Hope and Undead Elvis (23 page)

Rae reached over, found Nur's hand, and touched the back of it with gentle fingertips. "Thank you for helping us."

He jumped a little at the contact and Hope realized how much a shock a touch could be after months of isolation. Nur cleared his throat and parked the truck. "Would you like to look for your car first or bathe and dine?"

As much as Hope wanted to find The Way and perhaps a clue to what had happened to Undead Elvis, the idea of a clean body and full belly swayed her. The wreck would wait. "The latter, please."

A brown and white dog with matted fur wandered over to greet them. It wagged its tail as it sniffed at both women. Hope scratched behind its ears and it pressed against her legs and wrinkled its nose in a doggy grin. Rae jumped at the cold wet nose on her hand, but then knelt and threw her arms around the dog.

"He likes you. Both of you," said Nur.

"What's his name?" Hope looked around the yard. A few chickens pecked at seeds, clucking their irritations at each other. A cat perched atop the sagging corner of the roof over a hand-built porch and stared at them. Overhead, the windmill creaked in soothing rhythm.

"Fidel." Nur smiled. "Short for Infidel, because although he is a very good dog, he does not follow the way of Islam."

Hope wasn't sure whether or not to smile back. "Neither do I, Nur. Nor does Rae. She's a nun. Are we going to have a problem?"

Nur shrugged. "I've got no problem with that. Maybe once it would have meant something to me. Now those differences just seem kind of petty."

"It's too bad it took the end of the world for us to see that." Hope patted Fidel's side. He wriggled with ecstasy.

"I've rigged up an outdoor shower around the side over here," said Nur. "The windmill runs the pump that pulls water from the well. Best I can do now that there aren't anymore utility services. But I've got a firebox that will at least give you some warm water."

"It sounds heavenly," said Hope.

Nur gave her and Rae some soap, shampoo, and conditioner, explaining he'd found a lot of beauty supplies in one of the wrecks. He started the firebox for them and showed Hope how to start the gravity-fed shower. He distributed them two large, fluffy hotel-style towels, some women's clothing of varying sizes to choose from, and then made a discreet exit into one of the trailers to cook something.

Hope wouldn't have minded if he'd stuck around, even watched her shower. She'd spent enough time being naked in front of strange men that it didn't bother her anymore. And Nur seemed nice enough, but she respected his privacy as he'd been kind enough to respect hers and Rae's. She huddled under the warm water sprinkle with Rae so they could share it before the water became cold. They washed each other's hair and soaped their backs. Rae had faint scars across her shoulders and back that even her great rose tattoo couldn't cover entirely. They made Hope wonder if she'd been whipped at some point in her life. Nur had even provided the women with a razor, which they put to good use.

At last, feeling the cleanest she'd ever been in her life, Hope toweled off. She picked hardy jeans and a sweatshirt for Rae, and a large t-shirt and overalls for herself. The Shepherds' pistol went into one of the large pockets in the front. She didn't think she would need it, but would rather have it and not need it than the opposite. There were even shoes that would fit both women. Rae's short hair dried right away but Hope's took longer, and the nun combed it out with gentle fingers. "You have beautiful hair," she said. "It's so soft. I used to comb it for you when you were in your coma." As Rae worked, Fidel sat with his head in Hope's lap and looked up at her with his mournful eyes, thumping his tail whenever she looked down at him.

"He's not a neglected animal in the least," said Nur as he left the trailer, wiping his hands on a hand towel. "Although he would like you to think that. He's a devious scoundrel."

"And an infidel," said Hope with a smile.

"Yes. He will have much explaining to do if he is to get into Heaven after he dies."

"Do you really think there's a Heaven?"

"Yes, I do. I believe I will go there myself someday." Nur bent down to pet Fidel's hips. The dog looked up and licked the air with great solemnity. Nur and Hope both laughed at the animal's earnest simplicity. "I've prepared a meal for us all if you'd care to come inside."

"I could kiss you for that," said Hope.

Nur chuckled, but his gaze fell upon Rae and it made Hope feel a little uncomfortable, like she'd been privy to something she shouldn't have seen.

The trailer might have been new forty years ago, given the strange mustard-yellow color of the shag carpeting and dark wood paneling covering the walls. The floor was warped from moisture and bulged or sank in places. Decades of accumulated grease covered the vanes of the ceiling fan that spun in slow revolutions overhead.

"You have electricity?" Hope was astonished.

"A little, thanks to the windmill," said Nur. "I've salvaged enough car batteries that I can cook on the stove once a day if I give them all day to recharge."

Nur had made an amazing meal: a savory stew with chicken, eggs, peppers, onions, and tomatoes, cooked with a blend of spices that Hope couldn't identify but mixed together to make a delicious sweet and hot combination. He ladled the stew over rice and served it with rounds of unleavened bread.

Hope thought it was the most wonderful thing she'd ever tasted, and she'd eaten at some pretty posh restaurants in Las Vegas back in the day. She wondered if the spicy food would wind up giving her heartburn. She'd heard pregnant women often suffered the malady thanks to their compressed stomachs, but didn't care. She and Rae ate until they were stuffed, really full for the first time in perhaps months. Hope was astonished when she pushed back her empty bowl that it seemed like so much was left in the pot. The journey up the river had taught her never to leave behind uneaten food for fear there might not be any more later.

"That was wonderful. Thank you, Nur," said Rae. Hope gave her a sharp glance. How did the nun know the man's name? Could she have heard when he introduced himself? Perhaps her vision was returning, although Rae gave no indication of seeing anything in front of her as her head lolled a bit to one side.

"What happened to her?" asked Nur in a soft voice.

"She was deaf… before. Then the men came. The Righteous Flame."

"With the torches." Nur nodded. "I saw them once, far from here. Bad men. If you escaped from them, Allah must have smiled upon you."

"One of them attacked Rae and knocked her down. She hasn't been able to see since. I don't know if it's from shock or stress or what. I'm no doctor. I'm not anything, really. Not anymore." Hope stared at the cracked vinyl tablecloth in the trailer's tiny dining room.

"You're a mother-to-be. Children are a blessing. I can't think of anything more important for you to be now than that."

Hope looked up. "How can you tell?"

"You keep rubbing your belly and looking down at it. I can see the look in your face, what people call a glow."

"Do… did you have any children, Nur? A wife? Family?"

"I have never married. My parents died many years ago. This homestead has been my inheritance. I've done my best to honor their memory by making it something of which I am proud."

Hope smiled. "I'm sure they're very proud, wherever they are now, watching over you."

Nur's gaze wandered back over to Rae and once again, Hope felt like an intruder. "I'd like to have children someday if I met the right woman. The world may have ended, but that doesn't mean we cannot bring new joy to what remains behind." From under the table, Fidel's tail thumped. Nur scooped some stew into a bowl with rice and set it on the floor. Fidel slurped and gobbled it down. "If we all could find the simple pleasures in our lives that a dog does, we might be happy." He looked at Hope. "You and Rae are welcome to stay here as long as you wish. In fact, I truly hope you will."

Rae reached out a hand and found Nur's without any fumbling. "We will," she said.

Nur smiled at her and raised his eyebrows at Hope.

Hope said, "Thank you for your hospitality, Nur. Of course we'll stay."

Chapter Twenty-Six

Hope and the Grave Yard

Hope and Rae spent the night on Nur's pull-out couch. Rae had been so exhausted she'd fallen asleep at the table, and Nur had carried her to the bed. Hope noticed the tender way he'd touched her cheek. The poor man seemed to have fallen for the young woman, and Hope feared he'd be disappointed if Rae couldn't reciprocate because of her faith.

She hoped his disappointment wouldn't cause difficulties. Maybe it would be best if she and Rae departed as soon as they were able. She resolved to look for The Way in the morning, or barring that, some other vehicle in which they could continue their journey to Graceland.

She fell asleep with Elvis songs running through her head.

Persistent hammering awakened Hope. Bright sunlight streamed through the dusty blinds and a cool, refreshing breeze blew past her from the open front door. Rae still slept on the bed beside her, thin blanket pulled up to her chin. Hope was careful not to wake her as she slipped out of bed and pulled the overalls back on over her t-shirt.

The hammering noise that had awakened her started anew and she went outside to investigate. Nur was bent at the waist, his shoulders and arms buried in the engine compartment of a wrecked Nissan, trying to knock something loose and cursing at it under his breath.

"Good morning," said Hope.

Nur whirled in fright, a pistol in his hands pointed right at her.

Hope grabbed the Shepherds' pistol from her pocket and leveled it at Nur. "What are you doing?" she cried. "All I said was good morning, for God's sake!"

"I'm sorry! You startled me," said Nur. His pistol was unlike Hope's, a semi-automatic instead of a revolver. The mouth of the barrel looked gigantic from her perspective.

"I'm sorry too! God, I'll warn you next time."

"I'm not used to other people being around," he said. For a long moment they stared at each other, gazes unwavering, hands trembling.

"Why are you still pointing that gun at me?" asked Hope.

"Because you're still pointing yours at me."

With exaggerated care, Hope lowered the Shepherds' pistol and slipped it back into her pocket. A moment later, Nur tucked his into a pocket as well. "I'm sorry, I guess I'm just as jumpy as you are."

Nur bowed his head. "I'm embarrassed. I'm not a violent man. It's just that…"

"I understand," said Hope. "I really do. Listen, I don't think I should stay here very long. People have been dying around me since the world ended, and I'd hate for it to happen to you."

"Itchy trigger finger?" Nur wiped his hands on a shop rag and turned away from the Nissan.

Hope laughed. "No. Well, once… but it was to shoot a guy who killed a friend."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Nothing anyone could have done to stop it." Hope paused. "You haven't seen any black birds hanging around here, have you? They seem to be turning up before bad things happen."

"No, no birds except the chickens."

"Good. So I was thinking I'd look for my car, see how bad it's wrecked. Maybe you could help fix it so we can be off."

"What kind of car was it?"

Hope paused. "I don't remember. All I remember is that it was called The Way. I was in a coma."

Nur waved at the neat rows of wrecks. "You're welcome to look around. Let me know if you find it. Or if you don't, maybe there's another one you'd like to use instead. It's not like I need all of them."

"Thank you. I promise to make some noise before I startle you again." She smiled at him to let him know she didn't have any hard feelings.

He smiled back.

Fidel loped over from where he'd been lying in the sun to press against Hope's legs, begging for ear scratches. She obliged him and turned to explore the first aisle of cars. Fidel walked beside her, tongue lolling out.

"He can go with you if you want," said Nur without looking up from the Nissan's engine compartment.

"But he's your dog," said Hope.

"He's his own dog."

Hope looked down at the mixed breed. He grinned up at her and then sneezed in the sunlight. "Oh thank you." Hope wiped her arm on her overalls. "Come on, Infidel. You can help me find The Way."

Hope's cheerful spirits lasted the first row of cars. She counted twenty in the row. Some had collided with heavy, solid objects. Others were undamaged as if they'd rolled to stops or hadn't been in motion when the people disappeared. Some had burned. A few had disturbing holes in the windshields with powdery brown residue around them. Hope knew in those vehicles, the drivers had been hurled through the glass. She wondered if the bodies had lain where they fell, were eaten by animals, or sucked into the ground.

By the second row of damaged vehicles, Hope's demeanor had turned grave, and she walked slower past the wrecks, trying to decide which one might be The Way.

By the third row, she'd lost count of tbe number of vehicles Nur had salvaged. Instead of doors, trunks, and hoods hanging or pried open, the wrecks lay undisturbed like bodies awaiting autopsies. He hadn't searched them yet, cataloguing their useful parts and taking what supplies he needed. How could he keep up? There must have been a couple hundred wrecks, and he was just one man.