Chapter 1
I just wanted a drink, or maybe five, who cares? But I was minding my own business until I wasn’t anymore. It wasn’t on purpose. Everyone was watching the TV, in these last few days all they talked was about a pandemic coming, something with hemorrhagic fever for what I heard there's a lot of casualties so far.
And this time they were talking about closing boarders and closing airports. Even if they did that nothing was going to change around here, though we were two hours away from the closest big city it was a lot of nothing between here and there.
But anyway, I was minding my beer like most of the patrons, even though they all know me they never talk to me, and I like it like that. The truth was that nobody knew how to talk to me anymore, not since I came back from the military. Alone.
I was not the friendliest or the nicest.
I always kept to myself, until today it seems. Not only that, but I just wanted to drink in peace and quiet. But those two were making so much noise, screaming at one another. She wanted him to go home to be with her and the four kids, he wanted to stay here and drink until he couldn’t anymore.
But when he raised his hand and smacked her right in the face, I couldn’t take it anymore, other people were coming to the rescue too but somehow, even with four beers in I got there first, and then it was my turn to raise my hand, and I did, and also closed it, which caused me to punch him right in the nose.
And that’s how I find myself in the back of the police car now.
“Home?” Hank asks me from the front.
“Yes.” I murmur.
“I got to ask, it this going to be something happening frequently?” Hank, was a good guy, close to his sixty, he knows me since i was born.
“No.” I said, and his eyes locked on mine through the mirror. Pity. Always pity when they look at me.
“I probably shouldn’t be saying this but, we’ve been in contact with the big city and other places, they didn't tell us much, have you been watching the news?” I give him a small shake of my head and he goes on. "There’s a lot of talk about this virus and for what I can tell it’s getting serious, a lot of people will be running from the city.”
“And what do I have to do with it?” Not the friendliest, I told you.
“If it really is that bad, it is a matter of time for people to come in our direction, I hope they keep going, but some probably will want to stay. What I’m saying is, you know how short-staffed we are, and if things go how they say, we will need help keep some of the order. You could help.” He says and stops the car in front of my dark, lonely house.
“Don’t know if I want that kind of responsibility. You know how I get through my days.” I say.
“I understand, it would be a temporary thing, until everything went back to normal. But it’s your choice. Mary has been asking about you, by the way.”
“Tell her I’m good.” I say, he gets out of the car and opens the back door for me.
“Are you?” He asks barely above a whisper. I look into his eyes and quickly look away with a sigh.
“Hank-”
“I know what it’s like. Three decades ago, I was in your place. So I know what it’s like.”
“And how did you…uh?”
“Survived? Well, I can tell you two things, one, alcohol is not the answer, the only thing at the bottom of the bottle is emptyness, and i understand that is what you want but it's all temporary, everything will still stay the same.”
“And the second?” I ask in a broken voice. The knot in my throat gets tighter, the heat behind my eyes hotter.
“My Mary.” He says with a chuckle. “I’ll not bore you with details, but I just want you to know that it will get better, not today or tomorrow, maybe not even next week but eventually. And the most important thing you need to know is that no one, absolutely no one in this town blames you.” Before he can say anything else, I turn to my house and walk away.
“Thanks for the ride, good night, Hank.” I turn my key in the lock and get inside. With my back against the door, I let out a sigh, my hands shake with the emotions and I turn them into fists.
I will not cry, I will not cry, I will not cry.
I know that nobody blames me, I don’t blame me, I know that I did what I could, I tried. But survivors guilt is another thing.
Romero, James, Octavia, Kevin and I, knew each other since we were kids, we went to school together and when high school was over we decided to join the military, there was also Sylvia, but she didn’t want to join.
She and Romero were a couple when we went, there was some tension on those first deployments, but even that didn’t break them. It was hard for both of them to be separated for months but Syl was not made for the army, she stayed in town opened her plant nursery shop and that was it.
A couple of years after our first mission, we came back and they got married. They didn’t want to do it forever, and were on their last mission together when everything went to shit. It seemed so simple until it wasn’t.
And once again I say, I know it wasn’t my fault, though I didn’t die, I had my share fair of injuries, the right side of my face is full of scars, and my back all from 3 degree burns. I have some shrapnel somewhere in my hip, and my right leg was burned from crotch to ankle. Now, all there is super thin and sensible skin that makes going up the stairs uncomfortable.
That's nothing compared to what happened to them though.
Sylvia still comes around from time to time, but it's hard to look her in the eyes, they had all their life planed, marriage, get out of the army and then kids. My head tells me it should've been me.
Because I don't have anyone waiting for me.
