May 20, 2019 - O2 Remaining: 141 Hours / 5.88 Days - 6:50 PM

Eury Morrissey

“What’re you doing?” Kelly asked me as he walked into the mostly dark garage.

I commandeered the workbench in the garage, and by the light through the open door, I worked on my weapon.

“Making a spear,” I said, without looking up. The kitchen knife I used was sharp but hard to whittle with. I had almost taken the point of the broom handle down too thin a few times before when I was careless. I didn’t want to risk looking away again, not when I was so close.

Still though, with the spear slowly shaping up, I couldn’t help but worry that it would break in a real fight, leaving me with just a stick and within arms reach of them.

“A spear?” He sounded surprised. I wouldn’t have thought I’d be making one either. “What? Wanted to get a theme going?” That stopped me mid whittle.

I put the knife down as I looked at him.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Okay, that was supposed to be a joke, but obviously you didn’t get it.” I waited for him to continue because I still didn’t. “I’ve got a sword, you’ve got a spear, now all we need is someone with a bow or something and we’ve got a D&D campaign!”

“Well, Legolas can have his bow I’d rather have this instead.” I picked up the handgun and showed him. I made sure to fully load it, along with the spare magazine that sat beside the bullets inside the safe.

Kelly stepped back. “Whoa! Where’d you get that thing from?”

“It’s Alaska’s.”

“Right, right, right. The model’s a deputy too. Of course.” He scratched his head. “If you’ve got that thing, why the spear?”

“Because guns are loud,” I couldn’t help but look at him like he was an idiot, “have you really never heard a gun before?”

Kelly thought about it for a second, his gaze somewhere up in a corner then shook his head. “In my defence, it’s not like they offered much skeet shooting at chalet au Sheridan.”

I rolled my eyes. “Har har. Well then if that’s the case, I guess I’ll hang onto it then.”

Not like you were ever going to let him touch it.

But it wasn’t like he needed to know that.

“Fair enough. Sheila’s all I need, anyways.” Kelly said with a straight face.

“Shelia? Please, tell me you didn’t name it that.”

“I’m kidding! Don’t worry.” Kelly looked back towards the living foyer, facing away from me, I couldn’t help but imagine the face he was making. Was he embarrassed because he had named it, or worried that I caught onto how weird he was? Too late, buddy. Too late. “So, is your broom-spear ready?”

“Close enough,” I said, grabbing the wooden spear from the workbench. I showed off the tapered tip.

“That’s pretty good actually! But don’t you think it’ll be a bit hard for you to use?”

“I’ll keep them away, and you finish them off. Sheila’s a lot more durable than anything I can make.”

“Then, worst-case scenario, you have the gun?”

“Exactly.”

Kelly took a second to contemplate.

“Okay, one more thing, what if grandma doesn’t have a wagon or anything? Like I know you’re not expecting her to literally have a radio flyer, but what makes you think she’ll have something like that?”

I shrugged. “I just know she’s not home and that makes her the first stop. If we don’t find something there, then we try the next house and the next house after that. We do it until I run out of LOX, then it’s not a problem anymore.” I tapped my foot on the concrete floor. “That being said, if it takes that long, I’m pretty much screwed regardless of whether or not we have the wagon.”

“Okay,” he said, taken aback, “well, we’ll see about that.” He seemed a little surprised by my candour, but I’ve already thought this through. Right now, the wagon would be our best option to get out of here. But if it takes us a couple of days, then we won’t have to worry about that tank and we can just leave. If it does come down to it though, I only have at most twenty-five hours on full tanks, and another twelve on the concentrator. Still a lot of time, but not nearly enough to get to dad and mom’s place.

Not when you’re alone, either.

Good thing I’m not then.

“Well then, we should get started as soon as possible, right?” He said, stepping towards the door.

“Right,” I said, following him out into the house.

May 20, 2019 - O2 Remaining: 139 Hours / 5.79 Days - 9:12 PM

I was never one for sneaking around. I never snuck out of the house as a kid—not that I had any friends to go see anyway—and I felt that lack of delinquent training as we crouched behind the partially opened fence gate. We decided to go out the back door, not because of anything, in particular, we were looking to avoid through the front, but because there was more between the street and the back door. Meaning, more time for us to run away if we needed to.

Kelly looked over at me from the other side of the gate. We were supposed to check down both sides of the street, but with the porch and half the house on my side, that wasn’t happening for me.

He nearly poked himself in his eyes, then pointed out at the street.

*See anything?*

I shook my head.

He gave a thumbs up.

*Ready?*

I nodded.

Seeing this, he closed his eyes for a second, breathed in, out, then quietly crept out onto the front lawn of Alaska’s house. I watched as he scanned the street from side to side before continuing. Seeing nothing on my side of the street, I kept my eyes on our target, the unpainted side gate of Curlers’ fence. It was more or less directly across from Alaska’s, making this easy enough, but I still couldn’t help but feel nervous.

My heart jumped. Kelly stopped at the end of the small hedge running between Alaska’s front lawn and her neighbour’s.

What did he see?

I tried to look over the hedge, but when I was crouched and well hidden, I couldn’t force myself to stand up and risk the chance of being seen. I just… I just needed to trust Kelly. As difficult as it was, I needed to.

Three seconds passed, and I heard nothing. Another five. Still nothing. My patience wore as thin as the smear of gum on the concrete at my feet. Although my conscious brain had gotten acclimated to the constant stream of adrenaline in my veins, it seemed like my subconscious, and my habits had not. After another five seconds, I tapped on Kelly’s shoulder.

He jumped at my touch, and slowly looked at me. I raised an eyebrow at him and held up a thumb.

Although he looked like he was about to jump out of his skin, he nodded, and with little hesitation, started across the street.

We stayed low as we crossed. I kept my gaze forward at the fence gate at Curler’s where it accessed the backyard. By the time we were halfway across the street, my heart already battered against my chest. My lungs burned since this was the first non-dream exercise I had in the last week. Or maybe it was because I was holding my breath without even realizing it.

As my shoes sank into the grass of Curlers’ front lawn, I accidentally took in a deep breath.

Kelly stopped and looked back at me, his face twisted with worry. He waited until my breathing became normal, though somewhat heavy, before he continued to the gate. Just as planned, the moment he reached it, I turned around and faced the street as a lookout. I could hear Kelly scrambling up the slick planks of the fence gate behind me while I did my best to calm down. Anything could be out in the street, now dark as pitch. I needed the quiet to hear. The gate clinked slightly against its hinges as Kelly clamoured over, then landed with a soft thud on the other side. Silence followed. I swept my gaze up and down the street.

A second later, the gate creaked open. Silhouetted by the moonlight, all I saw of Kelly was his gloved hand waving me over.

We repeated the process, checking then advancing when we got to the edge of the house. This time though, I was significantly less worried. The chances of something or someone, being back here were slim to none.

And yet…

And yet nothing. Jesus, fuck off.

We crossed the backyard to the small shed in the corner. I scanned the backyard again, Curlers’ house, then the neighbours. Searching for any movement, anything to indicate that we were being watched, or worse, stalked.

The shed doors were unlocked. After stepping inside, we closed them back behind us. After a second of fumbling, Kelly pulled out the flashlight and lit up the cramped interior.

I started to search the packed shed with Kelly but stopped fairly quick. It was obvious that at a glance, among all of the gardening tools in the shed, the wagon we’re looking for wasn't here. “Kelly,” I whispered.

He nearly jumped through the ceiling of the shed. “What? Are you okay?” He said in a rapid-fire whisper.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Oh.” He relaxed, dropping his shoulders. “What’s up?”

“I was just going to say that I don’t see it here. Want to try the garage?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, lets. How do we get in?”

“Front door’s probably locked. Maybe through that window?” I said referencing the broken front windows.

“D’you think you can get up there?” Kelly said with a whiff of condescension in his voice.

“It’s not like it’s on the 2nd story or anything,” I said, snapping at him.

“Sorry.” He gestured to the doors like an usher. “Ready?”

I nodded.

He nodded as well and clicked off the flashlight.

At the door, Kelly took a deep breath before slowly opening the doors. He peeked his head out, cautiously panned from left to right, then waved for me to follow. We crossed the yard, only stopping at the gate. After repeating our safety checks—peek, left right, then follow—we hugged the wall of the house until we were under the broken open window.

At that moment, I took a slightly closer look at our surroundings. Without the streetlights on, the street was only lit by the faint glow of the moon. While Kelly had shown up already dressed head to toe in black, I had to mix and match some of my clothes with Alaska’s to achieve the same effect. My hair and skin were already on the darker side so I didn’t need a balaclava like he did. And for the most part, it worked to our advantage to dress like bargain bin ninjas. Except now. Pressed up against the obnoxiously white walls of Curler’s house. The two of us couldn’t have looked more obvious if we painted bullseyes on our chest. Needless to say, my stress climbed up several levels. I tried to calm myself down as Kelly did cleared the glass shards left after the man attacked Curlers.

The wind picked up, and under the whistling wind, I swore I heard the sound of far off screams.

At least you think that you’ve imagined them.

“Okay, let us go.” I whispered to Kelly.

What I intended to do was lightly tap him on the back, to spur him to pick up the pace. Within an instant, though, any immediate danger I felt was taken over by total embarassment. What I ended up doing was slapping him right on the ass while he wiggled over the window frame. His legs kicked wildly as he fell and landed face first on the floor below.

“Oh gross.” He said, just a little too loudly.

Gross? Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my fucking god, he thinks that me touching him is gross! Holy fuck, I know that it’s a meme for young people to want to die, but please, somebody come over here right now and kill me.

Back in high school again, are we? What did you think his response was going to be? Did you really think he was interested in a disabled girl like you? Get real.

And with that thought, my embarrassment left me. I had only a deep, empty hole of regret.

“Eury?” Kelly’s whisper brought me back. He stood in the window frame wiping something slimy off of his shoulder.

Maybe… Maybe that was what he was talking about?

Doubt it.

Kelly peeled off his dirty glove, and stuffed it in his windbreaker’s pocket. Then, bracing one foot on the sill, he leaned down, offering a hand to me.

Pity, huh? Just like what you’re used to, eh?

I passed him my spear, then grabbed the window sill. With a jump, I was able to pull myself up and over, only running out of oxygen the moment the wooden sill was on my gut. Facing the ground, I saw what Kelly had been wiping off of himself. In the dark, it was hard to make it out with any sort of certainty, but it definitely looked like vomit.

Yep, smelt like vomit too after a few breaths of it.

As I struggled between pushing myself up into the house, and trying not to get covered in that crap, Kelly took charge and grabbed me by my bag’s straps. He couldn’t lift me up outright but he managed to take the pressure off my diaphragm, allowing me to get into a better position. After a few seconds of awkward flailing, I was standing in Curlers’ living room. A small square of couches and recliners separated the living room from the large dining room table behind. Beside the brick fireplace, there was a small hallway.

“You good?” Kelly asked, in a whisper.

“I’m fine.” I grabbed my spear from where he had left it on the ground, and walked towards the hallway I assumed led to the garage.

I couldn’t even bear to look at him as I walked past. It wasn’t often growing up in white as fuck, rural as hell Sheridan, that I was thankful for having dark skin. At least in the dark, he couldn’t see how red my cheeks were.

Like the rest of the house, the hallway was dark, but even then I could still see a trio of closed doors. One was obviously the garage door—the metal gave it away—while I’d guess the other two were probably a bathroom and a boot room, maybe a laundry? Anyways, not particularly useful for me right now. Confidently—but with my spear raised in front of me—I approached the garage door. I reached for the handle, but was stopped when Kelly laid a hand on my shoulder.

It was me who jumped this time.

He held up the flashlight, offering it to me.

“Hands are busy.” I whispered, holding up my spear.

“I got it then.” He responded. The tone of his voice was a bit curt.

Jesus, am I going to be stressing over everything the guy says now?

He clicked on the flashlight and taking that as my cue, I opened the door. It was a tense few seconds while I waited for Kelly to sweep the space with the light. I had began to regret being at the vanguard of our team. Luckily though, he found nothing. I breathed a sigh of relief.

There was a surprising amount of cardboard boxes and plastic totes that lined up and down the center of the space where a car would normally be.

Suddenly, the likelihood that we’d find a wagon or a shopping cart here just shot up exponentially. After the wider first pass, Kelly lightly tapped my shoulder. That was my second cue. With my guard still up, I descended the wooden steps into the garage. Kelly followed close behind, still scanning the garage.

“I don’t think anyone’s here.” I said to him, lowering my spear.

“Yeah, looks like it.” He turned around and closed the door lightly. The moment he did, and the light was as far away from me as possible, I felt my face contort into all of the emotions that I avoided showing to him.

Jesus, I felt like I was in highschool again.

Yeah, it is just like back then, you’re obsessed with someone who has zero interest.

At least my inner-bitch was the exact same as she was back then.

“Okay—holy shit it’s dark isn’t it—let’s start at the back and work towards the garage door.” His voice sounded more relaxed than it had before. It was reassuring yet disappointing at the same time.

“Sure. Sounds good.”

Was it so bad that I didn’t want to be the only one feeling weird about all this shit?

For the next twenty minutes, we sifted through Curlers’ garage. My guess about all the boxes was she planned on cleaning out her house. A lot of the totes were filled clothes and other disposable stuff while a few of them had pictures and other important memories for the old woman. I guess maybe they aren’t so important now.

Kelly stopped our third time around the garage, at the halfway point.

“Okay, I don’t think anything’s here.” He held the flashlight so the beam rested on my chest.

An accident, for sure.

Oh fuck o—

“Wait a sec.” Kelly said, cocking his head to the side. “No, shit! Is that…” He jogged towards the back wall with a gigantic pile of crap that had accumulated over what I assume has been decades of Curlers’ living here.

“What is it? Did you actually find a cart?” I asked in disbelief. I had given up on this house about ten minutes ago, but didn’t say anything because Kelly was still so focused.

“Okay. I saw this thing last time around, and didn’t pay much attention to it.” He said, pointing to a metal X buried near the bottom of the pile. “But I just saw this!” He pulled away a pair of boxes sitting in front of and under the X. “Look here,” He pointed at a thick black piece of plastic on the ground. Getting closer, I saw it was the wheel of a wagon.

“I can’t believe we actually found one!” I said, just a little too loudly. I covered my mouth after I spoke.

He let out a muted “whoop” before reaching down, moving the boxes out of the way. “Okay, let’s get this uncovered and get the hell out of here. We can celebrate later in your dad’s apocalypse bunker.”

For the first time since this all began, I finally felt hopeful. Maybe it wasn’t impossible. Maybe we could actually get out of here okay.

It took us another ten minutes to get the cart uncovered. The hardest part was getting it out without causing an avalanche of pots and pans. God only knows how loud that would’ve been. After a few test spins, we discovered the wagon rolled louder than a shotty shopping cart—for at least now—with the amount that it rattled. The rolling door wasn’t and option since it had no power—not to mention being too loud and obvious as well—so we carried the wagon out of the garage door.

Kelly led the way, walking backwards as he held up one end of the wagon. The wagon wasn’t very heavy, but every step left me more haggard than the last. I sucked it up though.

Even in the dark, I could tell that Kelly’s eyes were fixed on me intensely, watching me to make sure that I was okay.

He’s just waiting for the disabled girl to stop pulling her weight.

I consciously paced my breathing, even though my lungs began to burn. Still, I forced a veneer of normality like I wasn’t suffering. There was no difference between me and any other person on the street, well, maybe there’d still be a bit of a difference these da—

“What was that?” Kelly asked, stopping as we passed by the last door in the small hallway.

“What was what?” I held my breath, trying my best to hear over the hissing of my O2.

Kelly took another step and leaned back to see around the corner.

“I think that—” He began to speak, only to stop suddenly.

In a flash, he dropped the wagon hard onto the ground and had his sword out before I even fully understood what had happened.

May 20, 2019 - 10:39 PM