Saturday, October 1, 2011

The Boys of Winter - Chapter Six

Robin didn’t have to work very hard to jimmy the window open; it was as clumsily locked as it had always been. After a quick glance around to make sure he was still alone, he put both hands on the sill and boosted himself up into the narrow space, contorting his body to fit through the opening. He landed lightly inside and turned back to close the window, carefully locking it again; properly this time, so it couldn’t be so easily opened.

The room was very dark even for his eyes, adjusted as they were to the darkness outside; the sky had been clouded over for the past few days and no moon or stars peeked through to illuminate the area. He moved cautiously across the room towards the light switch by the door, bumping his knee against the couch as he did. He reached up to flick on the light switch, then froze at the sound of movement behind him.

Whirling, he kicked out, tilting his foot to aim his heel at what he hoped was a vulnerable spot. To his surprise, hands grabbed his ankle and yanked him off his feet. He landed hard on his back, the breath knocked out of his lungs, and raised his hands in front of his face in an attempt to protect himself.

The lights came on with a flicker and he risked a peek through his fingers, not sure if he should be relieved or not to see a large, broad-shouldered but undeniably still human stranger, even one that looked as surprised as Robin felt. The man blinked then offered a wide hand to help him up. Robin accepted it, though warily; the stranger was twice his size, even if he did have one arm in a sling.

“Who the hell are you?” the man asked.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Robin said, trying to sound cocky and confident. His voice cracked in the middle of the sentence and he felt his cheeks go red when the man obviously bit back a smile. “How’d you even get in?”

“The way normal people do, through the door.” The man raised an eyebrow at him then glanced at the closed wooden door. “I take it you didn’t.”

“I came through the window,” Robin muttered, then sighed. “Name’s Robin Estavan.”

“Shia Jackson.” He offered a hand again, this time to shake. “You hurt?”

“Just my pride.” Robin rubbed at his backside. “And maybe my ass.” He offered a grin and got a smile in return, but the gesture was wan. Now that he’d gotten over his fright at being surprised, Robin could see an ashy greyness to Shia’s dark skin, and the bruised half-circles underneath Shia’s eyes. He glanced again at Shia’s injured shoulder and hesitantly gestured to it. “Need me to take a look at that? I’ve had first-aid training,” he added defensively in response to Shia’s sceptical look.

“I’m fine, thanks. I cleaned it earlier.”

“Okay.” Robin looked down at his feet as an awkward silence descended. “Um… I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s cool. Is this where you’ve been staying?” Shia sat back down on the couch, wincing as he gingerly leaned back.

“Yeah. I used to work here before… you know, before. Have you… heard anything?”

Shia shook his head. “Only the news a few nights ago, before all this happened. You're the first person I've seen since—in a while. First person I've seen in a while.”

Robin blinked and for an instant he saw a woman he’d never met standing in Shia’s place, standing with one hip cocked and blowing a bubble with her gum at the same time as she rolled her eyes. Instead of the cramped, dimly-lit back room of the store, he saw a school campus full of students hurrying to and from class. Then he blinked again and the image was gone, leaving him feeling faintly nauseous and disoriented. He reached up to rub at his forehead, trying to tell himself he was just tired and stressed out.

“You okay?” Shia asked, giving him a concerned look.

“Yeah, fine. Just a bit of a headache. Got any water?”

“Yeah, here.” Shia leaned over and snagged one of the bottles neatly stacked on the nearby table, tossing it underhand to Robin. Robin fumbled it, mentally cursing his clumsiness, but managed to catch it by the top before it fell on the floor.

“Thanks,” he said, aware that his cheeks had gone bright red for the second time. He twisted the cap off and took a long drink, watching Shia walk over to the window and check the lock.

“Anyone could get in here?” Shia asked.

“Only if they knew about it and it wasn’t locked properly. I don’t think any… anyone but me could get it open anyway. Um, you really don’t look well, if you don’t mind my saying so. Maybe you should go back to sleep.”

“Yeah, okay.” Shia wandered back over to the couch and settled down, clumsily pulling the blanket up over himself. He closed his eyes and it wasn’t long before he began to snore. Robin smiled a bit and got up to turn off the lights, then settled on the floor with his back against the couch to try and catch some sleep himself.

When he woke again it was morning and the room was dimly lit. He got to his feet and stretched, wincing at the pain in his butt and across his shoulders from the uncomfortable position he’d slept in. A glance outside showed him that it was raining again, though now the raindrops were mixed with big wet flakes of snow. Robin made a face then wandered into the little employee bathroom to empty his bladder and wash as well as he could in the sink.

Shia was awake and sitting up, yawning and rubbing at his eyes one-handed, when he came out of the bathroom. He greeted Robin’s ‘good morning’ with a grunt and shoved himself to his feet, shambling past Robin into the bathroom. Robin stifled a snicker, thinking that Shia reminded him of a bear just waking from hibernation, and went to pick through the pile of food on the table.

“Hey, Shia?” he said when Shia shuffled out again, looking slightly more awake. “Can you drive?”

“Yeah, but my car died a while back. I hiked in on foot. You got one hiding somewhere?”

“I know where to get one, as long as you can drive it. We can go somewhere else and see if we can find anyone who knows what the hell is going on.” Robin watched Shia gently rotate his shoulder, wincing with each movement, and hesitantly added, “You sure you don’t want me to take a look at that?”

“It’s fine, just stiff. Where’s the car?”

Robin let it go, unwilling to push the issue with a stranger, especially one so much bigger than him. “Let’s grab some food first, then we’ll get going. Okay?”

“Sure,” Shia answered distractedly, looking at his shoulder. For a moment Robin felt a sharp twinge in his own shoulder. He reached up to rub it, then dismissed it as sympathy pain and went out into the store proper to fill plastic bags with as much food as he could carry.

By the time they stepped outside, the rain had turned completely to snow and a thin layer of white already covered the asphalt of the parking lot. Robin shivered, rubbing at his arms through the thin material of his shirt. His comment about needing to stop and get other supplies like warm clothing was answered by a disinterested 'mm-hmm' from Shia and he gave up on trying to talk as he lead the way to the car.

It was parked on the other end of the parking lot, in the small loading bay that belonged to the furniture store next to the pharmacy. In its tucked-away spot it had gone unnoticed in the destruction on the night the volcano had erupted. Robin had known the previous owner, a swaggering man in his forties who still thought he was twenty-five and a hit with every girl in existence. He had worked in the furniture store, but he had constantly come over to the pharmacy to hit on the teenage girls manning the counter. More than once Robin had thought about telling him to get lost, but the man had been tall and intimidating. The thought of taking his car—the car he’d been so proud of showing off—made Robin feel guiltily pleased.

He opened the driver's side door and rummaged around in the box between the seats until he found the keys, then handed them to Shia. Shia seemed a little more alert as he slid in behind the wheel and started the engine; it made Robin feel better about hopping into the passenger seat. The car had been well taken care of, and a few nights sitting outside didn't seem to have done it any harm. Turning the vents towards him so heat warmed his chilled skin, Robin settled back in his seat and directed Shia towards the nearest clothing store.

Most of the clothing had been torn apart or ruined by the rain and snow coming in through the broken plate-glass front windows, but they managed to salvage enough to fill up the back seat of the car. Robin found a couple of flashlights in the back room and added them to the pile, along with all the batteries he could scavenge and a pile of blankets from the furniture store next door. As they got back into the car, the snowflakes grew larger and began to stick to the windshield, sliding slowly down until Shia turned on the windshield wipers.

Robin directed him out of the plaza and onto the highway, then found a map in the glove box, spreading it out over his knees and using his finger to trace out a route to the nearest big city. Settling back in his seat again, he called directions as Shia carefully maneuvered around the crashed cars littering the road. The warmth of the car and the steady silent fall of the snow combined to make him feel sleepy and soon it was all he could do to keep his eyes open, no matter how often he forced himself to sit up straight and concentrate.

He didn’t realize he’d finally dozed off until the car swerved suddenly, hard enough to throw him against the window. His head hit the safety glass hard enough to make him yelp and he shoved himself up, blinking in bleary surprise and pain. To his alarm he saw that Shia’s head was nodding and his eyes were half-closed; his hands had relaxed on the steering wheel and the car was beginning to slide in the fresh snow.

“Shia! Wake up!” Robin punched him hard in the shoulder.

Shia snapped awake and caught the car as it was sliding into the other lane, correcting it just before they would have crashed head-on into an abandoned pick-up truck. The car fishtailed for a few frightening moments before straightening out and Shia let it coast to a stop, breathing hard.

“Sorry,” he muttered, reaching up with one trembly hand to rub at his eyes. The other he kept firmly on the steering wheel, his grip so tight his knuckles turned white. “I’m all right.”

“You might be, but I just about needed a change of underwear.” Robin took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to keep his fear-driven anger out of his voice. “Jesus.”

“I said sorry. We’re almost there, right?”

Robin watched him for a moment, then looked around for a sign and compared it to the map. “A little further. A couple of miles, I guess. You should still pull over and sleep for a few hours.”

“I can last for a few more miles.” Shia blinked a few times then pushed himself up from the slumped position he’d slid back into. He started to push his shoulders back but winced and let the injured one drop again. Robin could see how pale he’s gone and felt sympathy for him, but more than that he was afraid that Shia would fall asleep again and this time they would crash.

“No, pull over and sleep. I’d rather wait a few hours than die in a fiery car crash.”

“No.” Shia looked over, catching his gaze, and Robin found he couldn’t look away. “I’m going to keep going and you’re not going to stop me.”

“Not going to stop you,” Robin repeated, feeling dazed; his voice sounded like it was coming from far away. Shia held his eyes for a long moment, then finally turned his attention back to the road, gently pressing down on the gas.

Robin spent the rest of the drive digging his fingers into the sides of his seat, but every time he thought about asking Shia to slow down, something kept his mouth shut. By the time they reached the city outskirts he had a pounding headache and only wanted to lie down and sleep. He forced himself to turn his attention to the streets, squinting in the dying light as he searched for any sign of other people. The snow had been heavier here, turning the streets to slush, but he saw no activity as they rolled slowly down the street.

“See anyone?” Robin started to ask, then caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

Shia slammed on the brakes and swerved as something darted out in front of the car. The car’s wheels slipped in the slush, caught for a moment, then lost traction again. The car fishtailed and spun out, bumping up onto the curb and ramming into a light post. The hood crumpled in and the impact jolted Robin painfully against his seatbelt.

He stared at the long crack now running up the windshield, eyes wide, until his heart slowed its hammering. A quick glance at Shia showed the other man was all right, if as wide-eyed with shock as Robin himself. Taking a deep breath, Robin put a hand on the door handle but froze when he realized shadowy shapes were converging on the car. In the last of the light he could see dark stains on their torn clothing and the quick, jagged way they moved. Unaware that he was whimpering half under his breath, he twisted around to look out the back window, but they were there too, completely surrounding the car.

As the last of the light faded from the day, they began to scratch and paw at the car’s doors, seeking a way in.

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