In Civilization’s Wake

Pale knuckles gripped the steering wheel, laced with red and sparkling with slivers of windshield. Heat dried her tears before they could make their way down the flesh of her cheeks and rain pelted the wreckage, making a lazy attempt at soothing the flames.

She couldn’t feel it yet. A wall of isolation enveloped her, acting as a buffer for everything except the loss.

Arrie couldn’t make herself turn around to confirm that her brother was gone. The most she could do was peer into the rearview mirror, and whisper his name, “Savv?” She paused and tried again, “Savv…?”

Nothing in the back seat replied, or moaned, or stirred… or breathed. She forced herself to move.

She reached down to unbuckle her seat belt and then, gripping the sharp edges of the windshield, pulled herself through the hole and out into the stale air. Arrie jumped to the ground and ran.

With each step, the pain of what she had done began to build within her, coupled with fear of what she was now facing.

The Rovers would follow. They were scary… Nightmare scary. No one knew what they were or where they came from. Had they caused the blackouts, or were they just a small part of the fallout?

Their family had escaped the Rovers’ notice for nine months. Her parents had drilled into their brains the rules of survival: No fires, no noises, no laughter… and you speak only when necessary. They survived on canned food and bottled water from the doomsday shelter their parents had erected when the government had issued the first warnings to the public.

One day their parents hadn’t come home and, in spite of the precautions Savv and Arrie had continued to take, the Rovers had still shown up. They watched from a neighboring basement as the home they’d grown up in was ransacked and trashed.

As soon as the Rovers cleared out, Savv and Arrie made the hard decision to leave. They wrote a note in case their parents ever returned, then commandeered the bright red ‘67 Chevy that had belonged to their Grandpa, loading the trunk with their remaining gas cans, and setting out towards Denver in hopes of finding somewhere to call home. That was three days ago.

Arrie was slowing, bogged down by heightened emotion, pain and exhaustion. She veered off of the road that cut towards the city and peered into the barred window of a sturdy building she spotted a few blocks away.

Not seeing any signs of life, she picked the lock on a basement door around back and crawled under a molding pile of boxes in a corner to rest.

The silence is too loud.

Arrie began to sing quietly to drown it out, “Sugar, we’re going down swingin...” and she reached up to cover her ears. She stopped when she saw her blood encrusted hands, and for the first time noticed the glass shards protruding from her knuckles.

She climbed back out from beneath her cardboard hideout, and took a better look around the room she now occupied. She found two 5-gallon water jugs in a supply closet and cut the seal off of one. She tilted it onto its side, drank some and then held her stinging hands under the flow while she picked the slivers out.

After cleaning up her hands, she washed her face and wrapped strips of cloth from rags she’d found in the closet around her hands. Then she went back to her corner.

Arrie closed her eyes. Her mind immediately began to flash with the image of two spike-faced Rovers blocking a road, their tan wraps a stark contrast to the cherry red of the Chevy’s hood. She re-lived it all against her will: The car rushed backward as she slammed it into reverse for ten yards, it stopped suddenly while she popped the gear back into drive. Her head jerked back into the headrest as she sent the car speeding into the waiting predators. But it hadn’t stopped with the impact. The car jumped off of the overpass she had been navigating and hit empty air.

Arrie opened her eyes. She was sobbing uncontrollably, her body trembling violently with the heavy onset of grief.

She whispered his name over and over again, as she had in the front seat of that car, “Savv? Savv?”

She dropped into a blissfully numb sleep.

**********

Arrie’s breathing was erratic, and sweat dripped from her chin. She peered through the front window of the convenience store across from her base, watching the woman meander closer. First person she had laid eyes on in the two weeks since the crash. The woman wore a government issued jumpsuit identical to Arrie’s, but had added a leather hood and a gas mask to her ensemble.

I like her hood. I wonder if her name’s Robin. Arrie almost chuckled but caught herself. Cute, Arrie… You’re getting too used to being alone. Laughter is a hard no. Arrie didn’t wear a mask. Her parents had tested the air quality frequently and had always deemed it “breathable enough”.

The woman was getting too close. Arrie inched her way back, planning to sneak out and circle around to the base later. Her foot slipped and she froze, hoping the soft noise hadn’t reached Robin Hood’s ears.

The woman continued on without any hesitation. All Clear. She didn’t hear it.

Arrie decided to sit still and stay quiet rather than risk making more noise, but she continued to watch. The woman bent down and plucked something from the street. She opened the bag hanging at her side, and placed her new treasure within, some chunky tech on her arm reflecting the sun. Then she spun, an automatic rifle now braced against her shoulder.

Arrie dove to the ground, calling out, “I’m unarmed, don’t shoot,” as loudly as her rusty voice allowed.

The woman heard her over the spray of bullets, and stopped.

A moment later, Arrie saw a shadow lengthening along the ground near her head, so she chanced a look toward its source. The woman lowered her hood and removed her mask, tossing dark braids before glancing down. She still held the gun but was no longer pointing it at Arrie. “Name’s Olive,” she offered.

Arrie blinked up at her. “Well, that’s disappointing,” she said, “I thought your name was Robin.”

Olive threw her a blank look and shook her head, “You got a name? You alone? How long you been out here?”

It was Arrie’s turn to offer a blank stare. That was a lot of questions. She stood after a moment, wiping her palms on her jumpsuit before extending her right hand. “I’m Arrie. Two weeks-ish? And no, I’ve got a group. My base is close by.”

Olive raised her eyebrows and chuckled but shook Arrie’s hand, “Nah, that was a trick question… the Rovers cleared this area out months ago. You’re alone. Well, you were. C’mon.” With that she turned and sauntered off, returning the gun to whatever magical place from which it had been summoned and collecting her gear.

Olive tossed a mask at Arrie, who stood rooted in place still.

“Put it on. You’ll be grateful for it if we run into Rovers. They’re big fans of nerve gas.” She waited as Arrie tightened the straps, fitting it tightly around her face and opening the filters as much as they would allow. “No mask-shaped tan lines on your pretty face was a dead-giveaway that you’re new here, FYI.” Olive said as she began walking.

Arrie stopped her, “I have to grab my stuff, give me five minutes.”

She jogged across the street without waiting to see if Olive was okay with it, and was inside her base in a moment. For the last time? I might actually miss it.

Arrie had made the place homey, dragging in some furniture pilfered from a nearby GoodWill, a cot and a few odds and ends to honor Savv’s memory. She quickly dumped her meager cache of food, bottled water and art supplies into a backpack before her new pal Olive could see it and stared around her, committing the details of it all to memory. Nah, I won’t miss it.

Arrie turned to go back outside and realized Olive was standing in the doorway. She looked bothered, but didn’t say anything, and Arrie didn’t ask.

They walked in silence for over an hour, until Olive spoke, “Who’s Savv?”

Arrie stopped walking and turned to the other woman. “Excuse me?”

Olive repeated herself. “Who is Savv? I saw that shrine or whatever you had up in your base.”

“Oh,” Arrie replied. “No one. No one anymore, at least.” She resumed their previous pace, determined to continue faking happy. I don’t owe Olive an explanation. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“Here.” Olive said, stopping by what was once an automotive garage. She rapped on the large bay’s aluminum door, three quick taps, and a harder single knock after a pause.

The door soon lifted halfway, and two men slunk out, clutching more rifles and looking serious. The taller one said, “Jones isn’t going to be happy to see another floater so soon after the last.”

“Oh, piss off, Derek,” Olive said in a fake British accent, “and get out of my way. I’m hangry.” She pushed past him, ducking under the door, and pulling Arrie with her.

Arrie stood once she cleared the door, looking around in awe.

Savv, I made it. And I wish you could see it… it’s exactly how you thought it would be.

And it was. The mess hall sported rows of tables occupied by people chatting and laughing while they ate a hot meal. Clean, fresh bedding covered each of the bunks that lined the sleeping quarters. There were even lockers to store personal belongings.

A community. Full of people that actually lived instead of just survived in civilization's wake.

I’m home, Savv.

Arrie followed Olive around a corner, biting her lip and fiddling with the mask in her hands in an effort to keep the tears at bay. The relief was all-consuming. She hadn't realized just how long it had been since she had experienced anything other than paranoia or grief, but now the stress of the past year flooded in.

She dropped everything she was holding and put her back against a wall, slid to the floor and cradled her head in her hands, giving in to the rush of emotion. Someone knelt beside her and awkwardly patted her shoulder, offering comfort.

After a few minutes, the voice belonging to the hand spoke, “Hey, sis.”

Arrie jerked away, whipping her head up to stare into the face that said it. Savv.

She put a hand up to brush the dark bangs out of his eyes as she had been doing his entire life, and whispered, “How?”

Savv smiled and said, “When I saw you gunning for those Rovers, I rolled into the space in front of the seats. It was enough to keep me alive but I blacked out. Came to and you were gone. One of the members of this place found me that same day and brought me here.”

Arrie stood and pulled Savv up beside her, grabbing him in a hard embrace, saying, “I thought I’d killed you.”

He shook his head and pulled back, gripping her shoulders and shaking her slightly, “No. No, Arrie. You saved me. We sure as hell wouldn’t have survived whatever the Rovers had planned for us.”

Arrie noticed Olive in the background, beaming, and returned her grin. “Savv.” She said simply.

Her brother reached into a pocket, “And anyway, you forgot this.” When he held his hand out, she saw a small, gold, heart shaped locket resting in his palm.

“Mom’s locket.” Arrie smiled through more tears at him as she accepted the necklace.

He smiled back at her and replied, “You’re welcome.”