-wagon ass.”

  I choked and beer went into my nostrils, bringing tears to my eyes. “What?” My voice sounded strained, so I cleared it. From the sound of the woman’s voice, I doubt it. If Julie decided to go back on her speech, he was sadly mistaken.

  He shrugged. “She came by to see you.”

  “Oh my god!” The girl said from his room before she stalked out. Carrie stood there with freshly fucked hair. Even though I wouldn’t mind waking to something like that, I blew out a breath, surprised at my relief that Julie wasn’t the one standing there. And the fact that I thought it could be wasn’t lost on me.

  My eyebrows rose at the new development before me. At least Carrie had put her clothes on, unlike Mac. She glared at him. “You asshole. I came by here to talk about his work assignment.”

  Mac looked to me as if she had just offended him, but I knew she hadn’t. “Can you believe this shit, Rudy? She called me an asshole. That’s not what she said five minutes ago.” No, she called him a pussy-eating bastard then. He shook his head. “ ‘I came by here to talk about his work assignment,’ ” he mocked her. “Tell me, Rudy, was she wearing that at your meeting today?” He pointed the cigarette at her. The smoke curled around his fingers.

  Before I could wonder how he knew what I’d been doing, I glanced at her. No, I didn’t have the pleasure of seeing the cut-off mini skirt or low-cut shirt earlier today. A red color tinged her already pink cheeks and she glanced away for a second before glaring at Mac. H
e didn’t care.

  I signaled my hands in a not my business gesture. “Alright, I’m going to go to my room.” I grabbed the beer I had inadvertently earned. “Oh and Mac? It’s good to know I’m sharing this house with someone as fucked up as me.”

  His mouth dropped from me catching him off guard, but he grinned. “Touché,” he said, making me wonder what he knew about me. The front door slammed closed as Carrie left. I had a feeling that living here with Mac would continue to be an interesting experience.

  12

  Then

  The next morning was interesting, to say the least. “She’ll be back,” he grunted, doing push-ups on the kitchen floor.

  “I doubt it. People don’t like being humiliated and shamed, Mac. Especially women.” How Carrie glared at him last night reminds me of the old Dusty Springfield song, You Don’t Own Me. One I played on my guitar often enough. Even though it’s an angry woman song, I related to it for sure. Carrie had every right to be mad at Mac. What he did was an asshole thing to do.

  Snorting at my comment, he stood. “She deserved it, but what you most likely don’t know is we were screwing before either of us laid eyes on you. She also thought I’d be gone another night.” He peered at me and with the sun streaming into the kitchen, his eyes glinted a unique blue color. I guessed women would find him attractive, that was, until he opened his mouth. The look on his face dared me to figure another conclusion.

  So if I said something in her defense about me flirting with her first, it wouldn’t do any good. She’d already had some kind of relationship with him. Maybe she did deserve his wrath, but it wasn’t my business. I kept my mouth shut and resolved not to give her subtle flirtations anymore.

  After that conversation, Mac ignored me again. I still drank his beer, but he just brought in more and never said anything about it. He spoke the truth about Carrie. She visited as often as he was here, and if they were in the bedroom, I’d hightail it back to mine. Even though the names they called each other were highly amusing, getting caught in another fucked-up mind game was the last thing I wanted to happen.