Desolation (2 page)

She also hated that her room was so far away from the building’s
communal shower. Navigating the hallway was always a game of dodging
water drips and the countless roaches.

She walked past one room and heard a girl screaming.
She slowed, concerned, but then she heard they were screams of
pleasure and knew nothing was happening that the girl didn’t want.
She shook her head and continued onward.

Her dorm was supposed to be a female dormitory, but that was
one of the first rules the camp’s totalitarian administration stopped
enforcing. At first, she thought it was because that the FEMA police were
too busy defending the walls but then she realized it came down to a
simple fact: the cops liked fucking just like everyone else.

A few rooms ahead of her a door opened and a gangly naked
man staggered out into the hall.

 

She stopped and reached in her coat pocket.

 

The man looked at her, grinned in a hung-over stupor, and
waved.

Jerri didn’t wave back. She kept her hand around her concealed
weapon, ready to slice off what little he had to work with if it came to
that.

A woman emerged out of the room and threw the man’s clothes
at him, letting them fall onto the soggy carpet.

 

The man swaggered and scooped up his clothes up from the
ground.

 

The man and the woman argued with each other as Jerri slipped
past them, keeping her head low.

 

Jerri hurried her pace and retreated into the bathroom.
3

T
he bathroom smelled like moldy potatoes and raw sewage.
Brown water had pooled out of the toilet stalls. The room was decorated
with dingy subway tiling that had fallen loose in many places. A framed
poster hung above the row of sinks and mirrors that divided the stalls
from the showers.

She looked over at the toilet stalls…

 

She opted to pee in the shower stall while she bathed instead.
After all, it wouldn’t be the first time.

She walked up to one of the grimy mirrors, unzipped her hygiene
pack, and sat it on the sink. She turned on the tap water and waited for it
to run clear. While she waited, she looked at her sunken face in the
mirror. Slowly, she took off her overcoat and laid it next to her hygiene
pack.

It was weird for her to stare at the stranger in the mirror. At one
time she considered herself pretty, but long periods of malnutrition and
unrelenting stress whittled away at her youthful appearance. Her hair,
once a beautiful rich dark brown, hung flat and streaks of premature gray
ran through it. Her skin, once free of blemishes and scars, was dry,
scarred, and clung against her boney frame. Her ribcage jaunted out and
poked against her stained nightgown. However, even in her emaciated
state, she had a certain natural beauty about her that she didn’t notice.

Jerri sighed and looked away. Her skeletal apparition was a little
too much for her to take so early in the morning.

The water finally started to run close to clear so she quickly
brushed her teeth without toothpaste. Toothpaste had become a luxury
during the past few months. As soon as she finished brushing, the water
started to run red with rust once again.

The water in Arizona was always disgusting and the rain was
lacking but, compared to the camp’s recycled water, the old tap water was
like bottled Fiji. The camp’s water tasted like metallic mud. She supposed
that you could only recycle sewage into clean water so many times without
adequate chemical treatment. Since the camp couldn’t even keep
toothpaste in stock she doubted that they had adequate chemical supplies
to properly treat drinking water. She imagined that what little chemical
supply they had was being watered down to nothingness. Pretty soon the
camp would be reduced to sucking dew off of leaves.

She disrobed and stepped into the cleanest shower stall she could
find and took a cold shower without soap. The hot water had been used
up apparently. She saved what little soap she had for Sundays. Soap had
become yet another precious commodity inside the camp.

When she got out of the shower she felt dirtier than she did when
she stepped in.

 

She slid her gown back on and took a tattered towel out of her
hygiene pack and started to dry her hair.

 

The restroom door opened.

 

Jerri dropped the towel and quickly reached for the knife in her
jacket.

 

“Hey Jerri,” a familiar quiet voice said.

Jerri looked at the reflection in the mirror and lowered her hand.
She bent down and picked the towel up off the floor and went back to
drying her hair.

“Morning Krystal,” Jerri said, smiling.

Krystal, a native Bostonian, thin as a rail with long black hair,
moved as quietly as a phantom to the sink next to Jerri and kept her head
down. She always kept close to Jerri, more for protection than anything
else. Since her parents were both victims of the virus and her older
brother died of residual radiation poisoning after the government
bombarded the eastern seaboard, she didn’t have anybody else left.

Krystal’s knees buckled and she caught herself on the sink. She
bent her head down and heaved violently. What little food was in her
stomach ran down the drain.

“Holy fuck, are you sick?!” Jerri exclaimed as she dropped the
towel and turned towards Krystal. Concern washed over Jerri’s face as her
eyes scanned her friend up and down.

Krystal turned the sink on and washed the vomit off of her chin.
She slowly shook her head, tears streaming down her face.

 

“No, I… just have the flu,” Krystal said, turning away from
Jerri’s gaze.

 

Jerri looked alarmed.

 

“The
normal
flu,” Krystal corrected herself, “not the… you know.
So how are you?”

 

Jerri took her towel and slung it over her shoulder.

“Well, I woke up and didn’t have to stab anybody, so I guess my
day is going pretty good so far,” Jerri said with a grin. “I didn’t see you
last night for chow… You weren’t out with Alex again, were you?”

Krystal shook her head and supported herself against the sink.
“I haven’t seen him for weeks,” she said. “After he saw that I
wasn’t going to keep putting out, he kind of put me out instead.”
“Asshole” Jerri spat, shaking her head.

 

“What was for dinner last night anyway?” Krystal asked,
splashing some rust-colored water on her face.

 

Jerri sighed.

 

“They were closed again,” Jerri said. “It’s starting to become a
little common. Even the mystery meat is running low.”

 

“What is that stuff anyway?” Krystal asked, leaning against the
sink.

“Notice all the rat traps that they been setting up the past two
weeks? Yeah… I think I’d prefer that the meat mystery remain unsolved,”
Jerri said with a smirk.

Krystal offered a slight smile.

“Meat is meat I guess… Do you think the supply drop will come
today?” Krystal asked. The tone of her voice was telling; she already knew
the answer to her own question. “It’s been so long…”

“Sure,” Jerri lied to herself with a smile. “They can’t just let us
starve. We'll run out of vermin eventually.”

Krystal vomited again into the sink, knees buckling.
Jerri stepped back, disgusted by the smell.

Krystal broke down and started to sob deeply, her whole body
shaking.

 

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry,” Krystal said. “I’m just such a mess… I
don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Jerri took Krystal into her arms and held her close, shushing her,
patting her on the back. She looked around nervously, worried that
somebody might walk in and see Krystal sobbing. It was never a good
idea to show weakness in the camp. It would be even worse if someone
saw that she was sick. People were quick to assume the worst.

“Shh, shh,” Jerri whispered, cradling her sobbing friend against
her. “It’s just the flu. You can’t help it. Just go back to your room and rest
up. I’ll try to pick up some medicine for you after breakfast, okay?”

Krystal stifled her tears and shook her head against Jerri’s
shoulder. She pulled away and quickly wiped away her tears with the
towel.

“Thank you,” Krystal started and then choked back another sob.
She grabbed her aching stomach and groaned with pain. “You’re a good
friend Jerri… Please don’t tell anybody. I’m not well… but I’m not
infected. I promise…”

“Okay. Sure, sure,” Jerri said softly. She wasn’t sure what made
her take such a liking to the young girl but she felt very protective of
Krystal.

Krystal smiled and walked out the restroom and headed back
towards her quarters.

 

Jerri was not stupid. She was concerned that Krystal was hiding
something.

 

She decided she would deal with it after breakfast.
Provided they were serving it.
4

A
fter finishing up in the restroom and a quick change of clothes,
Jerri walked down the hall towards the dorm’s only exit, trying to ignore
her growling stomach. She was wearing a flattering yet tattered pair of
jeans and a grimy looking gray t-shirt that was far too big for her. She
liked to look a little dirty because it kept guys from staring at her for too
long. In her left pocket she kept her ID card and in her right pocket she
kept her switchblade ready just in case.

At the end of the hall the airlock door opened and she stepped
inside an archaic sally port.

The sally ports were attached to every building and acted as sterile
buffer zones between indoor and outdoor areas. It had a single shower
head overhead next to a speaker and a strobe light. A plastic sign on the
wall next to the exit door showed a stick figure holding his arms above his
head. Underneath, it read ‘All Persons Must Pass Decontamination before
Passing – Press Button to Start Process’. Next to the cracked sign there
was a red button.

It was an irritating process, but one everybody had to endure if
they wanted to pass through and go outside. Some of the other dorm’s
sally ports were broken and allowed people to come and go as they please.
Lucky bastards
, she thought as she pressed the button.

The red strobe flashed.

“
Attention. Please stand in the center with your arms above y–
[STATIC],” a metallic male voice crackled out of the ceiling’s speaker.
“
Do not m–
[STATIC]
during the decontamination process-s-s.
”

Jerri stood with her arms folded across her chest, annoyed.

An unsettling grinding noise resonated in the wall and the shower
head sputtered and spat out a plume of smoke from the failing pump. It
made her miss the days when the showers actually worked and sprayed a
fine mist of blue liquid. It used to be a refreshing break from the desert
sun.

Jerri coughed violently, waving her hand in front of her face as
the smoke settled.

 

The red strobe turned green.

 

“
You are now clear to exit the s–
[STATIC]
. Allow your skin to air dry.
Thank you for your cooper–
[STATIC] –
on-n-n-n-n.”

 

The outer door unlocked.

Jerri kicked it open and stormed outside. The sudden sunlight
blinded her. She threw her arms up and covered her face in response.
Slowly, as her pupils adjusted, she lowered her arms and looked around as
the steel door slammed shut behind her.

A vicious wind ripped through the encampment, throwing sand
and loose papers into the air as it blew through the narrow encampments
in-between the alleyways separating the dormitories. Many people
preferred the freedom that the tent cities provided as opposed to the
overcrowded dorms. Unfortunately, that false sense of freedom came with
a price when summer highs reached well over one-hundred degrees.

Stray cats and dogs were once a huge problem in the
encampments, but, like the rats, the number of strays decreased drastically
over the past few weeks. Jerri tried not to think about it. It was unsettling
to not see a single dog or cat anymore… Even the crows stayed away.

Cats were nimble and fast. Jerri hoped that the cats were able to
run away before they got caught. Jerri was a cat person ever since she was
a little girl. She wished that she had captured one of the stray kittens
before they all vanished. But at the same time she doubted that she could
stand to see her pet just disappear one day.

She tried to shield her face from the hot wind as she maneuvered
her way through the countless rows of tents. A few tired eyes lingered on
her but in a city full of bored souls with nothing to do people watching
was a favorite pastime. Most of the tent dwellers simply lounged in the
shade and napped. She did notice one man who was lying face down in
his tent, unconscious.

Two FEMA police officers wearing bulky black riot armor and
protective helmets sauntered past her, holding empty industrial-sized rat
traps. One of the officers brushed against her and almost made her fall
over.

“Watch where you’re going,” the cop snarled through his gas
mask.