Sudden Independents

Hunter lay awake in bed and peered between the drapes where the frosted windowpane tinted the outside world white. The constant snoring from his roommate woke him up early, making further sleep impossible. The first snow would soon fall and then he’d be trapped in town for the winter. The thought disturbed him, and he found no consolation from the warm body snoring next to him.

He repositioned his pillow in a restless attempt to regain his interrupted dream. A short pause in the snoring quickly renewed with greater gusto. Molly’s arm dropped across his chest and the contact sent him over the edge. He cringed, ready to tear out of his own skin to escape. He rolled out of her grasp and his toasty feet slapped the freezing hardwood floor.

Molly stirred and wrapped herself inside the covers, including the ones he just vacated. “Where are you going?” Her eyes remained closed.

“To the bathroom.”

Hunter frowned and pulled on jeans, sweater and a pair of wool socks. He hurried from the room before she could entice him to stay, which was always an easy thing for her to accomplish. He wandered downstairs and stoked the coals in the fireplace and added another log. Then he fell on the unoccupied sofa, curling up into a ball with hopes of a few more hours of dreaming.

Moments later, feet pounded on the front porch. His eyes popped open in agitation. The front door swung wide, followed by a frosty gust. The chill spread a rash of goose bumps over Hunter and set his teeth to clacking.

Frustrated, Hunter hammered his fist into the back of the sofa several times when the owner of the pounding feet failed to enter right away.

“Hurry up and shut the door! You’re letting the heat out!”

“In a second,” Scout called. “Better yet, give me a hand.”

Hunter growled and pushed himself off the sofa. He reached the doorway and shivered. Heavy clouds packed the sky, barring any chance for the sun’s warmth.

Scout stood in the back of a truck, wrestling with a bulky object lying in the bed. He brought one end up and over the side rail and then pushed the rest of a large rolled-up rug over the rail and onto the porch.

Hunter folded his arms from the biting wind and shook his head, dismayed at yet another one of Scout’s finds. He brought everything home. “Where the hell are we going to put that?”

Scout flashed a big grin and hopped to the ground. “Grab that end and help me get it up to my room.”

Hunter slipped on his boots by the door. “Where’d you get it?”

“I found a farmhouse to the northeast last week that had a bunch of good stuff. Mark and I took the truck this morning to get some things. There was a really nice crib set for little David and I got myself a new rug so I don’t freeze my feet on the hardwood all winter.”

Hunter peeked into the truck bed, but he saw nothing he wanted. “What did you get me?”

“I didn’t get you anything,” Scout said, slipping in front of Hunter like he was hiding something. “Why, what do you need?”

“My own bedroom,” he said.

Scout smiled. “Well, I know where there’s an abandoned farmhouse, minus baby furniture, one rug.” Scout lowered his voice. “And some sewing supplies for Ginger, but don’t tell your girl about that.”

Hunter bent down to tie the laces on his boots. “Don’t worry, we don’t really talk much.”

“Gotcha.” Scout said.

Hunter stopped tying and shook his head. “Cut it out. I didn’t sleep much last night.”

“Now you’re just bragging.” Scout winked.

Hunter dropped the topic altogether and took one end of the rug. He frowned when he realized his choice forced him into hauling the thing upstairs backwards.

They hefted the rug through the door and up. Hunter cursed when he fell over the top step. He fought out from under the heavy roll and then pulled the rug and Scout up the rest of the way. They negotiated the corner into Scout’s room and dropped the bundle with a loud flop. Hunter hoped all the noise hadn’t woken Molly.

Scout’s room was a montage of nostalgia, without any apparent theme. He was a hoarder and proud of it. Shelves lined every available wall space and were filled with all sorts of things from toys, miniatures, books, stuffed animals, framed pictures of dead movie stars, bobble-heads, metal cars, laptops, e-readers, videogames, cameras, a variety of cell phones and MP3 players, pocketknives, comic books, action figures, board games, baseball cards, baseball gloves, bats, and balls, Frisbees, Yo-yos, dog collars, trophies for various sports—especially bowling—and finally, an assortment of busted clocks with their hands set at 3:30.

Hunter thumbed at the clocks. “What’s up with the time?”

Scout looked over and flashed a smile that quickly found its way to his eyes. “School’s out. Time to grow up.”

Hunter nodded with a grunt. School for them was out the moment they were big enough to ride their motorbikes. They were never Vanessa’s best students. Hunter didn’t like to admit that Scout was smarter, but Vanessa was her little brother’s live-in tutor at the time. When Jimmy arrived home from the fields, he was always too exhausted to help Hunter calculate math problems or quiz him on his spelling words.

Hunter traced his finger through a layer of powdery dust amassed on the shelves. “I see your collection is growing. You’re going to have one hell of a garage sale someday.”

“What’s a garage sale?” Scout asked as he wound an old clock that worked if there was an accurate source for the correct time.

“You’re kidding, right? You don’t know what a garage sale is?”

Scout placed the clock back on the shelf. It was ten in the morning according to Scout’s internal timekeeper. “Hunter, if I knew what it meant I would be in on the conversation. What’s a garage sale?”

“It’s when you sell stuff you don’t need or want any more out in your garage. My mom used to set up shop in our garage every spring. I lost all my Transformers one year when I wasn’t paying attention.”

Scout look horrified. “Why would I want to sell my stuff?” He faced a section of shelves and stretched his arms wide, protectively guarding his treasure. “You never know, we might need all this again someday. Besides, we didn’t have a garage where I grew up. Plus, we didn’t have a lot of stuff that we’d even consider putting up for sale.” Scout slid his hand inside a baseball glove and punched the leather pocket with his fist. “Someday I’m going to give all of this to David.”

“David?” Hunter asked. “What about your own kids?”

Scout laughed. “You’re the one working that angle, not me. I like being on my own too much. You’re the next daddy around here. I’m not stepping into that trap.”

Hunter chewed on a fingernail. The idea of having a baby with Molly was even scarier than the approaching winter that would kill his freedom for the next four to five months. Luckily, Samuel had given him a little ‘sex pep talk,’ as the older boy referred to the embarrassing chat. Afterward, Hunter rode straight for the nearest drugstore and cleaned the place out of condoms. So what if they were expired. Better safe than sorry.

Hunter realized none of this really mattered. “We’ll all be dead before any of that happens.”

Scout brushed away Hunter’s comment with a wave of the baseball glove. “You’re as morbid as your brother. The plague is over.”

“No one’s turned eighteen since Greg. That doesn’t mean it’s over. And I am not my brother.”

“Can’t you just enjoy being fifteen and having a hot, older girlfriend? If this were back in the day, she wouldn’t cross the street to kick you in the balls. And you definitely wouldn’t be getting any loving. So what if you have a kid. Somebody has to keep the population going, plague or not. Use your survival instincts.”

Hunter glanced down the hall and closed the door. He lowered his voice so Molly wouldn’t overhear. “Man, a kid is the last thing I want. And the second to the last thing I want is to be cooped up here, sharing my bed and practically every waking second with the princess. I’m telling you, Scout, I’m going to freak out if I don’t get a break from her soon.”

“What’s wrong with you, dude? She’s so hot looking and for some reason she’s into you big time.”

“Yeah, but you don’t know what it’s like hanging out with her every day. It was fine at first because I was still able to get away and do my thing. I built up time to actually miss her—couldn’t wait to get back. But since this cold weather rolled in and we can’t travel out that far, I don’t know how much more I can stand. She’s got me all wrapped up.”

“At least you have someone to snuggle down with,” Scout said. “I wish I did on the cold nights. Plus dude, she’s so hot looking.”

“You’re repeating yourself.”

“Yeah, but man, seriously, she’s so—”

“I know. That part is awesome. I realize that, believe me, but you can’t do it all the time.”

Scout smiled. “Speak for yourself.”

“Whatever, man.” Hunter rubbed sleep out of the corner of his left eye. “Look, I’m just sick of her complaining about everything. She’s miserable to be around. She doesn’t have one nice thing to say about anyone.”

“Yeah, I see that. She treats everybody like they’re lower class.” Scout spread the web of the baseball glove and then snapped it shut. “So, are you seriously thinking about dumping her? She made you a man and everything.”

Hunter puffed out his chest but didn’t have the heart to hold it. “I don’t know. Lately she’s been hinting about riding out with me next spring. ‘Just a little trip,’ she says, ‘just us.’” Hunter shuddered. “I should probably dump her.”

“Probably,” Scout said. “Help me turn this real quick.”

Scout grabbed his end of the rug and Hunter hooked his hands around the other. They shuffled in a semicircle and placed the rug in front of a bookcase. Scout rolled it out and a poof of dust flew up.

“I like all the blue flowers,” Hunter said.

“It’s really colorful, huh? I guess I’ll get used to it.”

“At least your feet won’t freeze off.”

“Yeah, and it won’t keep me up all night snoring.”

“You hear her, man? She could wake the dead.”

Scout was staring at Hunter like he’d eaten a bug.

“What?” Hunter asked.

“You think she’s bad, you should hear the both of you together. It’s like the house is caving in on me. Why do you think I keep those headphones on my nightstand?”

Hunter glanced at the set of thick headphones with the missing cord. “I should probably dump her.”

“You’re repeating yourself. And yeah, you probably should, but what the hell do I know? What I do know is you better be careful when you dump her. And give me some notice so I can be out of town that week. I don’t want to be anywhere near here when she goes off. And she will go off. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Hunter said, scratching his head and trying to think of a way to break up with Molly that didn’t involve his death. “What do you think I should do?”

“If I were you,” Scout said, “I would make her dump you.”

Hunter felt a shimmer of excitement. “How do I do that?”

“I have no idea. Normally, I would say, ‘be your naturally charming self,’ but for some reason she doesn’t mind that.” Scout smiled and sat down on his new rug, running his hand over the pattern. “So I guess you have to figure out how to push her buttons.”

Hunter heard a door open followed by a sleepy voice. “Hunter, are you downstairs? I need my tea.”

Scout chuckled. “You’re up, slugger.”

Hunter stomped over and swung the door open. Molly leaned against the entry to his bedroom with her blond hair tousled in a good way, and wearing his favorite shirt that hung just below her hips, exposing her long legs.

“What are you doing in Scout’s room?”

“Talking to Scout. I’ll get your tea in a minute.”

“Why don’t you come back to bed, instead?” A playful sparkle shined in her eyes. “It’s too early to be up, and I’m cold.”

Hunter leaned his head against the doorjamb and sighed.

“Maybe you should hit and run,” Scout said behind him.

Hunter nodded and tripped over his own feet as he followed Molly back inside their bedroom.





Jimmy was up early, turning the dirt over in a field for winter preparation. With the end of this year’s harvest, he considered what worked with the crops and what didn’t. It helped determining what to try next year. He smiled, thinking he might live to see another season with Catherine’s help. She was the miracle he was unwilling to hope for—a chance to beat the plague and live. With Catherine’s help, Jimmy might actually grow up.

The approach of his March birthday still scared him, but a little light brightened his thoughts these days so they didn’t always dwell on gloom and doom. Last winter had been tough without any hope.

Now whenever Jimmy’s thoughts circled around ‘what ifs,’ he shook them off and focused on farming. The vegetables they had grown provided the town with a good variety. There had been plenty of water for irrigation, and Jimmy had collected and saved seeds from the best of the crops to replant next spring. He felt good knowing the town would prosper, with or without him.

A suspicious itch on his back dragged his attention away from work. He stopped digging and spotted Samuel running toward him through the patches of morning fog; his breath looked like Jimmy’s old Lionel steam engine, puffing as he raced across the field. When Jimmy saw Samuel’s drawn and serious face, he immediately gave him his full attention.

“We got company, Jimmy. Three kids just drove into town, two boys and a girl. They say they’re from Iowa.”

“Iowa, huh. Think they’re telling the truth?”

“Who knows? There’s one really big kid that looks like a tough guy. The other one seems too smart and he’s got some creepy eyes. The girl is pretty sexy, though. I don’t think she’s with either of the other two, but you might feel that out for me when you talk to them.”

“Where are they now?” Jimmy asked, pulling his shovel from the ground. He started walking. Samuel fell in step beside him.

“I left them with Mark at Brittany’s. They’re busy eating. They seemed really hungry.”

Samuel stumbled over a dirt clod that barely broke his stride. Still, he struggled with keeping the pace Jimmy was setting. Visitors made Jimmy nervous.

They stopped at their house so Jimmy could wash up. The last time visitors came to town was over three years ago. Since then they had found a couple of kids, like Catherine, but otherwise no one appeared to be traveling anymore. After arriving in Independents, most kids wanted to settle down, call a place home and started living again. Wandering around had gotten old real quick.

Visitors meant other kids were out there surviving. Hopefully, Jimmy thought, they’d have information about something…anything…helpful.

He grabbed a towel, wiped the wet grime from his face, and washed again before looking up to find Samuel anxiously shifting from one foot to the other. “Would you stop doing that? Where’s Catherine?”

“Probably home with Ginger. You want me to go get her?”

“No. I want you to go keep her there.” He hung the towel over the porch rail.

“Don’t want word of your personal healer leaking out?”

Jimmy ran cold water though the tangles of his hair before slapping on a clean hat. “Samuel, I don’t know these kids or where they’re from. For that matter, we don’t really know where Catherine’s from. She could have run away from them for some reason. I need to talk to her before she meets them. But until then, yeah, I don’t want word about her leaking out. I’ll go meet these guys and see what they want first.”

“You’re the boss.”

“Don’t give me that, man. You know I’m just trying to do what’s best.”

“I know. I just don’t want to close us off like that, fearing everybody that comes into town. I think that’s one of the reasons the world was so messed up before. I was hoping we were making a better place.”

“I’m with you on that. But it isn’t going to change overnight. We’re still in survival mode here. I’d give these kids the shirt off my back if I knew they needed it. I just want to make sure they’re not going to try and take it without asking, that’s all. ”

Samuel removed his stocking cap and scratched his head. “All right, I’ll go babysit Catherine while you interrogate…I mean, meet the new kids.” Samuel smiled.

Jimmy managed to smile back. “At least you keep me honest.”

“Somebody has to or you’d be eating up all the eggplant.”

A vein throbbed in Jimmy’s forehead and he thought for a second it might be the plague rather than his rising irritation. “Would you stop with the eggplant? I won’t grow so much next year if that will make you happy.”

“Sure. What about the broccoli?”

Jimmy punched Samuel’s shoulder. They called them “love taps.” Sometimes Jimmy tapped harder than he really should.

“Tell Ginger what’s going on,” Jimmy said, “Keep them inside until I get there. I don’t want Catherine running off to introduce herself.”

Samuel rubbed his arm. “I’ll be sure and tell Ginger how much you love her, too.” He tapped Jimmy back.

Jimmy staggered as his shoulder went numb. By the time he regained feeling, Samuel had bolted halfway down the road, laughing at him. Jimmy massaged his shoulder, suddenly fearing Samuel would tell Ginger how he felt.

• • •

The kids of Independents were packed in front of Brittany’s when Jimmy walked up, their collective breaths raising a tiny cloud of excitement in the cold. They were in rows from smallest to tallest, all pressed near the large windows. A muffled discussion quivered through the mass huddle and their voices reverberated off the glass.

“What do you think they want?”

“Where did you hear they came from?”

“I wonder if they have pizza.”

“I think the red-haired boy is kind of cute.”

“Ooh, gross!”

Jimmy stood behind the group until somebody noticed his reflection in the window and his name was passed along from kid to kid. They turned as a unit.

“Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“It’s Saturday!” they said, using the voice reserved for stupid grownups. Jimmy guessed he’d graduated early.

“Is it?” he smiled. “Is it really? Well, what do you normally do on Saturday?”

“Play.”

“All right then, you guys go play. As soon as I’ve talked with the visitors I’ll let you know all about them.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to—uh, I mean yeah, I promise.” Jimmy moved sideways, allowing the group to pass. They scattered in ten different directions. He watched them leave and was about to take a step when he realized Emma remained and was looking up at him. Jimmy couldn’t recall the definition of precocious, but thought the word probably applied to Emma.

“Yes, Emma?”

Emma glanced around and then, on her tiptoes, cupped her hands over her mouth. Jimmy leaned in close as she whispered, “Will you find out if the red-haired boy has a girlfriend?”

Jimmy scanned the area before giving Emma the thumbs up. She smiled, patted his hand, and ran off after her friends.

Jimmy stepped through the doors and tipped his hat to the youngest Brittany who was busy rolling silverware inside clean napkins. Her return smile appeared a little nervous. She directed him to the action by pointing a rolled napkin toward Jimmy’s usual table. Mark and Vanessa were entertaining the visitors. A steaming cup of something sat before everyone at the table and Jimmy hoped it wasn’t the last of the hot cocoa.

Chef Brittany could be heard giving orders to the other two Brittanys in the kitchen, preparing for the next meal from the sounds of the rattling pots and pans. Jimmy poured himself a glass of water, partly because he was thirsty, but mostly to calm his mounting tension before entering the mix.

“This is Jimmy,” Vanessa introduced him as he approached. “He’s also on the town council. Jimmy, this is Chase, Patrick and Kessie.”

Chase had black, piercing eyes; made creepier by the dark circles around them. Beyond that, his face was as pale as a white pillowcase and sweat beaded his brow. His manner appeared older than a kid. Something about those eyes though, caused Jimmy to immediately raise his guard. When Jimmy said hello, Chase seemed more interested in his drink and refrained from shaking hands, claiming he was suffering from a cold. He sure didn’t look well.

Jimmy held out a hand to the red-haired kid, Patrick. Jimmy thought if he could hook Patrick up to a plow then they’d have the fields ready in no time. Patrick crushed Jimmy’s hand when they shook; smiling, as though they were having fun together.

When he shook hands with Kessie, she held on longer than necessary. She smiled, her green eyes twinkling, and she shooed a strand of auburn hair from her face, guiding it back in place. Jimmy wouldn’t call her sexy, but then he was attracted to different qualities. Mainly the ones Ginger possessed.

“What happened to Samuel?” Kessie asked.

Somebody had made an impression. Jimmy knew Samuel would be pleased if someone ever told him. He found a chair next to Vanessa, across from the visitors. “He offered to finish up the work I was doing out in the fields. He told me you guys drove here from Iowa.”

Patrick and Kessie both looked at Chase. Chase sipped his drink, holding the cup in both hands before resting it back on the table slowly.

“We’re from a small town in central Iowa,” he finally said. “After two of the older kids died last month from the plague, we decided to drive out and see if anyone had discovered the cure yet.”

Vanessa hissed and Mark laid a comforting arm around her shoulders. The gaze they shared made it clear that the plague had been on their minds more than they cared to mention. Vanessa would never want to leave little David. Jimmy was sure Mark felt the same way. They all hoped the plague was over while silently worrying every day about its impending approach.

Jimmy squeezed the back of his neck, concerned about how sore it felt. He did a lot of work that made him sore, but still he wondered and that led to the worry.

“We haven’t heard of a cure yet,” he said. It wasn’t really a lie. Catherine might be a cure. Might. And yeah, he wasn’t ready to share her. He reasoned if Samuel thought he was selfish, he could live with that. All he wanted to do was live.

Chase stared at Jimmy for a time before glancing away with a shrug. “I figured as much, but we decided to go find out instead of sitting around waiting to die. We headed west on I-80 and never saw a soul. With winter coming on, I knew we’d better turn back soon. Patrick found some fresh motorcycle tracks leading south so we followed those here. Is this Kansas?”

“Kansas is a couple miles south of here. You’re in southern Nebraska. Samuel’s brother gathered us together and brought us here after all the adults died.”

“Where’s he now?” Patrick asked with a gravelly bass that reminded Jimmy of his dad.

“He passed away two years ago.”

“The plague,” Patrick said.

Jimmy spread his hands. “When he turned eighteen. We were hoping he was the last.”

“Don’t count on it,” Patrick said. The big kid frowned and dropped his gaze to the floor. Jimmy pegged Patrick at being about the same age. Now he was pretty sure of it.

Chase actually grinned. “Three in our town will turn eighteen this year. Patrick’s birthday is in the spring.”

Jimmy spoke to Patrick. “Mine’s April 5th.”

Patrick’s eyes were flat and heavy. “You got me beat, but not by much. April 7th.”

Chase chimed back in. “I would tell you guys not to give up hope, but we’re just a bunch of dumb kids, right? We’d need either scientists to discover a cure, or a holy miracle. Unfortunately, we don’t seem to have either one.”

Jimmy leaned back in his wooden chair. Mark still held Vanessa with his arm around her shoulder. Her face was lined with grief and Jimmy knew she should leave and spend time with her baby. Silence became the centerpiece at the table.

Chase was right about the hopelessness of discovering a cure, but the miracle was not that far away. Something in Chase’s eyes told Jimmy he knew about Catherine but wanted her for all the wrong reasons. Jimmy reached for his glass and gulped the water down, along with his resolve to keep his secret.

“Do you know why the plague only affects people eighteen and older?” Chase asked.

Jimmy pushed the brim of his cap up and scratched his forehead. “No. We don’t even know what caused it in the first place. We’ve heard tons of rumors.”

Chase scooted closer to the table, eagerness making those black pupils expand. He licked his lips. “What kind of rumors have you heard?”

Jimmy considered Chase’s curiosity, trying to read the boy’s sudden excitement but figured he just wanted to understand. “People talk about a bird flu epidemic out of China, or one of our own military experiments gone wrong. Or even a combination of the two where some terrorist group used a biological weapon against the United States, but I would have expected some sort of help from other countries if we were the only ones affected.”

Chase wrung his hands together. “All of those are very good. There’s also the alien plot to wipe the planet clean so they can harvest our natural resources. It still doesn’t explain why eighteen is the cut-off. Something biological wouldn’t just affect a specific age.”

“What then?” Jimmy asked.

“Biblical.” Chase narrowed his eyes. “Have you read the Book of Revelation?”

Jimmy shifted one sore cheek on the wooden chair for the other. “My parents weren’t big on church attendance.”

“I’ve read it,” Vanessa spoke up. “I’ve read the whole Bible several times since the plague. I didn’t witness any type of rapture.”

“Don’t you think your parents did?” Chase asked.

Jimmy pulled his cap back down wanting to end the crazy talk. He never cared for this kind of stuff. “Where are you going with this, Chase? And how long before we get there?”

Patrick dropped his meaty hands on the table with a loud thump, and Jimmy shared a look with Mark. The big kid wasn’t dumb enough to start a fight in the middle of town, Jimmy hoped, but then Chase coughed and drew everyone’s attention back to him.

“Have patience, Jimmy. Book of Revelation, chapter thirteen, verse eighteen reads: ‘This calls for wisdom. Let the person who has insight calculate the number of the beast, for it is the number of man. That number is 666.’”

Chase smiled. “Eighteen is divided by six three times.”

No one else spoke in the tension of the moment. The two other members of Chase’s group remained silent, differing in their reactions to the conversation. Kessie inspected her fingernails and picked at the dirt underneath, while Patrick’s sleepy eyes looked bored and possibly hungry, for food or whatever.

Jimmy wanted this creepy party out of his town as soon as humanly possible.

“Well, Chase, it sounds like you have it all figured out. I don’t really buy it, but at least I have a new rumor for my collection. In terms of dealing with this plague, I wish we could have helped each other out.”

Jimmy spotted an upward twitch in the corner of Chase’s mouth, and found his reflection, small and trapped, in the sickly boy’s soulless gaze.

Chase pulled a white handkerchief from his front pocket and wiped his nose. “I do, too.”