Chapter 4
KNOX
T his looks like a place that time forgot. It joins the rest of North America since Eruption. This small town though? It’s different because nobody has picked through what’s left.
In the last few years, I’ve seen some of the worst that life has to offer. I’ve watched a man steal food from his child and seen families turn on each other for blankets.
None of the places I saw those things happen were like this one.
All things considered, this would be the perfect place to try and set up a community, but it doesn't appear that there's any water near here. Although I had hoped the word Dam in the name would indicate water, that's not been the case so far. My gut tells me we’re not going to find it either.
"Which way?" I ask Beth as we come to a fork in the road.
The motorcycle idles as we sit in silence.
It’s important to me that I give her the benefit of making decisions. Both of us have been by ourselves for a long time, and I don't want her to think I'm swooping in and telling her what to do. I want her voice to be heard.
She looks both ways and then gets off the motorcycle, walking a few feet in both directions. When it seems that she's made up her mind, she comes back and points to the left. "Over there. It looks like there are some houses a bit further down the road."
Following where she's walked, I see what she's talking about. It looks like the entrance of what was a very nice neighborhood. She gets back on the bike, and we cautiously roll through what had once been a gate. Keeping my eyes peeled on both sides of us, I slowly drive down the street. Even though things look nice and quiet. Looks can be deceiving, and underestimating the situation you’re in could get you killed. "Where do you want to stop?"
I turn so that I can watch her. Her eyes move up and down the street, before she answers.
“Most of these houses look like they haven't even been touched. Let's pull into this one."
She points to a two-story brick home with a two-car garage. I pull the bike around the back and hide it in the corner of the fenced-in yard, covering it with some overgrown tree branches. It’s close enough that we can grab it and far enough that if anyone else is around, they won’t look for it.
"Stay behind me." We walk up the rock and weed covered path.
When we get to the back door, I try the knob, but it's locked, which is a good sign for us.
If people were walking through here all the time there would be a worn path.
Since there are weeds, that means there might be a safe place inside, and we'll be able to stay here for the night. Turning so that I’m facing the backyard, I force my elbow into the four-lite door.
I pick up a stick from the back porch and use it to knock the rest of the glass out of the way before reaching in and unlocking the door. "Let's go."
She doesn't say anything but touches my back for the barest hint of a few seconds, and then we enter. We're quiet as we tiptoe through the house. I don't allow myself a good look at our surroundings until I've cleared every room, and then I holster my weapon and face Beth.
"This place is nice," she says as she glances around.
There's a fine layer of dust everywhere, but this was more than likely high-end construction back before the world ended.
It's got granite countertops, hardwood floors, and the homeowner didn’t buy furniture from a discount store either.
"It is," I agree with her. "We should look and see if there are any clothes we can use and see if there’s anything we can use in the garage. "
"I'm going to head upstairs to the bedrooms we saw up there while you check the garage."
There's a part of me that doesn't want her out of my sight, but I have to remember that she spent years before this without my help. I’m quickly becoming to feel responsible for her. I guess that’s normal.
We’ve been through hell and back trying to survive, and any relationships that are started these days goes quick.
Either you know you want to hang out with someone, or you don’t.
We all know that life is precious, and it’s fast. We want to be with the people who make us feel good.
And I already know that Beth makes me feel good.
"Be careful,” I warn her, keeping my voice low.
She grins. "I'm always careful."
I watch as she turns from me and takes the stairs.
The worn jeans she wears cup her ass as her legs flex and propel her forward.
My throat is dry when I swallow. It's been a long time since I paid attention to a woman in that way.
The reaction isn't one that I'm used to having, but feeling my cock start to swell gives me some hope.
I really thought that all of this destruction and survival had killed that part of me.
Walking over to the door I believe leads to the garage, I rest my hand on the knob for a beat.
I haven't asked God for anything in longer than I care to admit, but I know that if Beth and I are going to make it, we have to keep the supplies we found.
We have to have a safe way to travel, and the way we can do that is to find a decent vehicle that actually works and has fuel.
"Please, please, please," I whisper. Let me find that here.
My stomach is full of nervous butterflies as I turn the knob and open the door. I'm surprised as hell when I see two vehicles in the garage. "Thank you," I breathe out, tilting my head back and looking to the sky. Now, to find keys and see if either one of these turns over.
The thumping of Beth's feet comes down the stairs.
"I found clothes," she announces. "A lot of clothes.
Some of them are going to fit me, and I think some will fit you, too.
There are winter clothes too, Knox. We hit the fucking mother lode, and that makes me scared.
Does that mean we're going to be screwed after all of this?
Nothing in this world has been easy since Eruption. "
"Maybe all the suffering is catching up with us. I think we'll be able to make it to Nashville if we can get all this shit and keep it." I run a hand through my hair. "There's two vehicles in that garage."
"Holy shit," she mumbles. "What kind?"
"A truck and late-model four-door Jeep. I’d like to take the Jeep. The old ones are reliable, and I know how to fix them. Come with me to see if it starts."
"Do you have keys?" she questions, looking down at my hands.
"Fuck no." I run a hand through my hair, annoyed that I didn't think of that earlier. "Where do you think they'd be?"
She moves through the house toward the front door. "If it were me, they'd be right next to the door or in my purse."
I follow her, my eyes moving down to her ass, and watching as it sways with her steps. "What do you think happened to these people? It's like this place is a tomb. It's waiting for the family who lived here to come back."
She shrugs as we get to the foyer. "More than likely, they took the bait of everyone who offered shelter for a ton of money. Most of those people died because of the stampedes in the small shelters they were placed in."
"You're probably right. Maple and I contemplated purchasing seats in one of those shelters."
Her head whips around, and I hate that I don't know her well enough to decipher the look on her face. "Weren't you and Maple divorced by then?" She shrugs when I throw her a questioning glare. “Small-town gossip, right? Y’all were the talk of Bishop’s Landing.”
Rolling my eyes, I mumble. “I just bet we were.
Yeah, but when the world might be coming to an end, you go back to what you know.
When the reports came that Eruption would be happening, I sought her out.
We spent a couple of nights together, thought about riding it out with each other and getting those seats.
In the end," I shake my head, blowing out a breath, "we couldn't even get along for more than a couple of nights.
I knew I couldn't be in a highly stressful situation with her and make it.
She and I? At the end, we were like oil and water.
Everything she did fucking pissed me off or got on my nerves, and I know it was the same for her with me.
We wouldn't have made it, so I made the decision to take off on my own. "
"That doesn't sound like it was easy," she speaks softly, her voice full of understanding and sympathy.
"It wasn't." I let myself go back to those nights right after Eruption and where I'd felt guilty as fuck, wondering if she made it or not. "I convinced myself she was better off without me."
The heaviness of what she and I discussed hangs in the air.
But I watch as she runs her hands along the top of the table right in the doorway.
She moves some mail to the side and makes a noise in the back of her throat.
"Found it," she grins, holding up a key ring.
"Hopefully these are the ones we need for the Jeep. "
She tosses them to me, and I catch them with a flick of my wrist. "Let's go." I tilt my head toward the door leading to the garage. "Cross your fingers and pray to any God that might still be out there that this damn thing turns over."
"What are we going to do with the motorcycle if it works?" she questions, following me as we walk back the way we came.
"I don't want to get rid of it. It takes much less gas than any other vehicle, and if we need to get away quickly without people following us, we can do it.
I'll look and see if I can fabricate a cargo rack to put on the back." Opening the door to the garage, my stomach grumbles with nerves. I desperately want this Jeep to run. I don’t ask for much anymore, but I’m praying that this engine turns over.
I learned quickly not to ask for favors from others or even myself.
I stopped praying years ago, but right now, I close my eyes and send a small one up.
There are windows in the garage, and there's just enough light for me to see.
Won't be for very much longer, as the sun goes down a lot sooner than it used to.
We don't have much time, and we need to do this as quickly as we can.
Pressing my thumb into the key fob, it chirps, and Beth claps her hands. "It's going to work," she whispers.
God, I hope so. Opening the driver's side door, I sit in the seat and familiarize myself.
I haven't driven or sat in a vehicle since a couple of days before Eruption.
This one isn't a push-to-start, so I carefully select what I think is the correct key and then stick it in the ignition.
Pressing my foot on the brake, I turn the ignition and listen as it slowly starts.
"Holy shit," I yell, smiling over at Beth.
"It works!" I say, even though it obviously does.
"How much gas is in it?" She runs over to the passenger side.
"Half a tank, which isn't great, but we can siphon from this other one." I point to the extended-cab truck sitting next to it.
"Do you know how to do that?"
"I learned once, never had to do it in real life, but I can figure it out. Let's turn this off to conserve what we've got, and I need to see if I can fabricate something for the motorcycle."
She nods, licking her lips. "Worse comes to worst, Knox, we can stay here a few days. It looks safe. The only thing I'm worried about is water. It's been the only thing we haven't lucked up on in this town, and I don't know about you, but I didn't see a dam, which is what we hoped for."
"You're right. I have a couple bottles in my backpack."
"I have a couple, too. We should look around and see what we can find in here.
Most people hoarded a couple of cases as they were waiting on Eruption to happen.
If we can secure water, then we're fine here for a few days.
It'll give us time to search other houses on the street and see what we can find. This might set us up for the future."
"You're right. Let's use this to our advantage. We’d be stupid not to."
As I walk toward the kitchen and she heads for what looks like a pantry, I can't help but shake my head.
We've been traveling together for a few hours, and her mentioning the future gives me hope.
While that would've freaked me the fuck out at the beginning of Eruption, I'm finding that today, being with her at the end of the world sounds pretty damn good.