Free Bowie V. Ibarra by Down The Road Page A

don’t want to see that shit again. Never thought something like it would be at my front door, you know?”
    Everyone was silent for a moment. Michael got up and put his hand on Jeff’s shoulder. George looked out the open door of the grocery store. “I’m alright,” Jeff told Michael. “I’m fine, man.”
    But it was obvious that he wasn’t.
    Jeff went on: “Anyway, with all that gunfire, we’re sure as shit lucky this place didn’t blow. They were out there for close to a half hour, just firing away. When they were done we took a break, made barriers with the wrecked cars, and secured the store and the elementary school next door with boards and stuff.”
    A shot was heard from outside. George winced, but Jeff and Michael remained unfazed.
    “Since then, we got a little community-thing going. Lots of people found their way here yesterday. Lots from the surrounding neighborhoods, most getting run out of their houses by the beasts, some running away from the feds.”
    Michael commented, “Some of the people that came in said that FEMA had set up shop at the high school and college football fields and indoor basketball courts. Helluva place to feel safe, huh? Homeland Security started rounding people up yesterday, making them get ID tags, corralling them up in fenced-off areas. Lots of military and barbed wire. To protect them, they said.”
    Jeff jumped in, “Looks more like a prison camp than a refuge.”
    “Fuckin’ A,” agreed George. Familiar with the area, he knew the camp itself was just three blocks away, beyond the railroad tracks, in the same direction all the cars were headed.
    “We got some escapees coming from the camp, too. Some bring food to share with the whole community. We’re operating under the assumption that it’s going to get better. That’s why I’m still charging for stuff, food not so much as the gas. I do have a bit of charity.”
    Jeff took a final drag off the cigarette and smashed it under his foot. “Well, they’re rounding people up, as I said. Don’t know how long that will last, though. Whatever the hell’s causing these monsters to attack hasn’t wore off yet. By tomorrow, there might be more of them than us. And if that damn camp falls, who knows what will happen to us.”
    “Yeah, and it don’t even have to fall from outside,” Michael pointed out. “All it would take is one or two people dying unattended in that camp, waking back up, and start chomping on people to fuck that situation up -Real quick.”

    *****
    George spent the day and part of the night at the camp based on Jeff’s advice. He claimed the FEMA people didn’t dare leave their camp at night looking for other people. His advice made sense. So George made some friends, played a game of chess with a ten year-old (and lost,) watched the FEMA camp at the stadium through binoculars, and rested. All in all, it was a fairly relaxing day, with the camp members keeping the hordes at bay behind the wreckage.
    George planned to sleep through the night and leave at around five the next morning, just before the sun came up. Finding a cozy corner of a classroom, George drifted off to sleep.
    After a few moments, he began to dream.
    He was back in his Austin apartment, or so it felt. Esparanza was holding him in what felt like the old bed. The warmth of her love revisited his heart, and George smiled. Esparanza got up and walked out the door. George stood up and followed her, seeing a long dirt path filled with old trees. He took the path without hesitation. The trees burst into flames. He tried to put it out with a bucket of water, but the fire only got stronger. He was starting to catch on fire when Esparanza pulled him into the movie theater parking lot of San Uvalde. In flames, Esparanza pleaded with him, crying, “Kill him… Kill him… Kill him.”
    “Who?” George asked. “Kill who?”
    “Wake up and go!” she commanded.
    An explosion -shaking the building and cracking the ceiling - rattled