Clio and Cy: The Apocalypse (18 page)

“Okay, this is the wisdom. First, time spent on
reconnaissance is never wasted. Second, almost anything can be improved with the
addition of bacon. And finally, there is no problem on Earth that can't be
ameliorated by a hot bath and a cup of tea.”

― Jasper Fforde

Clio walked over toward Russ. On his hands and knees, he
stayed next to the coffee table. Before he had the chance to get back up, she
bent down to hug him. The old man was caught off guard by the girl’s gesture.
He tried to hold it together as she whispered in his ear. “They’re in a better
place now… I just know they are.”

Russ felt the tears welling up in his eyes and stood up,
pulling Clio’s weight with him. “Yeah,” he answered wondering if his voice
sounded as shaky as he thought it did.

“They’re having a better time than we are,” Clio announced
with a smile. “I bet they’re looking down and missing us too… right now,” she
said, which made her wonder if her mother was doing the same.

After Clio relinquished her hug, Russ turned away from the
girl and headed down the hall for his bathroom. Clio was left standing there to
wonder as she watched him disappear inside his room, hearing his footsteps
slowly pressing against the floor.

Clio heard the sink running from inside the master bathroom.

 
Jesus, get a grip
, he thought. Russ washed his face and then looked
into the mirror,
silly
,
worrying about crying in front of a twelve-year-old
girl.
You need to stay strong for
her, that’s not silly
, he thought, gaining back some of his deflated
masculinity after assigning a valid direction in where he should channel his
emotions from now on.
Hide that garbage
,
he thought.
Stay strong for her…

“Got something special for dinner tonight,” Russ said, still
invisible inside his room. Clio waited for him to come back down the hall.

“What?” Clio asked as his shadow morphed into the shape of
the old man she’d come to love. Composed, he walked closer to her down the
hall. Whether facilitated by her need for survival or not, Clio couldn’t help
it, she loved him.

“Ham… You like it?” Russ asked.

Clio looked away… “Not sure I’ve ever had it…?

“You just wait young lady,” Russ said as he walked by her
with the dampness not fully dried on his face. He welcomed the cool breeze
around his eyes, hoping it would hide the tears that were still evident through
puffy redness.

“What should I take out to go with it?” Clio asked as she
headed toward the kitchen behind him.

“Grab those potatoes,” Russ said. “Some of those carrots
too...”

After dinner they finished packing for their trip. Clio was
shocked how heavy the bullet filled magazines felt in her hand. She donned the
fully loaded rucksack and was sure her shoulders had never felt anything so
substantial before. Her legs were holding-up fine as she swayed back and forth.

 
“Think you can handle
it?” Russ asked after reaching across to tug on one of the straps, pulling her
forward.

“Yeah… think so…”

“Good,” Russ announced, slapping her on the shoulder as if
she were one of his young Privates from his Army days.

Clio bounced under the heft while she dug her thumbs under
both straps that draped over her shoulders. “Heavy though,” she confirmed,
adjusting the green foam so it didn’t cut in to her collarbones so much.

“You can do it… Bedtime though... Let’s get some sleep young
lady.”

“Can I sleep in your room tonight?” Clio asked after the old
man’s suggestion of bedtime triggered the images that she’d unwillingly
collected over the last couple of days.

“Brush your teeth first… yeah… you can. Come on in when
you’re done in the bathroom.”

Clio didn’t answer but she felt her heart sing at the answer
that she so desperately wanted to hear. For some reason, she couldn’t tolerate
sleeping tonight in a room by herself. Being exhausted made her first night
sleeping alone in Bell’s room tolerable. But now, she was more rested and her
memories were working in a constant barrage of horrible snap shots. Clio
grappled them in a losing scrimmage from the second the old man said,
“Bedtime.”

Sunrise:

Thinking about ham, Clio woke hungry. Unaware the kind of
animal it was from; she didn’t care, thinking
I want some more
. Holding off the pressure against her bladder, she
stumbled across the bare floor and quickly made her way to the bathroom. She
rushed in and sat down on the cold seat.
What’s
that smell?
Clio took in a deep breath and wondered what it was.
Delicious…

The smell crept deep and filled the house. Clio rushed to
wash her hands and didn’t bother drying them as she hurried out. The aroma was
pulling her down the hall toward the kitchen. She heard something crackling
after turning the corner to see Russ standing over a skillet.

“Is that ham?” Clio asked.

“Sort of… but better,” Russ announced.

What could be better
than ham
? Clio wondered,
impossible
.

“Sort of… What does that mean?”

“Look out, this is hot,” Russ said as he walked over and
forked out two pieces from the splattering grease and plopped them down on her
plate.

“Doesn’t look very good but it smells… good,” Clio said
leaning in, pinching at the steaming ripples of fat.

“That’s bacon young lady. You’ve never had this before?”
Russ asked.

“No, my dad was kind of strict about what I was allowed to
eat. Heard of it though, I think…”

After realizing it was too hot to hold, Clio dropped a piece
of bacon back on the plate. She moved her face in closer while she sniffed once
more; blowing up-and-down the two wavy slices. She gingerly picked one up.

“Mmmm,” she said with a smile and carefully chomped. “Hot,
hot.”

“Good?” Russ asked.

Clio stuffed the entire piece into her mouth and already had
the second piece waiting in her hand as if it were a loading dock lift station.
Licking the grease off her fingers, she plunged it in her mouth before she was
done chewing the first piece.

“Can… have more? Please…” Clio asked managing to talk while
sucking air in, to cool a few sections that were still hot.

“Slow down first young lady,” Russ ordered.

“Ok,” Clio responded and noticed Lady enter the kitchen.
“She should be next,” Clio said, pointing at the dog.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her. Won’t I?” Russ asked
turning his head out of the fridge and glancing at his dog. “Roof!” Lady’s
tongue hung down before is slithered back inside her mouth with anxiousness
written all over her face.

After opening the fridge, Russ pulled out a hefty hambone
that still had meat around it. “You want this?” Russ asked his dog, teasing her
with it as he held it out, rocking it back and forth.

“Roof!” Lady barked and remained seated as her tail skimmed
across the floor, wagging like a duster as it moved back in forth at warp
speed.

“You sure?” Russ teased his dog as she barked again, louder
this time, her butt moving back and forth with her gyrating tail. He tossed it
at her paws and the dog chomped the bone, pausing, moving her eyes at both
humans, as if to say,
mine
. Rising up
with the treat firmly grasped in her mouth, Lady strutted out of the kitchen to
enjoy the bone in peace.

He didn’t dwell on the fact that this could be their last
meal. Just in case though, like he did with dinner the night before, Russ knew
it was right to make it a special one.

“To withdraw is not to run away, and to stay is no wise
action, when there's more reason to fear
than to hope.”

-
Miguel De Cervantes
 

“Think I killed it Cy?”

“I’m detecting a very weak heart beat from the creature Dr.
Marcus,” Cy announced in words that carried over with the sound of two people
talking under a thick comforter. Oozing between every crack and hardening in
semi-pliable foam, the foam gel had filled up inside the cab.

“Good… I hope it stops,” Marcus announced. In that moment he
realized that he’d come close to being killed by something that he was
partially, if not fully responsible for creating in the first place.

“This crash foam is making it hard for my scanners to detect
anything through Dr. Marcus. I’ll confirm if it’s dying… dead…” Cy confirmed,
pushing the foam away from his face before pivoting toward Pressfield. “You
wait here Dr. Marcus.”

Cy began to work his way through the foam and opened the
passenger door.

“No… wait…” Dr. Pressfield said, realizing he wanted out. He
couldn’t stay inside of a giant Twinkie forever. Disobeying Cy’s order to stay
put, Marcus squeezed through the rubbery foam material and searched for the
door handle. “Pop,” the pressure from the crash foam sprang the door open.

Dr. Pressfield watched the beast as it rested with its face
on the hood, the lower half of its body crushed between the vehicles. Its head
was turned toward Cy and Marcus almost hurled from the rancid odor that
permeated the air.

Not possessing the strength to lift its skull off the hood,
the humanoid flopped its head over and faced Marcus. The creature’s eyes
remained half open and it looked deep into the ones staring back. Dr.
Pressfield still appeared to be a treat as it salivated, still wanting to taste
Marcus’s blood. The massive humanoid’s eyes slowly shut as it dreamed its final
dream; slipping off to whatever final resting place such abominations go.

Unafraid, Cy jumped on top of the hood and stood near the
dead creatures motionless head, scanning for another ride.

“A military Hum-Z,” Cy affirmed pointing ahead.

“How far is it?” Marcus asked, bobbing his head around but
unable to see the truck.

“Less than a quarter mile Dr. Marcus.”

“Let’s go Cy,” Dr. Pressfield nervously requested. “Come
on,” he said looking around as they moved toward the military truck. Dizzily
checking in all directions, Marcus Pressfield constantly swiveled his head
three hundred and sixty degrees.

“You can relax. I’ve got it Dr. Marcus,” Cy affirmed as he
scanned farther than the scientist could ever dream of seeing.

“I know Cy,” Marcus responded, as his instincts demanded he
swivel his head around and continue checking for danger anyway.

“My scanners detect the closest life forms are over seven
miles away from our location Dr. Marcus.”

After Cy’s confirmation that the coast was clear, Dr.
Pressfield calmed a little, but still wanted to be inside the military
transport – immediately, just the same.

The Hum-Z sat on the shoulder with its nose pointing toward
the tree line. Relatively unscathed, it was in good working order, at least for
a military vehicle.

Marcus saw something, wondering what it was as they
approached the truck. The shape now clear, he noticed a helmet that sat in the
distance, open side facing up, bordering the edge of the highway and half
filled with rainwater. The Jarheads referred to it as a brain bucket. There was
no sign of the Marines or even their clothes. As no skeletal remains were
inside the truck, the helmet was the only evidence hinting at what happened to
the men.

“Would you like me to drive Dr. Marcus?” Cy asked.

Pausing before climbing inside, Marcus peeked over the
roofline after he heard the question. “No, I think I should drive for right now…
K Cy.”

“I’ve always wanted to drive Dr. Marcus,” Cy announced with
sparkling eyes while climbing in. “Truly, I’ve dreamt of it,” he explained
while commanding an invisible steering wheel out in front of him.

Marcus shook his head. “You’ll get your chance buddy.”

The Hum-Z was as dead as every other vehicle that sat on
this section of I-95. Dr. Pressfield searched for the auxiliary switch to power
it up. “Where the hell is the thing?” he asked, continuing to run his hands
over the center console.

Cy reached up and flipped a switch located under the rear
view mirror. “That one Dr. Marcus?” Cy quipped like a jokester while the
vehicle powered back to life.

 
“Thanks Cy. Where’s
the door lock on this thing?” he asked, running his fingers over every button
on the door.

“Click,” the doors locked after Cy pressed the control
button in the middle consol. “I’ve got your back Dr. Marcus,” the cyborg said
with a smile.

Dr. Pressfield, a smart man, had now been instilled with the
intuition of a bumbling idiot. At the moment, he was an emotional wreck. He
gazed through the windshield and tried to manage his shot nerves. Events over
the last few moments finally caught up to him. Trying to calm, Marcus drew deep
breaths. Shaking, his palms rested on the steering wheel.

The vibrations of the now operational truck gave him
confidence and he sighed with relief. He pressed the throttle down and the
motor’s roar helped to sooth him to a manageable level. Manageable for driving
anyway, he hoped.

“Date a country boy because he knows how to treat a lady
right, open doors pull out chairs, and have date night on a back road with
trucks in the mud.”

-Unknown

North Carolina:

Breakfast was over.

“We ready to go?” Clio asked.

“Not yet. Need to do one more thing.”

“What?”

“Come on young lady, follow me… grab your pistol,” Russ
ordered after he slung a rifle over his shoulder and headed out the door.

“What’s that?” Clio asked of the strange device the old man
was carrying in the palm of his hand.

“Juice,” Russ replied.

“We taking that?” Clio asked as they walked toward an old
pickup truck.

“Gunna try… if it starts that is,” Russ affirmed before he
opened the driver’s door. After looking inside for a moment, he pulled away.

“What do you want me to do?” Clio asked as she observed Russ
walk around the truck inspecting.

“Pop the hood,” he requested while pushing his foot against
a back tire to feel the pressure. Satisfied, he continued around to the front
bumper. Clio climbed in and searched for the release.

She pressed a button that had a picture of an open hood on
it. “Pop,” the hood released and bumped up.

“Good,” Russ confirmed, lifting it and disappearing behind a
wall of metal. Leaning in, he began attaching the ends of the pocketsize
battery tender that he’d carried out with him. It sparked the moment he clamped
the charger around the negative terminal.

Breathing life, Clio heard static crackled through the
speakers, emanating ghostly sounds of what was once, a popular station. While
Clio searched for the volume nob, Russ walked around to give her the ignition.
After lowering the spooky hiss, she turned to face the old man.

“Know how to start one of these?” Russ asked while holding
out the ignition key. Clio grabbed the key and tried to take it from his hand
but he didn’t let go.

“No,” she said, looking down at the key, easing up and no
longer trying to pull it from his hand.

“Slide this end in there… go ahead,” he prodded while
nodding at the ignition, finally releasing his grip on the key.

Fiddling to line it up,
got
it
, Clio slid the key into home. Russ torqued his fist in the air as if he
were still holding the key. “Turn it,” Russ ordered, curious whether the truck
would start.

“Like this?” Clio asked as she twisted gently, stopping too
quickly. The motor made a dull cranking noise but didn’t start.

“Yes, do it again. Harder,” Russ ordered.

Feeling unsure, Clio twisted and cranked the motor.

“Yay!” She shouted as white smoke poured from its exhaust.

“Press the gas pedal,” Russ said pointing down. “That’s
right, push it down girl!”

Clio romped the pedal to the floor and the motor screamed.
“Easy! Whoa… whoa…” Russ shouted as she let off and then used the steering
wheel to pull herself up and back into the seat. Idling, Clio felt the truck vibrating
around her.

Vapor poured out of the exhaust, swelling up over the truck.
Russ coughed and Clio watched it sail past the windshield as if it were
invading marshland fog on a humid morning.

“Why does it smoke and stink like that?” Clio asked while scrunching
her face.

“That’s good old carbon monoxide,” Russ said, remembering
how joyful the old gasoline powered truck made him feel.

“Is it good for you?”

Russ shook his noggin and smiled. “No. It’s not good for you
Clio, but I still miss it…” Russ thought about the times he and his wife would
motor the truck out and drive to dinner on romantic nights. Sadly, he
reminisced about the times he and Sue made love in the bed of the truck,
embracing under the stars of a very different world.

“Room! Room!” Clio couldn’t help herself as she giggled and
mashed the throttle. The sound snapped the old man out of his daydream.

“Turn it off; don’t want to waste gas… Go ahead and start
loading it up,” Russ ordered after Clio plopped out of the truck before looking
back at it with a sense of accomplishment.

“Ten hut,” Clio said before saluting and running up into the
house.

Kids
, Russ
thought, watching her run up the front steps, bounding with excitement.
I hope we don’t find her mother dead or half
eaten
was his next thought, which changed his mood to something more
solemn.

Russ and Clio made trips in and out of the house until the
truck was loaded with all the items the old man thought were necessary to
bring.

“We ready?” Clio asked after she followed Lady up and inside
the cab.

“Almost,” Russ responded.

“What are we missing?” Clio asked with a bit of
disappointment.

Russ rubbed the top of Lady’s head and looked at Clio as he
familiarized himself with the truck again. “We need more fuel, need to make a
stop or two before we hit the railroad tracks,” Russ explained, craning his
head toward the tailgate as he put it in reverse.