“Fine,” Prue muttered as she unhooked her keys from the small clip attached to her belt loop. She saddled her own bike, started it up, and pulled ahead of him out of the parking lot as she continued to grumble to herself. “Shit, just what I need…for him to criticize and judge where I live. Fuck me all to hell.”
Prue led Owen down some side streets and within five minutes was able to pull up to a rundown apartment building that housed roughly two hundred people. She pulled into the first slot available among the massive collection of old beat-to-shit vehicles that had seen much better days, leaving Owen to figure out where he was going to park his Road King. She could already imagine the thoughts going through his head—the first being would his bike still even be there by the time they returned. She felt a jolt of satisfaction run through her at his discomfort before guilt settled in. She really should be a nicer person, but she hadn’t wanted him here anyway. She removed her helmet and then collected her old utility cover from the saddlebag.
To Owen’s credit, he didn’t say a word when he fell into step beside her as she walked up the cracked and crumbling sidewalk where weeds were growing in between the uneven slabs. Prue had her helmet in hand and she noticed that he did the same. She came to the first door, not needing to walk up the rusted steps to the second floor where a couple of small kids were running up and down the outside hallway. Her apartment was on the first level with easy access. As for the children, she’d given up on figuring out whom they belonged to, not wanting to know anything about her neighbors anyway. They didn’t bother her and she ignored them completely…the same non-spoken agreement she had with all her fellow tenants.
Prue slide the first key into the slot, turning the deadbolt and then did the same with two others. Just because she lived in a somewhat crime riddled neighborhood didn’t mean that she didn’t know how to protect her belongings with a quality deadbolt. She turned the knob and shoved her shoulder against the door, knowing it became stuck as the day wore on due to the combination of the sweltering humidity, a poorly constructed door, and a cheap pine frame. It wasn’t bad this time of year, but it still registered upward of seventy percent by mid-day.
She left him standing in the doorway as she walked into her small one bedroom apartment, setting her helmet on the small coffee table that she’d gotten at a thrift store a few blocks away. He took a couple of steps inside and then closed the door behind him. Wasn’t he supposed to be putting in the filter for her? It didn’t matter. She would have checked the installation anyway, so he might as well let her do both bikes while they were at his place. She certainly didn’t need to go inside his house and see all the material items he possessed.
“Give me five minutes and I’ll be ready,” Prue called over her shoulder as she walked into the bedroom.
She hadn’t bothered to make the bed and she resisted the urge to do so. She didn’t need to impress him. She took off her cap and tossed it onto the bundle of sheets before sliding open the closet door. She grabbed a duffle bag and threw in what clothes she’d need for the trip along with a sleeping bag, leaving room for essential items they would grab from the gas station. Water, protein bars, and the like would be mandatory. She’d also purchase travel-sized products, such as shampoo, while they were there to minimize space.
Prue couldn’t help but let her gaze swing to the door, wondering what Owen was doing in her living room. He hadn’t said a word since they’d entered her place and she mentally steeled herself against any opinions he may have formed. Setting aside her unmade bed, her place was relatively clean. There weren’t any dishes in the sink and she did a dusting of the living room a couple of days ago. It was presentable and a hell of a lot cleaner than the garage.
Prue hoisted her duffel bag off of the bed and left the bedroom to find that Owen was still at the front door. He’d reopened it and was watching the kids run around the parking lot, most likely having gotten bored with the narrow upstairs outer hallway. She set her bag next to her helmet and keys on the coffee table before going to the bathroom to fill a small zippered canvas toiletry bag with the necessities. She then went over to the refrigerator and grabbed some of the bottled waters she had on the shelf. She also snatched a can of sweet corn out of the pantry and unscrewed the bottom to retrieve her small stash of cash and pocketed it.
“We should tell them,” Owen said, his words muffled due to facing the street. “The wind could shift and bring the ash down here before they had time to pack their things. The roof could collapse depending on the weight of the debris, killing everyone inside of this building.”
“I don’t mean to rain on your parade, but these people will laugh in your face. Hell, any reasonable sane person would bust a gut at someone telling them that a supervolcano was going to erupt and that the majority of the United States would cease to exist,” Prue said with a shrug of her shoulder, walking back to her bag and shoving the bottles and her possibilities into the side compartment. She supposed it wasn’t nice of her to be thankful someone else had caught his attention, diverting him from really looking around her small apartment. She was grateful though. “I have no doubt that you’re taking weapons, but I don’t own a gun of my own. I know how to use one but I prefer knives. I have a couple stored on my bike. I think I’m ready to roll.”
Prue picked up the duffel bag and swung it over her shoulder before picking up her keys and helmet. She paused mid-step when she realized that he’d turned around and was now staring at her with a questioning look. She glanced at what she had in her hands, but didn’t catch what was causing him confusion.
“What?” Prue asked in exasperation, not even seeing grease on her jeans that she normally came home in. She hadn’t had time to really delve into the restoration project back at the shop anyway, so she was relatively clean. She looked back at him for clarification. “Damn it, Owen. You’re the one who said we were running out of time. Just tell me what the hell I’m missing.”
“Your cap.” Owen raised a hand to her long black hair, which was now hanging over her left shoulder. “I hardly ever see you without it. Your hair really is beautiful, Prue.”
Prue flushed and then mentally cursed at the fact that he’d caused it. She dropped her stuff back down on the coffee table and went to retrieve her cap. The reason she began wearing one to begin with was to keep the assholes at bay who thought it was okay to make a play on her while she fixed their machines. She quickly twisted her hair up and stuffed it underneath the cap.
“There,” Prue said, marching back into the living room without looking his way. She gathered up her things and then started walking toward the door, coming up short when he didn’t move. “What now?”
“I don’t think they’ll believe me either, but it’s hard to ride out of here without at least trying,” Owen said softly, his thoughts no longer on her hair. Prue thought she’d be grateful for that, but her chest tightened at his obvious regret at not being able to help these people. It was an endearing quality and his sincerity wasn’t something she was used to witnessing. “Do you know them at all?”
“Not really,” Prue admitted, pulling her cap a little lower on her forehead. She had spoken with the children maybe once or twice, but never the parents. The boys were maybe five and seven, while the girl was around ten years old. She might not know them, but that didn’t mean she wanted them to get hurt in any way. She thought about what they could say to make others believe that Yellowstone was getting ready to erupt, but she wasn’t even sure she believed it. “They couldn’t leave even if they wanted to, Owen.”
“I’ll give them money if that’s the issue,” Owen offered, giving her a sideways look. His comment made it more than clear he wasn’t from these parts. He lived on the north end of town where the upper and middle class resided, not that she held it against him. She could technically live there as well, but she chose not to for reasons she didn’t want to share. “But you don’t think they’ll take it and you don’t think they’ll believe us.”
“Right on both counts,” Prue said unapologetically, walking out and waiting for him to do the same. She reached around him to close the door but stopped. She wasn’t attached to this place by any means, but it was odd to think she was leaving it all behind. Her chest tightened and she gripped the handle a little harder when she pulled the door shut. “But you’re right. We still have to try.”
Prue led the way up the rusted stairs, not bothering putting her things down on the ground to retrieve later. They’d be gone and then she’d be out her stuff. She figured the boys and girl lived in one of two apartments, so she chose the first door and rapped on the discolored wood. Owen stood by her side, tensing when they both heard muffled voices coming from inside. Honestly, it sounded like her on a bad day at the shop, so she wasn’t sure why he was so disturbed by it. Did her language bother him? She hadn’t given it any thought before. She was who she was and she wouldn’t change for anyone.
“What do you want?”
It was apparent that the woman who answered the door was bone tired and yet she had a sponge in her hand for washing dishes. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-five years of age and her shoulders were hunched in fatigue. She had bags under her eyes, which were currently looking past them to the children below. Once she was satisfied that they were keeping themselves busy, she wiped her forehead as she studied the two people at her door. Most likely she was wondering why strangers had come calling.
Prue wasn’t sure why she didn’t speak first, especially since Owen glanced her way since she’d already said she would say something. Well, she did know what kept her quiet, but the memory didn’t sit well with her. Long ago images of her mother’s wary face and broken down body came back to her as if it were yesterday.
“Ma’am, are those your children?”
“Yes. Did they break something of yours? If they—”
“No, ma’am,” Owen assured her with a smile. It slowly faded as he got right to the heart of the matter. “They didn’t do anything wrong. I know this is going to sound really farfetched, but if there is any way you can leave this area and travel straight north into Canada or do your best to enter Mexico…then do it. We have it on good authority that something bad is about to happen.”
“Bad?” The woman glanced between them when she finally zeroed in on Prue. “Aren’t you the lady who lives below me?”
“Yes,” Prue responded after clearing her throat. This woman and her life were bringing back way too many memories for Prue’s liking. She was ready to hit the road now and hoped like hell that Owen didn’t think they could tell everyone in Florida what Berke had shared with him. The government officials would most likely come for him in a straitjacket. “I live downstairs, but my friend here is right. You should leave here if you have the means to do so.”
“Ma’am, there is talk of a volcanic eruption that could devastate the entire United States.” Owen looked over his shoulder at the children below and Prue could visibly see his brown eyes soften in response. He really did seem to be a good guy and she had to wonder why he kissed her the other night. She tried not to think about it afterward and now really wasn’t the time, but she considered asking him about it later. No, that wouldn’t happen. “Turn on the television and you’ll see that there is activity at Yellowstone.”
“That’s in Wyoming,” the woman stated as if Owen and Prue didn’t know that. Prue figured it was only a matter of time before the woman became suspicious and defensive, thinking maybe they were at her door for another reason all together. She wrapped her free hand around the door and closed it slightly. “I think you two better leave now.”
“Please just keep an eye on the news,” Owen suggested, fighting a losing battle. Prue figured he wasn’t used to that and put her hand on his arm, shaking her head that they weren’t going to get anywhere with the woman…or anyone for that matter. Couldn’t he see that they sounded like lunatics? “Remember, head north into Canada or try to enter into Mexico.”
The door closed in their faces and Prue didn’t waste time heading for the stairs. Maybe turning on the news wasn’t such a bad idea. She was starting to think they were losing grips on their sanity. Since when did she just follow along? Prue had made it to her bike and turned around to tell him that maybe they were being too rash when his cell phone rang.
“Yeah?” Owen hadn’t wasted time in answering, snatching his phone out of a pocket on his cammies. His eyes met hers and she stiffened, knowing whoever was on the other end was giving him more information. She looked up into the cloudless sky, not seeing anything different than any other day. “I have two more stops to make before heading out of town. I can’t go north. I’m going west and then up the coast.”
Prue held her breath and waited for him to explain why, but Owen remained silent and listened to the other person talk instead. After sharing more plans, he promised a man named Van that he would stay in touch as long as he could and then use the HF radio frequencies that he’d been given by Berke. Prue tried to keep up with the conversation. Owen spoke of his four friends often, plus an older gentleman by the name of Ernie. He’d often joked around the shop that his old tank commander was a prepper, but that was about all she knew of his annual vacations other than the poker games and fishing that they all did.
“Be careful, Van.” Owen bent his head and Prue had to occupy herself by starting to attach her duffel bag to the small luggage rack on the back of her bike in order not to put her hand on his arm in comfort. She could hear the concern in his voice and it stressed her to think how he would react if something happened to his friends. She took some bungee cords out of one of her saddlebags and started to fasten the relatively compact bag to the metal rungs to give her something to do. “Try to get out of the city before anything happens. It could be hours, days, or weeks according to Berke. They aren’t sure, but you don’t want to be in New York City proper when it happens. The chaos alone would be hell to deal with should that happen.”