Chapter 16

A New Week Begins

Leo wandered over to the garage, eating his second bowl of ramen, feeling a little less like he was starving to death. The sky was overcast and thunder rumbled in the distance.

The garage was Dad's territory. But Dad had been too busy to do anything with it in a while. It was where the family dumped all the junk they didn't know what to do with, and Leo was kicking himself for not checking the place out sooner. There had to be something in here he could put to good use.

The place smelled of dust, gas, and grease. Lydia was sitting on a broken chair, her feet on the seat, her arms around her knees. The back of the chair was missing, so she leaned against the concrete wall next to Dad's workbench. Leo went to the workbench, pushed his father’s junk to one side, sat on the bench, and continued to eat his ramen.

“So how did your friend's brother's flying go?” he asked.

“It didn't,” she said through her knees. “He broke his back.”

“What a loser,” Leo said. “I don't even know what Serpent Jelly is. Does it have another name?”

Lydia shook her head. “It comes from an African tree toad. Last Sunday you were telling me you could score any drug, anytime.”

“Might have been exaggerating,” Leo said. “Anyway, toads are amphibians. It should be called Amphibian Jelly.”

“I didn't name it.”

She was unhappy; he realized. She must have been unhappy in his previous future, too, but he'd been too involved in his own misery to notice. Sorry, Lydia, I wish I could tell you things get better.

He finished his noodles. He had to do something about Lydia, but what?

“And how did you know Maxine and Tomi were going to fight?”

“I didn't know for sure, I suspected.” Leo put his bowl on the workbench next to him. “Lydia, you're right. Something happened. I've changed. I'll explain everything when the time's right, I promise, but you need to quit messing with my stuff and complaining to our parents.”

“I don't understand,” she said. “Why can't you tell me?”

“Because you'd tell Mom and Dad, and they couldn't handle it.”

“I won't tell. I promise,” she said.

Leo burst out laughing. “Like when I told you about the seven-foot-tall biker last Sunday evening? I made that up because I knew you'd go straight to Mom and tell her, and you did.”

“I didn't mean to,” she said, sounding miserable. “It just happened.”

“I'll explain everything when it's time. I promise.”

Lydia looked at him, then back at her knees. “Last Sunday morning, you were asking Mom and Dad for a Phoenix diamond-edged chainsaw for Christmas. Because that's what Burke used to cut the head off a big monster in the second season of Monster Trauma, your all-time favorite show.”

Shit. How did he respond to that? He'd forgotten Monster Trauma. The show was so stupid. Dealing with the real thing post-Change had driven it from his mind. Sure, when you cut off a monster's head with a chainsaw, you got blood, but nothing like the large gushing red fountain from the show. And there was how the chainsaw looked going through the flesh and bone of a living being's neck. Not like the show, that was for sure.

“I got tired of the show. Besides, there's no way Mom and Dad are giving me a Phoenix diamond-edged chainsaw for Christmas.” Even if they were still alive.

“But it was your most favorite show ever,” she said, mystified by how he could have changed so much in only a week.

Had he changed that much? He guessed he must have, and it figured that Lydia was one of the few people to notice.

“Do you like apples?” Leo asked.

“No. I hate apples. They got that stupid tough skin on them,” she answered.

“Stay here. I'll be right back.” Leo took off. Days before, in a nearby yard, he'd spotted an apple tree that still had fruit. Decades of scavenging for food ensured he had made a mental note of its location.

As he ran, icy raindrops came down, a few at first, but growing worse. He ran several blocks through freezing rain until he spotted the tree peeking out from over an eight-foot-tall concrete block wall. He ran up the fence, jumped, and slipped back down, losing his grip on the top of the wall and landing on his back. A dog inside the walled yard started barking.

Even with his low stats, this shouldn't be a problem. He got back up and tried again. This time, he somehow pulled himself to the top of the wall.

“Rar rar rar rar!” A big black dog (a Doberman?) jumped up on the fence, trying to get at him, jaws reaching inches below Leo's feet before it fell back into the unkempt yard.

Leo quickly stood on the wall and picked any ripe looking apples within his reach, storing them in his shirt, and throwing those that looked wormy at the dog, who didn't appreciate this in the slightest.

A window slammed open. “Hey! What are you doing?” a man shouted from inside. Not bothering to answer, Leo jumped down from the wall and took off, running through a couple of alleys to avoid potential pursuit.

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Panting for breath, Leo returned to the garage.

“I told you, I hate apples,” Lydia said as Leo deposited six medium-sized apples on Dad's workbench, and grabbed some dirty paper napkins to dry himself off. Now that he wasn't running, he started to shiver.

He took his folding knife from his pocket and peeled one of the apples, remembering the time, decades in the future, when he'd gotten his hands on an apple. He'd shared it with Shawna, the girl who'd adopted him, cutting off one piece for him, then one for her, until there was nothing left, not even the core.

He handed the peeled apple to Lydia, then bit into a second apple, enjoying the juicy tart taste.

Thunder rumbled across the sky as raindrops hit the roof and garage door with tapping noises. Lydia nibbled on her freshly peeled apple. “Next time, steal some hamburgers,” she grumbled.

“I almost got killed by a dog for these apples,” Leo said. “Glad you appreciate it, but it's time to get to work.”

The garage was a mess. Cleaning it up in one day was an impossible task. Leo wandered the garage, trying not to trip on the junk-strewn floor, looking for anything that might be useful.

Off to the side was an old motorcycle Dad had been repairing for the last few years, pieces of the engine covered the large workbench. Next to the bike was a lawnmower. That reminded him—it was getting late in the year, but was he supposed to mow the lawn? On the left corner next to the garage door were lawn care and gardening tools: shovel, hoe, rake, and a machete for cutting weeds.

Now, the machete could be useful. He lined the rest of the gardening tools against the wall so they looked more orderly, and pulled the machete from its sheath. He made a few practice swings, then felt the edge. Dull. He put it aside and kept an eye out for knife sharpeners.

By the end of the day, he'd found a few old knives, (good ones, nothing like his cheap pocket knife), the machete, some padding, an old biker jacket he could turn into makeshift armor, and an old 12-speed bike, close to his size. The bike had probably been purchased for him. It was broken, but he suspected that with a bit of effort he could fix it up. He also found Dad's old weight-lifting set. He planned to put that to good use, improving his Strength stat.

The garage wasn't exactly clean by the time they finished, but the mess was much more orderly, the concrete floor had been swept, and the thick layer of dust covering everything had been more or less taken care of.

Mom showed up that evening. “Dad's working another double shift. His superior died—or something. So Dad got promoted. Go eat. You got meatloaf.”

“Let's watch Monster Trauma,” Leo said, once they were in front of the flat screen.

“I get nightmares,” Lydia complained.

“Chicken,” Leo said.

“Oh okay. If you insist,” Lydia said. “I'm tired of that stupid mutant puppy show, anyway.”

Monday, September 22, 2059

24 days to the apocalypse

Two good nights' sleep. Leo wasn't sure what to do with himself. Monster Trauma had been as dumb as he expected. It almost made him miss Mutant Puppies, but it had been fun watching Lydia on the edge of her seat, actually frightened by the lousy special effects.

When he went to get breakfast, a cellphone rested on the kitchen table along with a baggie containing pieces of his old phone and a note from Mom:

This was the cheapest cellphone I could find.

Try not to break it too quickly.

He picked it up. Realizing he had no idea how to make the thing work, he decided to ask Jason or Lydia for help.

When he got to school, the scary girl from last Wednesday was by the entrance again. This time, she was surrounded by Brick and his cronies.

“Cripple. What happened to your arm, bitch?” Brick shouted, bending over the much smaller girl to push his face close to hers.

That was when Leo noticed her left forearm was missing. The last time he'd seen her, she'd folded her arms across her chest, using her worn leather jacket to disguise that fact. Leo cursed himself for not noticing this before.

No wonder she was so angry.

Today, her left arm hung by her side, jacket hanging limp below her elbow. Sunglasses on her forehead kept hair out of her dark eyes as she studied her cellphone, holding it and texting with her one remaining hand.

Near the school entrance, Leo watched them, his stomach filled with anticipation and dread. He felt better about his chances against Brick than last time around, but preferred not to fight if he could help it.

Instead of being upset or scared, the girl seemed amused by the three bullies' attentions. Her lips turned upward in a smile.

“Turn around and walk away,” she said, using her cellphone to push unkempt black hair away from her face. “You do not want to do this.”

She was older than Leo, maybe 14, but her head only came up to Leo's nose. Standing in front of Brick, she looked tiny and fragile.

“I'm so scared,” Brick said, pretending to tremble with fear, “I've never been hit by a cripple before.” He leaned forward and burped in the girl's face.

The girl's response was to pocket her cellphone, and then, faster than Leo would have believed possible, she punched Brick in the face.

There was a sick thunk of flesh hitting flesh. Brick stumbled back, falling to the ground, hand covering his nose.

“If you're going to be around me? Get used to it.” She pulled out her cellphone again and started tapping on it as if nothing had happened.

Blood flowed from beneath Brick's hand. “Thad Bidth broge my node!”

Brick's Left Crony, Leo still didn't know his name, rushed Brick and held him back. “You can't fight her! She's half your size, and she's a cripple! The principal would kill us! Tanner, you filmed that?”

“Sure did,” Right Crony/Tanner said, holding up his cellphone.

“We got to post this!” Left Crony said. “We'll title it 'When Wild Cripples Attack!' Next, we find a bunch of cripples. Then we pay them to kick her ass and film it, post it, and make a bunch of money!”

“Thad agually ith a good idia,” Brick said, turning to the girl, “You goang down, bidth.”

The girl's response was to smile and wave as the three bullies left. Brick spotted Leo near the doorway as he went past. “You thil owe me one thoudand dollads,” he said as he stormed by.

Leo approached the girl.

“What?” she said.

“We need to talk,” he said quietly. “You had an implant, didn't you? That's how you lost your left forearm.” He flashed her his own implant.

She put away her cellphone, grabbed him by the throat with her one hand and slammed him against the wall. “So what? You want to rub it in? You got one and I don't. Tell me why I don't turn you in right now?”

Leo's hands strained against her iron grip. How could such a small girl be so strong? “It's okay,” he choked out. “A lot of people lost their forearms before the Change.” He fought to breathe, “but the joke's on the justice system,” Breathe. “Implant merges with the brain. You can't deactivate it that way, not permanently.” Breathe. “If you think 'Imp, please reactivate and come back online’.” Breathe. “And really mean it—Imp will come back.”

The girl's grip tightened. “That's the biggest load of...” her voice trailed off and her hand dropped away from Leo's neck. She started shaking and breathing hard, like she'd just run a marathon.

Leo gasped for breath. He was glad he'd been right. They'd forced her to deactivate her implant, then amputated her left forearm to be sure, and she hadn't known she could reactivate it. Hence the anger. A lot of people didn't know this before the Change. He wondered how many people had died because of it.

For long seconds, she stared at him. “Come on, let's get out of here.” She grabbed Leo's arm and dragged him away.