Free Autumn in the City of Angels by Kirby Howell Page A

have something, and until I can get my hands on a gun, that’ll have to do.”
    My wide eyes must have given me away, because he said, “Autumn, you’ve seen what Karl and The Front are doing.  They’re taking people by force.  I’m not about to let that happen to us.”
    I nodded.  “Of course.”  I hoped he’d never have to resort to using it.  Watching him inspect the cheese, he didn’t seem the type to know how to handle a gun, let alone a machete.  He had such a gentle look about him, and I was willing to bet he knew more about computers than handling weapons.
    “What did you mean when you said you ‘cleared’ this apartment?”  I asked, thinking I probably already knew the answer.
    “Well, I can’t let Rissi just run into these apartments, not knowing what’s behind all the closed doors.”  He tossed the cheese back into the fridge.  It landed with a soft thump on the shelf.  “These people didn’t just go up in a puff of smoke when they died, you know?”
    My eyes widened slightly. He’d not only used the same phrase I thought not half an hour ago, but he’d talked so casually about it.
    “So... so you go in the apartments first and...”  My voice trailed off.
    “Clear them.”  He finished for me and began bagging his groceries.  “...Rissi knows the rule about closed doors.”
    I turned my back to him suddenly, realizing what he must go through every day just so Rissi could come with him.  Seeing dead bodies, moving them, touching them, hiding them.  I took a deep breath and bit my lip hard. There was a closed door just beyond the living room.
    Knowing they used to be alive and just like me with thoughts and fears and passions is what scared me most about dead bodies.  I’d only seen one dead body in my life.  Well, two now, counting the boy in the street.
    My granddaddy died a couple of years ago, and I’d walked with my dad to the front of the church to say goodbye at his casket.  I watched as my dad bent down and kissed his dead father’s forehead and slipped something in the breast pocket of the jacket.  I stepped forward and my granddaddy’s face came into view.  He looked like a wax figure of himself.  His skin was stretched and thick.  His lips looked swollen.  My breath caught in my throat, and I was terrified to move closer.  Without thinking, I stepped back and stumbled on my dad’s shoe.  Caught off guard, he wasn’t able to catch me, and I fell in front of everyone.  I didn’t care, though.  I stood up and walked quietly to the back of the church.  For the rest of the service, I wasn’t able to tear my eyes away from the white tip of my granddaddy’s nose that peeped out of his casket.
    I asked my dad later what he put in his dad’s pocket.  “A letter,” he said.  “Telling him what a good dad he was, and that I’d always try to be as good to you as he was to me.”  My dad wasn’t crying or even tearing up when he told me this, so I also tried not to cry.
    “You all right?” Ben’s voice tore me from the memory.  I nodded and drifted into the living room.  I found a shelf of DVDs and only half-heartedly looked through the titles.  I traced my fingertip against the cases and pulled one out, pretending to look at the front.  I guess I didn’t want Ben to realize how much the idea of dead bodies scared me.  The only thing he knew about me was that I’d survived by myself for the past two and a half months.  I liked the idea of looking tough in someone else’s eyes.
    Of course, I wasn’t tough.  I was anything but.  “It’s all in the eyes,” I heard my mother saying to me, “you may not be able to control your true emotions boiling inside you, but you can control your body, and your eyes are the key.  Control your eyes, and you’ll fool everyone.”
    A voice at my side made me jump.  It was Ben.  I gritted my teeth.  So much for being tough.
    “Sorry.  I didn’t mean to scare you.”  He apologized.  “I