all god's orphans

Daniel was sitting in the living room with his mother when he heard the deep belly groan of a truck pull up to his house. At first, fear shot through him and when the truck honked its massive horn, that didn’t help matters. Peeking through the curtains, he saw Brian behind the wheel of something that looked like it was designed to tow yachts. Or houses. Or houses with yachts attached to them. He walked out to the driveway trying not to laugh.

“Are you sure you’re gay?” he asked. Brian chuckled and shut off the giant engine.

“Pretty sure.” he said and jumped down from the driver’s seat.

“Why did you pick this...thing?” Daniel looked it over. It was black and sleek, with chrome trim and wheels so big and shiny they were like full-length mirrors. It had a back seat and could comfortably fit three professional football players sitting shoulder to shoulder. The bed was so high off the ground that he couldn’t see into it, but even from where he stood, he could tell that it would accommodate a queen size bed with room on either side for a nightstand.

“Why not ride out the apocalypse in style?” asked Brian, running a hand along the flank of the beast.

“Did you get me anything?” Daniel teased.

“Matter of fact, I did.” Brian pulled a red baseball hat from the front seat. The front of it declared “Thompson’s Ford” in prim script.

“Be still my heart.” feigned Daniel.

“Well it was a truck dealership, so pickings were slim.” Daniel took the hat and placed it daintily atop his head.

“How do I look?” Brian took a step back.

“Like you got a boyfriend with a big ass truck.”

“Lucky me.” Daniel scoffed and they headed back into the house. Carla was still sitting in her chair. She smiled as they entered.

“Hello.” She said cheerfully, stunning Brian.

“She can talk?!”

“Yeah,” sighed Daniel, “That started right after you left.” He turned to his mother, “Mom, you remember Brian?” She smiled but obviously had no idea who Brian was.

“Hello, Brian.” Her voice was bright and even now, Brian could get a sense of the free spirit type of person she had been.

“Hello.” He replied, then in a lower voice to Daniel, “Does she know what the Hell is going on?”

“No.” his voice was low and sad. He had hoped that she would snap out of this and become her old self again, but it didn’t seem like that was going to happen. It was a strange thing to lose your mother and still have her, he found. There wasn’t an accurate word for this kind of grief.

Daniel didn’t seem terribly interested in interrogating his mother, but Brian needed information. He had to know what was going.

“Carla?” he asked, bringing her attention back from the middle distance to focus on him. She smiled.

“Yes?”

“What do you remember?”

“About what, honey?” Brian sighed as Daniel watched them from the kitchen. He had tried to get answers out of her already and found she had nothing to say. He could accept that, but Brian obviously couldn’t.

“What did you do yesterday? Do you remember?” Brian asked, trying to conceal his annoyance. Carla’s brow furrowed.

“Yesterday?” She seemed to struggle both with the word and her memory. “I don’t have any yesterdays.”

“So you don’t remember anything? Nothing at all?” Carla’s smiled faded. She was sad to have disappointed this nice young man. Brian saw her face fall and put his hand on her leg. “It’s okay.” He reassured her. “What’s the first thing you remember?” Carla’s eyes searched the place as though she were looking for the answer. When she spotted Daniel, relief spread across her face.

“Him!” she exclaimed. “I remember him. His name is Daniel.” Brian smiled to see her happy.

“Do you know who he is?”

“He’s my son.” Brian turned to Daniel.

“Well that’s something, at least.” He’d hoped this would make Daniel smile, but he just shook his head.

“No it’s not.” He said to Brian, then to his mother. “Mom, what’s my last name?” Carla looked confused again. “It’s okay, mom. Never mind.” Brian was confused. “I told her I’m her son.” Said Daniel. “But she has no idea what that means. Not really, anyway.” Brian left her sitting on the sofa and crossed the open plan house to the kitchen island. Daniel’s face was a mixture of confusion and pain. This must be what’s it’s like for people with Alzheimer’s, he thought.

“So what should we do?” Brian asked, hoping to focus Daniel’s mind on the here and now, but Daniel just shrugged. He was obviously nearing the end of his rope.

“We’re gonna need food soon. My mom was never good at keeping the cupboards full.” He smiled at her. “She preferred to eat out and order in.” Brian grabbed the keys to his new truck.

“Now that’s something I can handle. I’ll be back with dinner soon.”

Brian piloted his massive truck through mostly empty streets. Every once in a while, he would see someone standing out in their yard, staring into space or looking confused. If he waved at them, they waved back, but otherwise they paid him no mind. He kept expecting to find the police or the army, but there was nothing. No sirens. No distant wailing. With the windows down, he could hear nothing out of the ordinary. If he didn’t know better, he would think this was just some lazy Sunday morning. He scanned the horizon for planes or helicopters. There was nothing. In the distance, he could see a faint, black plume of smoke rising up into the clear blue sky, but that wasn’t terribly unusual.

Out of habit, Brian drove to the Walgreen’s instead of Kroger. He never liked going grocery shopping during the day. He preferred to go at midnight when there was nobody there. It occurred to him that at Walgreen’s he could stock up on insulin, as well. He felt good to be providing. He turned on the radio and switched through the stations. Static fizzled on all the frequencies until he hit the classic rock station and Rush erupted from his speakers. The shock of it startled him and then brought instant comfort. He sped down the road towards Walgreen’s feeling like a million bucks.

As he pulled into the parking lot, he could see the windows had been smashed and the doors were nothing but frames. He realized that looters might still be around, so he parked around the back and brought his rifle with him, just in case. At the entrance, he stopped and strained his ears but there was nothing to here. He relaxed a bit. From what he could see, the looters had taken electronics and other useless items. They’d left almost all of the food.

The lights were still on and the coolers were still running. That was good news. Insulin needed to be refrigerated. On the way out, he told himself, he would grab some food. He made his way down one of the aisles, stopping to help himself to a Snickers bar before investigating the state of the pharmacy. A metal grating was pulled down over the main window, but the door was made of wood and secured with nothing but a deadbolt. Brian didn’t have time for this shit.

He moved back as far as he could down one of the aisles until he could almost no longer see the lock on the door. Taking a prone firing position, he took careful aim, placing the crosshairs of his scope right where the locking mechanism would be. He was only about thirty feet away, so it wasn’t a difficult shot, but it still felt strange to be shooting a gun in Walgreen’s. He took a moment to relax and then BLAM! The bullet slammed into the lock and blew it apart. Brian smiled at himself and went inside.

There were pills everywhere and he reflected that if he were the less reputable sort, he could make a killing selling these. Sadly, he was neither a drug dealer nor a pill aficionado and he had no idea what most of this stuff was. He looked around for the refrigerator, but there wasn’t one. Near the back he found another locked door and inside he thought he could hear the comforting drone of a fridge. The pharmacy was small and he didn’t want to take another shot standing this close to the door so he went in search of the keys.

Luckily for him, humans are lazy and he found them lying right next to the cash register. Inside the back room he found a fully stocked fridge and took everything that said ‘insulin’ on it. He stuffed two plastic bags full of medicine and then stopped himself. He suddenly realized that there might be others who needed this stuff. What gave him the right to take it all? If what Daniel had said was right, most of this would expire before he could use it anyway. He placed one of the bags back into the refrigerator and left the door unlocked. It made him feel better.

He left the pharmacy and headed back towards the front of the store without noticing that someone else had come in while he’d been in the back. Brian was almost on top of him before he noticed the guy standing in the candy aisle, contemplating the racks of colored sugar while holding an AR-15. He ducked behind an end cap before the man could see him.

He stayed quiet and still, hoping he had remained unseen. He could hear the wrinkle of candy wrappers as the guy took some and left others. He seemed to be alone, which put Brian at ease. He wasn’t looking for trouble. Suddenly, he heard the man’s footsteps coming towards him. Next to him was the cooler and a door stood beside that. As quietly as he could, he ducked through the door and into the dark storeroom behind all of the refrigerators.

Staying low, he watched the man’s feet peruse the cold drinks and when he was sure that he couldn’t be seen, he slinked away towards a sliver of light on the floor that slipped in beneath a door. Opening it, he found himself on the side of the building.

He jumped in his monster truck and started it up in a hurry. He drove over a curb in the back and out onto the main street to avoid going back around to the front, just in case that guy wanted to take a shot at him or something. The thrill of it tickled parts of his brain that he wasn’t very familiar with and it made him feel strange. It was almost disappointing that he wasn’t going to have to fight for his spoils. It would have made a better story when he got back to Daniel, but instead, he drove down the street blasting classic rock.