What We Leave Behind (Explicit Language and Graphic Imagery)

• Posted by Narok24 September 28, 2015 - 1,221 views

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       3:27 pm. Saturday. October 23rd. 2077. It's weird how much our minds like to play games with us. Wonder what it is. What part of our programming makes us try to find meaning in things? Anything. Everything. 3:27 pm. Woke up at 7:23 this morning. Waking up again at 3:27 the afternoon. Gotta mean something, right? Have some significance in the grand scheme of things. Or I could just call it what it actually is: nothing. It's all nothing. Nothing for miles around. Certainly not anymore Dazed . . . for all I know, half delirious. Or dead. Dead might be good. 

       Cause if this is living . . .

       Reduced to rubble. My dining room used to be here. Standing in a pile of debris now. Tables broken into pieces against the wall. What’s left of the wall. Blast came from the east. Nearest big city out that way is Kansas City. Probably hit a little closer to us, judging by the damage. Wonder what other cities were hit. New York, probably. Los Angeles. Washington for sure. Place must be a wasteland. Hell, this is a wasteland.

       Every house on the block looks like ours. Blown out. Blown apart. We weren't at the center of the blast, but it's sure done enough damage. Trees down. Fires in the city below. Nothing's ever going to be the same again.

       Walking down the street, nothing's looking any better. No movement really. It smells weird. Smells like . . . burnt eggs. Eggs . . .

       "Help! Help me! Is anybody there?!? Please . . ."

       Woman's voice. Screaming fades into hopeless sobbing. Coming from somewhere southeast. Start crawling through rubble, running in the front and out the back of one house, through the yard, onto the next street. Just the one voice. One voice alone in the nothing. All alone . . . almost prophetic, really. We're all alone in one way or another. Who said it? Some old philosopher. I think, therefore I am. But then some other guy one-ups him and say that the only thing each of us knows for sure is that “we are.” All we can really know is that we exist. Everything else might just be a part of our imagination or some shit. 

       Still could be dead. God I hope I'm dead.

       "Hello? HELLO?! Where are you?"

       The sobs turn to desperate cries once again, "I'm over here! Please help!"

       Working my way over to her. I can see some movement in a pile of rubble over in one of the houses. Part of the roof collapsed. Damn. She's pinned underneath. Better move fast. Here’s hoping for some EMT experience from a past life. Past life. Eight hours ago is now a “past life.” Everything’s gone. All of it. Home, work, fa—

       “AAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!!! MY LEG!!”

       Got the beam from the roof off of her leg. Shouldn’t have done that. The leg is mangled. Blood everywhere. Not sure how it happened. Not exactly prime time for curiosity though. Keep your mind straight. Focus. Leg’s torn to shreds. Flesh torn from bone, flesh torn from flesh. Bone’s broken too. Very broken. Need to do something about that. Usually don’t have much of a stomach for these things. Must be the shock. 

       Focus.  

       Gonna have to stop the bleeding. Need a tourniquet or something like that. 

       “God it hurts. IT HURTS!!”

       “I know, I know, I’m working on it. You just gonna hang in there with me, alright? Wh-what’s your name?” Gotta keep her talking. Can’t let her pass out on me.

       “M-M-Mary . . . my n-name’s . . .” She’s drifting. Gotta work fast and move her.

       “Mary? That’s a nice name. Family name?”

       She groans. Talking’s not doing any good. Work faster, dammit.

       Belt’s wrapped around the leg. Tight. Was almost afraid it was too tight. Obviously didn’t take a good look at the bleeding, tattered leg. The mind can be a funn—

       Focus. Focus on what’s here. What’s important. Leg. Fix the leg.

       “Mary, are you still with me?”

       She groans and rolls her head. Conscious. Barely. Gotta do this now.

       Make for the kitchen to find something to use. Most of the meat’ll be easy to get through. Bone’s gonna be a bitch. Drawers. Cabinets. Meat tenderizer on the counter. It’ll have to do. No time to screw around. Gotta do this now. 

       God I hope I’m dead.

       Cut through the meat just above the knee. Everything below that is ground beef. Never gonna have a burger again. Or tacos. Could find a ranch somewhere. Arm up. Settle down. Nice little retreat in the middle of the apocalypse . . . 

       Focus!

       Bone is next. I hit it. I hit it hard. Over and over with the meat tenderizer. Desensitized. Have to be. Can’t be here while I’m doing this. Gotta go somewhere else. Backyard, last year. Fourth of July. God bless America. Smell of the barbecue, laughter of the neighbors. Heh, Ron from down the street. Single guy. Little bigger than most. Guy had one hell of a mustache. 

       Had. Has. Had? 

       He was laughing at one of his dumb commie jokes again. So busy. So many friends. Kids . . . 

       Bone’s shattered. Leg’s as good as it’s gonna get. Tighten the belt. Hopefully it’s slowing the bleeding. Can’t tell. Gotta get her up and out of here.

       “Mary, can you hear me?”

       “Mm-mhmm.” Her eyes open.

       “Oh thank God. Ok, we’ve gotta get you up, ok? You ready? Three, two . . ,” 

       She’s lighter than I thought. Probably on account of the missing leg. Not sure how I’m gonna do this. Head towards town. There’ll be more people in town. Please let there be more people in town. First few blocks aren’t too bad. She’s in my arms. Conscious enough to wrap her arms around my neck and hold on at least a little. It still hurts. I can see it all over her face. But she’s hanging in there. She’s a trooper. Brave. And crazy lucky. If she had been standing a few inches farther forward, it wouldn’t have just been a leg mangled in all of that debris. Was she standing? What if she was sitting? What do you know?

       She’s getting heavy. Going to need to figure something else out. Set her down in the yard of a nearby house. Gotta find something to carry her or something. What time is it anyway? How long has it been since I woke up? Minutes? Hours? Is this how it’ll be in this new world? Should’ve put my watch on this morning. Not exactly dressed for the nuclear apocalypse, am I? Button down t-shirt, some khaki slacks, and dress shoes. At least I got dressed. Saturday morning, I’m sure some people barely had the chance to get out of the bathroom. That’d be a sight to see. Huh . . .

       What the hell, man? What’s wrong with you? Get it together already. This sure as hell is not a time for jokes. The damn world just ended, and you think it’s funny that somebody might’ve been caught with their pants down? 

        Get a grip. This world can’t change me this bad, not yet. I need to keep it together. Focus!

       Little red wagon. That’ll have to do. Kids toy. Have to make it work. Grab the wagon, carry it back to Mary. She’s still lying in the grass. She’s still awake. Wish I had something I could give her for the pain. Found a bottle of vodka on the ground in the kitchen when I found her. It’ll burn the hell out of her throat, but it might take the edge off. Gonna have to look for medical supplies in town. Already resulting to looting. This morning I wouldn’t have asked to borrow sugar from the guy across the street. Now I’m stealing children’s toys and vodka. 

       That’s what the new world’ll be, isn’t it? Sifting through the rubble to try to keep our heads above water. But, maybe it’s not that bad. Maybe people survived. Maybe it wasn’t a bomb. Maybe some factory blew up. Yeah. Maybe it’s not that bad. Maybe we’ll be ok.

       “Th-thank you.”

       She’s conscious enough to speak. And thank me.

       “Don’t worry about it. I just did what anybody would’ve done.” Smiling. Consciously smiling for the first time since this morning. I hope it’s at least reassuring for her. “Ok, lets get you out of here.”

       Load her into the wagon. Tight fit. Things weren’t made to work as stretchers. It’ll have to work for now. Start pulling her down into town. Hills are difficult. More trying to stop the wagon from barreling down the hill than pulling it along. Painstaking is a word that applies here. Finally pulling into town now though. What’s it been? Two hours? Three? 

       Never gonna be good at telling time.

       Gotta find a pharmacy or a hospital or something. Think there was something on the corner over there . . .

       “What the hell was that?!” Already getting jumpy. Crashing noise over to the left. Glass shattering. Looters? Already?

       Voices off in that direction, “Did you guys here something?”

       Shit. Being too loud. Gotta hide or something. Try to move me and the wagon around the side of a dumpster. Too much debris. Not moving fast enough.

       “Hey man, don’t run! Who are you? We’ve got food over here.”

       Food. I didn’t realize until now that I’m starving. Damn, that’s a big dude too. Might be good to stick around him if he’s friendly.

       “I—I need help. She’s hurt. Bad. Leg was pinned under her roof and shredded. I did my best to cut it off, but I . . .”

       “No worries man, I’m a doctor.”

       I don’t know if there is a God. If there is, I guess I should be pissed that he let it all go down like this. But damn me to hell if I’m not grateful to somebody or something for throwing a doctor our way.

  —————————————————————————————

       The doctor said he would find some medical supplies, and try to cauterize the leg with a laser. Good luck to him. Just hope Mary’ll be ok. Doc said his name is Richard Church. Out of Boston University. Moved out here in the middle of Kansas doing his residency. Guy must’ve drawn the short straw. They’ve got a little group of six that found each other after the blasts this morning. One guy said the news reported that New York and Pennsylvania got hit. That was all he saw before it hit us. How the hell are any of us even still alive after all this shit?

       They broke into a Super Duper Mart for the food. Good idea to hit it now. Who knows what kind of unruly types will be moving in.Gonna spit ball that it’s getting close to seven. Slowly but surely starting to get dark. Settling into the first night of the apocalypse. Heh, it’s almost funny. It’s peaceful. Quiet. Don’t know if I ever remember a night that was this peaceful. No cars. No hustle and bustle. Just quiet. Calm. Calm after the storm. Can’t imagine it’ll last long. Power struggles are gonna start as soon as everyone is back on their feet. Try to rebuild the government. Or pull them out of the holes they’re hiding in. They had to know. They must’ve known this was coming. And the bastards did nothing. God bless the frigging USA. Trigger happy sons-of-bitches probably fired the first shot. Set the whole thing off. Couldn’t they have warned us? Given us the chance to prepare? Prepare for what though? How do you prepare for something like this? Hellfire and brimstone come raining down from above. The hell are we supposed to do about it?

       Survive. That’s the only option we’ve got anymore. Gotta survive. Find a way. Any way. Do what we can. It’s nice to have found a few survivors. Nice to spend some time with other people. It’s gonna be bad. It’s gonna be damn near impossible. But we’ve gotta make it. Run. Hide. Survive.

       But is it even worth it? Do we even want to live in this world? It’s ruined. Scorched by atomic fire. Nuclear winter is in our direct future. Good luck getting through that. I hear that’s a bitch. Maybe we shouldn’t even bother. Just end it all. One of these guys is a cop. Bet we could find some guns. Take a round for each of us. Or just me. They can go on if they want to. I . . . I don’t want to. Not like this. Not witho—

       “Hey, man!”

       “Jesus Christ, Doc! You gotta warn a guy.” Damn near gave me a heart attack. That would be a poetic ending.

       “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you like that. Just wanted you to know that Mary is awake. She’s doped out of her mind, but she’s up. Me and one of the other fellas took care of the leg. Hell of a number you did on that thing.”

       “Yeah. Had a meat tenderizer and a kitchen knife. Probably shouldn’t have done anything . . .”

       “Like hell, man! Probably saved her life. You got medical training?”

       “Does the first aid merit badge count? Just lucky I’ve got steady hands I guess.”

       “Well, you saved her life. Don’t ever forget that man.”

       The doc walks off towards the group. Been sitting over here by the wall thinking. I remember going to my first high school dance. Did the same thing. Sat over by the wall and had a good think. Always been like that. Never much of one for people. I like cars. Cars don’t talk back. Cars don’t whine about their problems.

       Make my way over to the building they took Mary too. Got her laid out on a counter-top. Church must’ve been a field medic in Anchorage or something. Guy knows his stuff.

       “It’s—it’s you!” She looks more than a little excited to see me. Like a puppy. Probably the drugs.

       “Yeah, it’s little old me. How you doing?”

       “Well, I can’t feel anything below my thigh, but other than that I’m great.” She’s got jokes now, does she? Or does she really not know what happened. Her demeanor changes. Calm now. Peaceful. “You saved my life, and I don’t even know your name.”

       “Heh, didn’t think my name was too important given the circumstances. Michael. Michael McCaffrey.”

       “Thank you, Michael McCaffrey.”

       “It was my pleasure. I’ll let you rest.” She almost looks like she might pass out again. I start to walk out the door.

       “It wasn’t my house.” 

      “What?” I turn back to look at her. She’s looking at the ceiling, fighting back tears.

       “It wasn’t my house. His wife was away on business. We met at a bar last night. It—it wasn’t even my house.” She breaks down. Crying. “My last night in any normal world, and I spent it . . .” She’s hysterical. I don’t even know what to do. I walk back to her and grab her hand.

       “It’s ok, Mary. It’s over now. Just rest now.”

        “No, no you don’t understand! I spent my last night ruining a family!” She’s moving too much. Going wild.

       The the doc bursts in the door, “What the hell’s going on?”

       “She started talking about cheating with some guy last night and went hysterical.”

       “Shit! She’s gonna make the hemorrhaging worse! Help me hold her down!”

       “Hemorrhaging? I thought you said she was gonna be fine?!?”

       “Yeah, well I lied! Lord knows nobody needs another death on their minds . . . Did she say anything else?” She’s still hysterical. The doc has to call another guy in to hold her down.

       “No, that was it. Just that she spent her last night ruining a fam—“

       Family.

       For the second time today, time stands still. The doc. Mary. It all freezes. 

       I run.

       “Hey man, where you going?!?”

  —————————————————————————————

       Have you ever done anything, unknowingly, that caused somebody else a lot of pain? Have you ever felt that guilt? The guilt that Mary feels over the family she ruined. The guilt I feel over the family I left behind. 

       Amanda.

       Jill.

       They’re my whole world. They’re everything to me. And this is the first time since the blast that I’ve thought of them. I walked away from our house. I saved Mary. I left my family behind.

       Time stands still around me. It’s making it harder to move. Running through town. Up the hill. Time’s frozen. The air is frozen. I can’t breathe. I can’t feel. I can’t think. Just running. Blind to everything.

       I reach the house. Door is closed. Shut it behind me on the way out. Just like I would any other day. This time I kick it down.

       “AMANDA!!! JILL!!!”

       That same peace, that same quiet. It’s here too. But it’s not calming. It’s not welcome. It’s terrifying.

       “AMANDA!!!”

       I remember her face. I remember looking at her. Watching her while she played. She’s so little. So young. I remember the look on her face. Puzzled. Worried. Like she knew what was coming, but didn’t understand why. I look to where she had been sitting this morning. 

       My Amanda. 

       The wall came down in the blast. Didn’t even notice. Now it’s the only thing on my mind. Tearing at the rubble. Digging, digging. Have to find Amanda. She’s here. She’s alive. I know she is. I know she is.

       But I know she’s not.

       I see the bear first. Lying face up. Like it’s resting. Then I see the hand. A tiny little hand holding onto the bear’s. She should’ve had her daddy’s hand to hold. I’m numb. I can’t feel. I grab her, little hand. Cold. I clear away the rest of the wall from on top of her. She’s face down. I take her into my arms. I hold her. I don’t know for how long. Time doesn’t matter. Amanda matters. She’s cold. Getting stiff. She’s my angel. My little girl. My whole world. 

       Numb. Nothing. I lay her on the couch. Her blue face is oddly peaceful. But what if it hurt? What if she was there for hours? Screaming. Nobody to hear her.

       Numb.

       I go to find Jill. Moving slow. Like a zombie from one of those old horror flicks. Shuffling along. Not feeling anything. I know what I’m going to find. I look into the bedroom and see the tall wardrobe on the ground. She was laying out her clothes. I know where she is. I can’t look. If I don’t look, it’s not real. None of this is real.

       I’m dead. I did something wrong. I did something wrong and I’m in hell. That’s it. This is hell. I didn’t believe in God, so he sent me to hell. 

       That’s fair, I guess. I’d be upset too.

       Blankets. Amanda’s cold. I need blankets. I stumble to the hall closet. Numb. I grab some blankets. Shuffle into the living room. Numb. Amanda needs blankets.

       I cover her up. Put her teddy bear next to her. Peaceful. Quiet. Calm. Numb.

       It comes like a wave. This is real. Suddenly I know it. I feel it all at once. Amanda. Jill. Gone. Dead. Not alive. Grandma would say they’re no longer with us. She didn’t like dead. Implied an ending. She ended. Amanda. Jill. They ended. I’m shaking. I know this feeling. I’m about to lose it. Overloading. Like a damn robot. Not enough space to store it all. Too much data at once. Too much feeling. 

       I kiss Amanda on the forehead. One last time.

       I take the bear. I move into the kitchen. I find an empty space on the floor. I lay down. I hold the bear.

       And I die too.

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