Afterwrath: Part One - Station Read online

fist on her well-toned hip. He exhaled. “Here it is: I don’t know how to act around women.”

  Lauren’s shoulder slumped; not all the way, mind you, but enough to give him hope. Her fist unclenched slightly. She opened her mouth to speak, but, at first, no words came out. Then she asked, “What do you mean?”

  Burk glanced around. Many pairs of eyes were still upon them. One especially curious older man, bald of head and covered in freckles, watched as if it were the most interesting soap he’d ever seen. As Burk’s World Turns. Burk gestured to the seats. “Can we please sit? This attention is making me more nervous.” Lauren glanced at the table. “Please? Just give me one more chance. If I say another awkward or uncomfortable thing, you can leave without another word.”

  Lauren inhaled through the nose, and eased back into her chair. Burk picked up his own, and reseated himself. The temperature must have gone up another ten degrees, because he felt a heat rash coming on. “I know this isn’t going according to plan. Truth be told, this has been awkward for me as well.”

  Lauren reset her napkin on her lap. “I didn’t realize that.” She stared at the napkin holder. “I guess I just figured this would be another setup for some jerk-wad looking for a quickie.”

  Burk put his hands up in a surrendered gesture. “I’m not like that. I promise.” He leaned back, putting his hands on the edge of the table. “Actually, I haven’t been on a date in five years.”

  Lauren’s head snapped up. “Really? That long?”

  He rubbed his chin with his fingertips. “Seriously. My last relationship didn’t last very long. We dated for months, but when I took up bounty hunting, she said didn’t approve of me doing it.”

  Lauren stared at him. He could feel the tension ease down another notch. “How so?”

  He glanced at the empty cup. Where in the Hell were their drinks? His throat felt like he’d swallowed a mouthful of sand. Later on in life he actually would. “She never really said. One day, I came home to find a note on my desk that said ‘It’s over. I can’t handle this.’ Never saw her again.”

  “That’s all it said?”

  “Yeah.” He relaxed a little. “Weird, huh?” He shifted in his blazer. It felt as if a box of starch had been dumped down his shirt; his skin itched and prickled.

  Lauren gave him a half smile. “You can take it off.”

  “Awesome.” He didn’t hesitate. He tore the blazer off like a super hero and tossed it over the back of his chair. Instantly he felt a million pounds lighter, and forty degrees cooler. “Thank you.” He decided against his better judgment and unbuttoned the top button after all.

  “Are you going to strip, now?” Lauren asked him with a raised brow. He went to put it back, and she said, “I’m just kidding.”

  He froze, unsure of what to do. He closed his eyes, expecting her to get up again and walk out. He deserved it.

  Instead, she laughed. He opened his eyes, and from that second on, he never forgot that instant: the first time she laughed at him – truly laughed – and it was the most amazing moment in his memory.

  That laugh; it was so warm, so intoxicating, so infectious, that he began to laugh with her. And soon they were laughing together about the whole thing. It started off as a chuckle, then grew into a full-fledged fit of hysteria; those ones where neither of you can stop laughing nor do you know why you’re still laughing. Burk would always cherish that moment for many reasons, but one above all else:

  That was when he knew he loved her.

  People stared once more at this laughing, maniacal, completely awkward couple, but this time, Burk didn’t care. He hadn’t felt so happy in practically forever.

  When the feeling subsided, the cheeks hurt, and the tears were wiped away, their eyes met once more. No longer was there a look of superficial politeness; this time it was a genuine search for truth. They stared for a few seconds before Burk shook his head and cleared his throat. “Can we start over?”

  Lauren sat upright, spine stiff as a light pole. “I’d like that.”

  Burk rolled up his sleeves, revealing his tanned forearms, and stuck out his hand. “Hi I’m Burk Wallace. And you are?”

  Lauren smiled. “My name is Lauren White.” She gave him a polite nod and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  He held her hand for a second, noticed her clean but not manicured nails, and nodded in return. He could get used to that touch. “Nice to meet you Lauren.” He sat back against the leather with a creak and folded his arms. “I hear you’re a vegetarian. What brings you to a place like this?”

  Lauren leaned in. “Let’s just say my date doesn’t know me very well.”

  “Sounds like an idiot.”

  Lauren considered it for a few long seconds that felt to Burk like all of eternity.

  Great, she really does think I’m an idiot.

  That makes two of us.

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Lauren replied. “Clueless, maybe. But not an idiot.” She leaned in a little more. “Besides, he’s kind of cute.”

  Burk had to clench his teeth to keep his jaw from dropping. “His date isn’t bad herself.”

  Lauren face went placid instantly. She crossed her arms. “Isn’t bad? That’s all I get?”

  “I…” Burk backpedaled. “Well, you’re hotter than that… I just wasn’t trying to make you think that was all I thought about.” Keep digging that grave.

  “Is this why you don’t date?” She squinted. “Talking doesn’t seem to be your strong point.”

  Before he could answer, Otto returned with their drinks. He set Lauren’s tea down gently, but practically smashed Burk’s beer on the table. “Food’ll be out shortly,” he said to Lauren. “They have to make the soup from scratch.” He didn’t even turn Burk’s direction before meandering away.

  Jerk.

  The orange drink had never looked so delicious. Burk crushed the orange wedge over it, the juices dripping into the brew, and then dropped it in with a small Plop. The taste was as cold and refreshing as winter in a glass. The bubbles danced on his tongue, and swam down his esophagus, relaxing him. Somehow this one tasted better than the one before it. He didn’t even notice that he downed half of the mug before stopping to take a breath.

  He also didn’t notice Lauren staring until then either.

  He set the mug down calmly and wiped his lips off with his napkin. “I’m sorry. You must think that I’m some kind of alcoholic or something.”

  “I didn’t say that.” That look in her eyes told a different story.

  He shook his head. “Between the sweltering heat in here, and my nerves, I panicked.”

  She gave him a quizzical look. “I don’t think it’s that hot. Warm, sure, but not sweltering. Here.” She slid the water back to him. “You’re probably dehydrated. Beer does that. Drink some water and you should be okay.”

  He looked at the cup. I hate water. That’s why I didn’t drink it in the first place. It such a bland, tasteless liquid. “That’s a good idea. I’ll do that.” He took the cup and forced himself to finish it off, filling his belly. “Feel better already.”

  “It’s what I do.”

  He pushed his beer aside, purposely avoiding it. “Alright. I asked the last question, and messed that up. So I think you should ask the next one.”

  “Good point.” Lauren sipped her tea. “Let’s try a simple one: Do you have any siblings?”

  Burk could feel the buzz coming on. The water sloshed against the beer in his gut and gave him a mild case of heartburn but he fought the urge to rush to the bathroom. Sweat dripped down the nape of his neck. He’d already made a fool of himself once. Done again, and she’d be gone for good. I just have to focus on her and it’ll pass. “Easy enough. I actually only have one brother. Younger.” His eyes drifted to the half-finished beer, but he quickly redirected them to Lauren.

  “Are you close?” Lauren asked, playing with her straw.

  “Used to be, when were younger.” So damn hard to concentrate while lighthe
aded. A waiter walked by, and he caught him by the arm. “Can I get some coffee? Black please.” The waiter nodded and walked off.

  “Coffee may not help. Most people don’t know this, but coffee actually dehydrates you faster than beer does. Water is your best bet if you’re feeling light headed.” Did she have advice about everything? Who was she, Oprah? “I know because most of my friends party, but I don’t. I’m normally the designated driver. Beer is nothing but empty carbs.”

  Of deliciousness, he almost added. “What about you,” he asked in an attempt to avert the attention.

  “I have two sisters actually.”

  “Let me guess,” Burk said, rubbing his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You’re the middle child.”

  Lauren’s mouth fell open. “Yeah. How did you know? Lucky guess, right? One in three chance?”

  Burk shrugged and smiled. “When you question as many people as I have, you begin to notice things. Their eyes, their mannerisms, the way they dress, talk, act. All of it indicates something.”

  Lauren crossed her arms. “What gave it away for me?”

  “Well, first off, you’re reserved. From what I’ve seen, middle children aren’t attention seekers, because they are often overshadowed by the oldest and youngest.

  “Also, you dress simply. On this date, you could have worn something elegant or gaudy, but you picked something more plain...” As soon as he said it, he knew that it might be offensive, and quickly added, “though I prefer that look.” She threw him a knowing ‘smooth move’ expression.

  “Lastly, you excel in what you do. You said you’re certified in three different areas. From what I’ve seen, middle children tend to achieve more than last or first children for two reasons: One, they are not so wrapped in drama as the others, and two, they are striving to be noticed.” He crossed his arms and leaned back. “How did I do?”

  She clapped lightly. “Spot on. My sisters and I were always so different. I love them both, but it couldn’t be helped. I’m truly impressed.”

  Burk shrugged. “Honestly, I do some of my best work after I’ve had a drink.”

  She gave him an unsure look. “Is that so?”

  He nodded, then realized that the comment made him sound even more of an alchie. “It helps me think,” he reasoned. “It allows me to focus one thing at a time as opposed to the millions of thoughts that get traffic jammed inside it.”

  She glanced at the mug. “You don’t have to waste it on my account. But I wouldn’t recommend drinking any more the rest of the night or you’ll probably puke.”

  He smiled at her. “I’ll take that advice.” He restrained himself from finishing the glass in one go, and as he put it away, Otto returned with a tray on his arm. The food will help, was the last thought he remembered thinking.

  Then the world melted into darkness.

  20

  Burk’s back hurt like a mother when he pushed himself off the ground. He put on his boots, and went outside.

  He’d woken up with the sun and stretched in the morning light, stretching out his arms, his legs, and his spine. He did his morning business, but didn’t bother with the outhouse. Instead, he did it behind the building, and when he came back around to the front, he noticed the coyote pup had disappeared. Thank God.

  Flies had laid eggs in Lenny’s body, and it gave off a terrible stench. Burk went back inside, his skin already itchy and dry.

  21

  He spent the first part of the day cleaning the revolver the best he could manage with a wadded shirt. He didn’t dare try and brave the elements while the sun was up again, not with shade so readily available. His first few days in the desert had almost killed him, and taught him a valuable lesson: The dark was his friend just as much his enemy. He was much more acclimated now to the temperature, but there was no water around, and he could feel that persistent migraine coming on again.

  “Should’ve saved the liquor, idiot.”

  “Shut up.” He shook the thought away and focused his attention on the task at hand.

  22

  After the gun had been cleaned, there wasn’t much else to do. He occupied his time by chewing a single meat strip and looking over what objects the brothers had amassed.

  He laid the bindle out on the floor and began rummaging through it.

  Among the contents, he found over twenty bottle caps, three belt buckles (one of them a giant ‘X’), a metal hanger, various cutlery, a flask, crushed cans, a can opener, eight screws of differing size, one brass bullet, a cog – for a bicycle? Who knew? –, a silver wedding ring, a broken chain and a lock with no key. Back in the day, most of it was junk fit for the scrap heap. Since the Wrath, metal of all kinds had gone up in value: bullets; locks and keys; shivs and daggers. Paper’s usefulness (including currency) had been reduced to bathroom purposes, and if he wanted something, he knew he’d have to deal for it in metal – one way or another.

  He inspected the ring, holding it up to the light. Quite obviously a woman’s ring; a medium sized diamond sat in the middle, and much smaller diamonds ran halfway around the band. Whether the diamonds were real or not, he couldn’t tell, but it didn’t matter either way. He pocketed the ring (one that Lola probably would have liked), and picked out the flask (empty of course, not that he expected otherwise). Everything else he bundled back up. He left the bindle behind the counter, out of sight as a precaution, and rested some more.

  His throat was hoarse, and breathing made it throb. Saliva with too much effort to bother. Breathing through his nose helped, but only a little. He glanced out the window. Had to be around noon, possibly one. He still couldn’t set out; too hot.

  Burk left the room, stepping over Kenny’s outstretched feet as he went around the counter. The man looked much older dead, staring forward with those vacuous, empty eyes. A couple of flies buzzed around his wound. One disappeared inside it. He hadn’t thought to check the man for supplies.

  Burk grimaced, but then bent down and checked Kenny’s pockets, turning him over on the hard floor. As he searched, the nagging feeling that Kenny would suddenly spring to life unnerved him. He found a utility knife in Kenny’s back pocket. He snatched the knife up and tossed the cadaver aside, wiping his hands on his pants.

  The knife was the kind that you would see on a home shopping network (it can do everything!) or given to a Cub Scout as a birthday gift. It came with a can opener, one serrated blade, one smooth one, a file, mini scissors and needle nose pliers in the middle.

  This alone is worth more than that whole pile of junk. “Thanks Kenny,” he said aloud, kicking Kenny once more in the chest for good measure. Kenny was a good sport about it and didn’t fight back.

  Burk lay back down, waiting for the temperature and the sun to drop, before setting out for the night. He hummed softly to himself, haunting images filling his vision as he drifted into darkness.

  23

  The pounding migraine woke him some time later. It was his only constant companion. He laid still for several minutes and could not fall back asleep. He sat up, and hugged his knees. He would have murdered someone for some pain killers.

  A magazine sprawled out on the floor caught his eye. Stiff all over, he reached over and picked it up. The cover said GLITZ N GLAM, one of those gossip and beauty magazines. The paper was brittle and stiff, and it was dated a month before the Wrath. He skimmed the magazine, glancing over the scantily clad women, exotic love stories and 37 “secret” weight loss tips; the ones that said stuff like ‘lose ten pounds in two weeks with this one super food.’

  The magazine made him feel alone and hollow, and he tossed it away. It crashed into a pile of debris. A plethora of trash scattered, including a pen that rolled to his foot.

  The sight of the pen made him realize that he hadn’t left a note since before Wolf Springs. He pushed himself to his feet, – knees stiff, back aching, head throbbing – found a relatively empty page of the magazine and tore it out. Burk tried the pen, but it did that annoying thing of only
carving the words as opposed to actually writing anything. He licked the ballpoint, then tried again. After several attempts, the pen spilled ink, and this is what he wrote:

  [Day 400, Afterwrath.

  To whoever reads this:

  My name is Burk Wallace. I am looking for the town of Nod. I am writing this as a reminder of who I am. For my own sanity.

  It’s also for anyone else that comes along to remind them that others have survived. To give you hope.]

  After the writing was done, he placed a large rock on it. It was late afternoon by then, and it felt as if a jackhammer were being run through his skull. He laid back down, and smashed his eyes shut, listening to the winds shifting around the building.

  24

  An orange-crimson filled his vision when he opened his eyes for the last time that day. A quick glance out the window revealed it was late evening.

  Time to go.

  Burk got up, stretched again, exchanged his older shotgun for the double barrel, hoisted the thirty pound bindle, gave his farewells to the brothers Kenny and Lenny, and set out along the highway once again.