Sector 9-11

The computer buzzes with another call. I stare blankly as it chimes, but can’t do anything to move my stiff limbs. I shake my head once, then twice, to rid myself of the shock. He'll see me soon? It was ridiculous to even think. I blinked once, twice, before the cloud of confusion lifts long enough from my head to hit the answer button on the screen in front of me. I stare blankly into the buffering screen.

“Wow, look at you. My girl. ” Jack sits across from me on the screen. So close, yet so far as miles and miles of death, dying, and destruction lay between us two. The screen makes me feel just a bit closer, but it’s never enough. I reach out to touch his face in front of me. I stroke at the screen imagining his cheek, his brow under my fingertips. I try to recall the feel of him on my skin. I pause as I creep to the edge with my thumb where his ear would surely be before smiling a soft, brittle smile at him.

“Greetings.”

“How are you? How you feeling? You didn’t answer me this morning I was worried.” He mutters quickly. I can feel, more than see, his eyes probing me in question. He checks me for any signs of illness, deterioration of condition, or hints of mania. I sigh.

“I’m okay. I swear. I’ve just had a weird morning is all,” I scratch at my head. I pull away to stop, but the spot burns for more attention. I attempt to resist and fail. I scratch harder. Jack remains quiet until I finish, waiting for the compulsion to fade before continuing his questioning. I scratch for a beat longer before making a resigned huff.

“A weird morning? What do you mean?”

“Why haven’t you come to get me, Jack?” I ask frankly. I feel my mouth twitch upwards on one side from the uncomfortable frown strewn across my face. My breath shudders in my chest, and I can’t help but stare holes into where I imagine his eyes would be on the screen. Jack is silent on the other end. If not for the glowing window of his call I would almost believe that we had lost connection. “Jack?” I probe further.

“It’s not safe, baby. I think you would agree.”

Before Guy’s call earlier this morning I would have agreed with him. I would have taken his word to be true, and used it as the fact of the matter for my reality, too. Yes, I heard the chaos on the streets below me. I heard the fires. I heard the screams, but even without all of that… Before Guy contacted me this morning? I would have believed that the world is cured, that those rich scientists out there somehow found a way to revive my mother from her grave, and that Jack was doing everything he could to make it back to me. I’d have agreed to it all just because that is what Jack has always told me. Before Guy, I would’ve believed anything.

“Why is a man coming to get me, then?” I spit out shortly. I didn't mean to be petty, but I made sure that he knew it was a man. Not because of Guy, but because of Jack. He needs to know that if I’m gone and he can’t reach me here anymore, then it’s because of him. He needs to know that I waited as long as I could for him, six hundred and fifty four days to be exact, and he never was able to show up for me. He needs to know that I waited.

“A guy? What are you talking about? Baby…”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me right now, Jack. I honestly can’t take it.” My foot starts to shake beneath the table.

“Seriously, Clem. I don’t know what you mean. A guy? You told someone, a stranger, where to find you? Do you understand how much you’re compromising yourself? Your position? How am I supposed to come get you if someone comes and kills you first?”

“Oh, so now you are coming to get me?” I choke out a laugh.

“I’ve always been coming to get you. Clem. I am going to get you.” His voice gets soft at the end. I always melt, at least a little, when it gets like that. I bite at the aglet on my sweatshirt before continuing.

“Someone’s coming to get me… soon, Jack.”

“Clem, again, how am I supposed to find you if you leave? How do you think you’re going to survive out there? You can’t see, Clem. You can’t see!” He never raises his voice at me. He didn't when I told him I got way too drunk and kissed someone at a party, or when I broke up with him and ignored his calls for weeks after mom died, or even when I called him hysterically crying that my vision was failing.

“I’ll call you. I’ll find you. I just need to go. You don’t understand how bad it is here. You don’t get it.” I almost sob the last few words out as the few tears that began to well in my eyes threaten to burn tracks down my cheeks. “If this is how I get out. I have to go.”

Jack fell silent on the other end of the screen. The window shakes lightly from his side surely do to his aggressive tapping on the table. He does this every time we argue. He waits for me to succumb to his will. He waits for me to finally see, truly understand, from his point of view that his option is the best option, more so, the only option. I’m almost positive his eyes have turned into a cold, icy tundra. They tend to take on an impenetrable look when he’s thinking—shielding his thoughts from me. I'm glad for once that I can’t see them. The shame from his upset fails to overcome me this time. I need this. I need help. He can’t, or is somehow unwilling, to come get me himself. I may very well die waiting for him to be ready. I think about how I even wait now for him to speak.

“Babe, you…” He trails off a bit as his voice shakes.

When he doesn't continue I ask, “What?”

“Do you remember the barn?” He asks quietly.

I did remember.

He's referencing the barn up in the mountains. It's a short hike away from his parents home that he brought me to the first time I went to see him. Hidden in a sea of redwoods it almost spontaneously appears on the path up the mountain. In its quiet nook within the trees it's invisible to any passing planes overhead. On our first few steps up to its large, creaking doors I remember I was so doubtful of its magic. Rotting, almost in shambles, it appeared to be more of a crumbling eye sore than anything close to an oasis. Yet, once we stepped within it suddenly transformed into safety, a home for just me and him. Jack had done some work on it over the years clearing out the hay, the muck, left behind by some long gone farm life. There were some chairs to sit in as well huddled in a circle, but we walked straight past them to the staircase on the far wall.

He took my hand as we climbed up its decayed steps. He held it so tight, and watched my every step carefully. The rings on my fingers started to dig into my skin from his grip, but I don’t think I complained even once about it. I was with him, close to him, and nothing else mattered. The stairs led to a loft. The slanted roof forced us to duck as we walked through, but once we turned around we had view of the entire barn, and through its big window above the door endless, endless trees. It looked prettier from up there, like all the dirt and grime disappeared from our uplifted distance. A single skylight let in the soft sunshine of the early evening. It warmed the small space forcing slickness between our interlocked fingers. He still never let go of my hand.

Below the skylight, a full-sized dingy, dirty mattress rested. Jack laid the blanket he had stuffed in his pack before we left onto its surface before sitting. He pulled me gently to his lap where I immediately nuzzled my face into his neck.

“I love you so, so much. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“I love you, Clem.” He said softly. He cupped my chin in his palm pulling my face up to his. Our lips met lightly erupting a bloom of hunger for him through my entire body all the way down to my toes. We stayed like that for a little while indulging in the feel and scent of each other. He always smelled clean, but this time his fresh scent of soap was accompanied with the subtle bite of sweat. It didn’t gross me out one bit. We lay back on the blanket as his fingers burned a trail all the way down my cheek to my waist. His fingers hovered lightly at the waistband of my jeans in silent question. I nodded my head in permission.

“Closer. I want to be closer to you.” I breathed into his mouth. Those crystal eyes of his locked with mine. He paused to stare into me. Only a sigh hovered between the meetings of our lips. The tip of his nose circled against mine twisting the air between us. My own breath shuddered in anticipation as his hands started to pull at the confines of my clothing. I couldn’t stop myself from quickening his movements until I lay completely nude below him on the mattress. He pulled away in a gasp. I almost covered my nakedness with my hands in embarrassment before he reached to pull them away.

“Clementine, you’re so beautiful. My girl…” He said breathily. He reached to take his shirt off before lowering himself gently down on top of me. “You okay?” He asked me quietly one last time.

I couldn’t find any words, so a small nod of my head sufficed enough for him to continue. He kissed me deeply as we made love for the first time.

"What about the barn, babe?" I ask softer than anything I've said to him in the entirety of this call.

“Nothing, nothing at all. I love you. You know that, right? I know you know that I love you.”

“I do know. I love you, too.” My voice cracks at the end. I clear my throat to save myself from breaking down into tears further. “I gotta go, okay?”

“How am I going to find you, Clem? I need to be able to find you.” He blurts out almost desperately.

“Don’t you worry, baby. I’ll always find you.” I smile this time. “It's not goodbye, Jack. I will see you later,” I flinch lightly as he blows a hard breath of air through his lips.

"Goodbye, Clem." He sits silently, surely staring deeply into me, before the screen goes black.

I try not to think too deeply on his farewell as I stare through the blank screen. It feels so concrete to say goodbye like maybe we really won't ever see each other again. A small part of me knew he didn’t believe I was going to survive stepping outside of my bolted doors. Most of me was angry with him for it, while the rest is overflowing with the determination to make it out.

I will make it to him.

“Goodbye Jack,” I whispered to the empty screen. I close the laptop gently.