Black Sun by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 46

Leaving the highway, Ryan and Abby walked toward the travel plaza. The first thing they noticed was the eerie silence that blanketed the area. This was only magnified by the dark cover of night, imposing an unnerving feeling on the minds of those who dared travel on foot. But daylight would soon arrive, and Ryan thought it's best to take shelter before sunrise in order to minimize their exposure so as not to attract unwanted attention. Having left the highway, they stood in front of the travel plaza, studying it for any signs of movement. Ryan had already decided that should they see anything suspicious, they would leave immediately. He was not so much concerned for himself, but for Abby. In his mind, one assault was one too many and even if they had not become intimate, Ryan swore to himself that he would protect her, even at the cost of his life.

Having seen no signs of activity, Ryan and Abby quietly walked to the service area. The building was dark and Abby felt a cold wave shimmer down her spine. Ryan, on the other hand, peered through the tempered glass doors, hoping to find another way in that didn't require the sound of shattering glass. But with the surrounding woods absorbing any sounds, he decided to take the risk and, picking up a fist-sized rock, shattered the glass door with a single throw into a mass of near translucent crystals. The door's steel frame, now devoid of its barrier, allowed easy access to the travel plaza, and Ryan and Abby were easily able to crawl through. Once inside, they carefully made their way around, learning the building's layout. Not being familiar with such places, Abby reached out and grasped Ryan's hand, walking close behind.

As they walked through the broad hallway of the mall, Ryan heard the muffled sound of growling. Stopping suddenly, he looked around for anything that might make such a sound. Turning toward Abby, he asked if she had heard it as well. “Oh,” she said. “Sorry, I guess I'm just hungry.” Now, Ryan realized how long it had been since they had eaten and was beginning to feel the pangs of hunger as well. “Yeah,” he replied. “I'm starting to get hungry, too.” They looked around for any restaurants that might still have edible food, but their choices were very limited. “Great,” Ryan said.

Keeping his voice to a whisper, he informed Abby as to what their options were.

“We've got McDonald's, Boston Pizza, and a gift shop.” It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. Their only concern was finding something that was not covered with mold or spoiled. After a bit of thought, Ryan decided that McDonald's was as good a place as any to begin their quest for food.

Abby still gripped Ryan's hand as he led her to the counter of McDonald's. Under the light of the rising sun, they examined what was left behind. Chances were good that when everything hit the fan, those working at the plaza simply took what they could and left. But Ryan knew there had to be something, even though it might not be very nutritious. Abby turned to survey the plaza as Ryan walked behind the counter. It was only a few minutes before he found what he was looking for. Among other things, McDonald's sold cherry and apple pies. They were loaded with preservatives, but it was food, and it didn't take long for Ryan to discover the restaurant's stockpile.

“Abby,” he whispered. “Over here.”

Anticipating a full stomach, Abby rushed over and, seeing an open box of cherry pies, nearly drowned in her own saliva.

“Fuck,” she said. “Ryan for the win! We're going to eat like fucking kings.”

Ryan was as elated as Abby was, but provided a note of caution. “Abby, these things are loaded with sugar. We can't eat too much of this stuff, or we'll end up puking our guts out.” However, his words were spoken too late as Abby was already on her knees in front of the box tearing open one pie after another. Ryan tried to intervene, but was unsuccessful as she began stuffing her mouth with the sugary concoction. She would pay for her carelessness soon enough.

After consuming several pies, Abby sat back against the wall and released a belch that echoed throughout the plaza. “Holy shit,” she joked. “Now that was a belch. I should get a fuckin' award for that one.”

Still sitting on the floor, she let out a giggle, having become amused by the gaseous results of binge-eating such a large amount of sugar. But it wasn't long after that she felt her stomach gurgling again.

“Uh oh,” she began. “Here comes another one.” Sitting up straight, Abby prepared to discharge another bubble of gas. She felt it grow larger as it made its way up. “Oh shit,” she said. “Look out, this is gonna be a big one.” It seemed funny at the time, but as the gas roared out of her mouth, every pie she had eaten followed it. Abby quickly found herself on her hands and knees as her stomach emptied itself on the restaurant's stained floor.

“God fuckin' dammit,” she cursed.

Abby continued cursing between painful moments of retching as she repeatedly spewed up the last remaining contents of an ill consumed meal.

Ryan, on the other hand, ate conservatively, experiencing no ill effects and while Abby's hands became covered with her own vomit, he couldn't help but giggle at her expense. “I told, didn't I?” he asked.

Abby was beyond annoyed, and hearing him laughing brought out the worst in her. Although she was still gargling up the last of what had become a sugary slurry, Abby managed an angry cursing. “Shut the fuck up!” she said.

Ryan was still laughing, having never seen anyone expel so much at one time. But in spite of the humor he found in her sudden illness, he did feel a bit sorry for her. “I'm sorry,” he said. “It's just that I've never seen anyone puke like that before.”

With her stomach muscles twisted in knots, Abby sat back against the wall and, noticing her vomit-covered hands, began to retch again. The sight was far more disgusting than she could deal with and asked Ryan to get her some paper towels. Still giggling, Ryan complied and, disappearing into the kitchen, returned with a handful of brown paper towels. Becoming silent, he stood, shaking his head as Abby cleaned her face and hands. Believing her hands were dry, she noticed how sticky they were and raising them to her face discovered the smell of vomit.

“God fuckin’ dammit!” she said. “This is disgusting.” Holding her hands away from her face, she began gagging at the odor she feared would not go away. Ceasing only momentarily, she looked up at Ryan and asked for his help. “Shit!” she continued. “Can you find some water for me?” Ryan had run out of words, but was left with one thought. Sometimes, a person has to learn the hard way.

With so many stores having been abandoned, water was plentiful and Ryan had no problem locating several bottles of it. In light of the disaster that appeared to destroy civilization, there was a good chance that water could become almost currency. How odd it seemed that a clear, odorless liquid could become so valuable. Certainly, more so than in the world’s previous state, and Ryan clearly understood that there were people who would be willing to kill for it.

Handing Abby the numerous bottles he had retrieved, he watched as she frantically opened them and, pouring the water over her hands, began scrubbing until her skin was red. This removed the stickiness from her skin, but some odor remained. Once again, she brought her hands to her face and, detecting the odor, expressed her frustration.

“Shit,” she began. “How the fuck am I supposed to get this off?” Still chuckling slightly, Ryan walked toward the back of the kitchen and, returning with a bottle of dish detergent, handed it to Abby.

“See if this helps,” he said.

Still frustrated, Abby grabbed it from his hand and poured a generous amount between her fingers. “This ought to do it,” she said.

Given the sickness that had soaked into her skin, she again scrubbed her hands to the point of inflammation. Five minutes later, she brought her hands to her face. The smell was gone. “Jesus Christ,” she said. “Finally.”

Turning to Ryan, she noticed him hiding a grin behind an open hand.

“What’s so funny?”

Ryan’s laughter had finally subsided, but not his sense of humor. “You know,” he began. “If my phone still worked, I would’ve recorded all of this. Shit, I’ll bet I could’ve made some money from it.”

Abby’s frustration was beginning to wane, but not enough to keep her frustration at bay.

“You’re such an asshole,” she said.

Hearing her response, Ryan began laughing again. “What the fuck are you laughing about?!” Abby continued. Ryan found the incident both unfortunate and entertaining, and paused long enough to respond.

“I’ve just never seen this side of you before.” Setting the empty bottles and detergent aside, Abby got to her feet, her stomach muscles still burning from repeated vomiting.

“Well,” she began. “If I keep puking, you’re going to fucking see more of it.”

Hearing her response, Ryan decided to change the subject. There was still the matter of where they would sleep. Hopefully, they could find something comfortable and avoid lying on the floor.

Walking out to the middle of the floor, Ryan surveyed the travel center and noticing several restaurant booths led Abby over to one of them. The seats were well-padded, but there was one issue. They would be in the open, and should someone enter the building, they would at the mercy of whatever cruelty any stranger brought with them.

“Let’s see if these pads come off,” Ryan said. Abby stood perplexed and asked why he would want them removed.

“What if someone else gets in here?” he began. “I don’t want that kind of trouble, do you?”

Remembering back to the book store, Abby agreed and gave her assistance in removing the pads.

“Fuck, these are heavy,” she said.

Her frustration and language led Ryan to assume that she was still dealing with the embarrassment of repeated vomiting. He had come up with a solution, but it would have to wait as there were more pressing issues to be addressed.

Together, they successfully removed six seat pads and taking a short break, Ryan looked around for a place to set up their makeshift beds. As opposed to sleeping out in the open, he thought it reasonable to find a store room; someplace out of the way, where they would not be easily discovered. However, the store rooms attached to the restaurants were filled with boxed and canned goods and offered little in the way of space. Aside from the restaurants, there was one more place. At the far end of the travel center there was a small store stocking everything from newspapers to candy to electronics. Walking in cautiously, Abby followed close behind as Ryan studied every detail. The only thing unusual about the store was the same thing they had seen everywhere else. The power was out, and the store had been abandoned. Other than that, its entire stock was at their disposal. However, with a clear image of Abby vomiting on the floor of McDonald's, Ryan turned to her with a warning. “Nothing sugary this time, got it?”

His voice sounded somewhat firm and only irritated Abby's already foul mood.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you,” she said.

Walking to the back of the store, they found the door to the store-room. Turning the knob, Ryan discovered it to be unlocked. Its hinges moved silently as the door opened to a broad, darkened room. Nearby, there was a doorstop and using his foot, Ryan slid it under the bottom of the door to let as much sunlight in as possible. The store-room was stacked high with boxes, most of which were sealed with packing tape. Walking in, he studied the room and thought that if some lighter boxes could be moved, they would have enough space to lay out the pads from the restaurant booths. “Make sure that door stays open,” he said. Abby was already nervous about spending even a few hours in what would likely become another lightless room, one of the few things she harbored a deep fear of.

“Do we really have to sleep in here?” she asked. Ryan had already started moving a few boxes around and paused to consider her question.

“Do you have a better idea?” he asked. He continued with the only suggestion he could give her.

“We can sleep in here or out there where anyone can see us. Pick one.”

Abby knew they were out of options, but made one final request. “Can we leave the door open?”

A wide open door would likely be an obvious sign of their presence, but Ryan offered a compromise. “I don't think we should leave it open all the way, but I do think we should probably leave it open a few inches for ventilation.” Abby nodded in agreement.

Once Ryan had moved a few boxes out of the way, he stood back to judge the space they would occupy. “Do you think we can get those pads in here?” he asked. Abby sighed as she considered his question. “I don't see why not,” she said. “They're not very heavy, but it will take both of us.”

With this response, Ryan began to notice that she seemed to be taking on a somewhat confident attitude, leaving him with the thought that she may be of more help than simply being a tag-along. Perhaps, in the future, she might become confident enough to learn how to fire a gun as long as she could bring herself to kill as a means of self-defense. He certainly didn't want her to get carried away. After all, ending a life could easily be seen as an exercise in power, and power can be a dangerous thing.