Drink in case of Emergency (13 page)

“I’ve never worked with you, Tyler. So I don’t know if you’re difficult or not.” Chris wanted to be supportive to his friend, but at the same time he didn’t want to help Tyler feel sorry for himself right now. Having Tyler play the part of the victim would not help their survival in the long run. Besides, when you’re potentially one of a handful of people to survive the apocalypse, you don’t have much grounds to complain.

“What about my ambition? I mean, I don’t feel like I ever gave them anything to doubt my ambition.” Tyler set the papers aside and picked a bottle of vodka back up. Justin and Jessica were arguing about microbiotic growth and genetically modified corn on the other side of the table now.

Chris waited thoughtfully before responding. “You remember three summers ago? When we were stuck in Cancun because of the fire at the hotel?” The question caught Tyler off guard. After a moment for the memory to surface, a smile crept across Tyler’s face.

“That was such a messed up week.” Tyler fell silent again, but Chris could tell that the wheels were turning again. The smile was still lingering when a shout exploded from the other side of the room.

“I ate corn chips earlier today, you fuck! It’s not some government conspiracy, because most people who work for the government are dumb as rocks.” Tyler and Chris listened into Jessica’s shouting for another few seconds before turning back to one another.

Tyler looked down reflectively. Chris waited for a few more seconds, letting Tyler’s mind play through the memory. When Tyler finally shifted his body weight and looked up, Chris spoke.

“You thinking about when the girls from Oklahoma asked us to be their ‘big spring break mistake’? Or when the police demanded we figure out who started the fire, all Scooby-Doo style?” Chris was revisiting the trip in his own mind now too. Those were some of the best memories he only remembered half of.

“I was actually thinking about the pineapple fight.” Tyler chuckled a little as he said it, knowing that it would lead to a reaction in Chris. Making Chris angry was one of Tyler’s favorite pastimes. Chris was far and beyond the most mellow individual Tyler had ever met, and he could count on one hand the number of times that Chris had actually gotten genuinely angry.

“Fuckin’ pineapple fight.” Chris looked down and grit his teeth, just a little bit. “The first time I blacked out from drinking, and god I hope it was the last time I’ll ever need to get stitches while in Mexico.” Chris didn’t remember anything at all from the night of the infamous pineapple fight, but he knew it had something to do with the restaurant throwing out a couple of cases of pineapples that were about to spoil, and Justin’s girlfriend at the time pushing a guy into the pool. That was all anyone was able to tell him the next morning when he woke up with major facial bruising and a gash along his jawline below his left ear. His fingers reflexively reached up and ran along the scar.

“Yeah, I remember it though. Why?” Tyler brought the conversation to the topic at hand.

“For that week, I can say without a shadow of a doubt, you were ambitious.” Chris remembered being in awe of Tyler at one point, when he had actually figured out who had started the fire. “I was terrified when you convinced the cops to let us solve the mystery, and blown away when you actually did it.”

“With a working knowledge of one hundred and nine words of Spanish.” Tyler’s smile was growing ever wider. “I still can’t believe it was the housekeeper. Esmerelda was such a nice woman too.”

“That was one week when I knew you were ambitious.” Tyler’s smile faded at the comment. Chris went on, and Tyler’s face grew more distant. “We’ve gone out, what, a dozen times for happy hour over the past year? I think there was maybe once when you didn’t spend the first thirty minutes just bitching about your job.”

Chris let his statement sink in for a few seconds before going on. “It’s nothing against you, dude. I think that this job just wasn’t for you. So who gives a fuck what some toolbag HR rep says on some report. Do you want to keep living like you hate your job, or do you want to wake up tomorrow and actually enjoy yourself?” Tyler still sat in silence, so Chris finished what he had to say. “You’re a pretty awesome guy, Ty. But everyone sucks when they hate what they’re doing.” Chris remembered himself what he was like when he had gotten an office job for two weeks. He had lost ten pounds and was constantly on edge.

Tyler continued to sit in silence, sipping on his vodka until the bottle was empty. He tossed it nonchalantly through the open break room door and into the hallway, where it landed with a loud thud, the carpet keeping the bottle from shattering. Chris could see Tyler’s eyes locked in the faraway place. The place where a person measures what they think of themselves, who they are in their own eyes.

The argument in the other corner of the room rose up once again. “Well, clearly we don’t have to worry about government conspiracies now!” Jessica was shouting, Justin looked as though he was brooding at the moment. Tyler let out a loud belch and addressed the entire room with a question.

“Who cares?” The question hung in the air, clearing out the clutter of words from the previous argument and leaving a wake of silence. “Seriously, who cares what happened. Or why it happened or how it happened.” The final two statements, broke the silence.

“I care.” Justin had a concerned look on his face. “I want to know what happened. I know nobody has wanted to talk about this yet, but what about our families? I know we checked on Scott’s family, but what about ours? What if they’re, dead, or zombies or whatever? I want to know, for sure. Even if there’s nothing we can do about it.”

This didn’t surprise Chris. Justin, ever the sentimental one.

“Want to make sure Beth is safe too? Beth and her friend with the big penis, whatever his name was?” Tyler said, determined to keep the conversation focused.

“Jeremy.” Chris spoke softly, trying to take the edge off of Tyler’s attack. “I don’t think it’s a bad idea to try to find out what happened to our families. My parents are still in Edgemont, it’s about an hour into Iowa. My brother is out in Washington, so it doesn’t seem very likely we’d be able to find out about him anytime soon.”

The room fell silent for ten long seconds, as everyone thought about their respective loved ones. Tyler, was taking a long, hard drink out of a bottle of gin he had pulled from the box Amy had brought. Chris saw it first, as he was sitting closest. The others turned to look when Tyler made a grunt of disgust as he took it away from his lips.

After this sound, Tyler asked the question that would set the course of everything they would do.  The question he had been pondering subconsciously for the last few months, and actively thinking about since his one sided battle with the filing cabinet.

“Is anyone else pissed off with what they have to show for the last five years of their life?”

It took Scott about five minutes to find the maintenance access to the rooftop. Amy followed him there, but gave him a few minutes before joining him. When she reached him, he was sitting down on the tar rooftop, tears streaming down his face.

“Mind if I join you?” she said softly as she approached, not wanting to surprise him.

“Whatever.” Scott mumbled, almost to himself, before he actually spoke up. “What do you want?”

The question was meant to stump her, or make her feel uncomfortable, but Amy knew that this anger wasn’t for her, she just happened to be the only thing he could target at the moment.

“I want to help.” Amy sat down next to him on the warm rooftop, looking out over the neighborhood. The height of the building, combined with the vodka acting on her brain, she felt the world tipping a little bit. She was glad that she was sitting.

There were street lights lit up and down the street, but beyond this, there weren’t too many other lights. Nearby storefronts and apartment buildings, normally completely lit up at this time of the evening, were dark. Amy felt a shiver when she imagined what was hiding in all those shadows.

So much blood.

“You want to tell me what’s making you cry, or do I have to guess?” Scott gave a sarcastic chuckle at the question, but gave no other response. Amy waited for a moment before continuing. “So, you’re clearly upset. I’m guessing it has something to do with this whole apocalypse thing we’ve got going on.” Amy let her statement hang awkwardly in the air, hoping that remaining patient would lead to him speaking up, but he just stared, through his tears, at the silent city below them.

“You thinking about your family?” Amy asked the question, because it was what she had been trying to keep from thinking about all day. She tried to keep her voice steady, but it started to break when she continued. “Worrying about...where they are right now?” She expected Scott’s response, but it still didn’t take the sting away.

“Worrying about what they are right now?” Scott repeated the question in anger, and Amy couldn’t blame him.

Whatever had happened, seemed to have happened everywhere, to everyone, with only minor exceptions at this point. After they had tried the fire station, Amy tried calling every single living person she was still related to. When that failed, she called every number she still had saved in her phone.

Nothing but voicemails.

Amy remembered the pain and frustration she felt as she moved down the list of friends, through the alphabet, one number down, one more hope down. The memory of those letdowns wore on her nerves. She felt her eyes begin to sting with tears. She tried to squeeze them away, but the weight of the day was beginning to press down on her chest.

One more call, one more voicemail. Jessica had been in the passenger seat, freaking out the entire time.

Scott looked over at her, a hint of sarcasm on his face. Amy told herself to let it go, everyone had been through a lot. Breaking a bottle over his head wouldn’t solve anything. At this point, nothing would solve anything.

One thing left to do.

Amy felt the tears welling up even further, she was close to breaking down, and she knew it. “Well, if you’re just going to sit here and be a dick to anyone who tries to help you, you’ll have to excuse me.” Scott’s sarcastic look vanished.

He doesn’t want to be alone up here.

“Please don’t leave. I’m sorry.” Soft tears still ran down his face.

Would he ever stop crying? Shit. no time left.

“If I’m going to stay up here, you’ll have to excuse my behavior.” Amy got out the statement, as she felt her chest cave in from the emotional pressure of the day. She took a long drag off the vodka. Felt it hit the emotional fire that was exploding in her chest, and began to scream.

****

Scott wasn’t sure how to interpret what was happening at first. This girl that he had just met, the one who had barely said a word at dinner, had come up with him on the roof to try to console him. He hadn’t really wanted to be consoled, so he spurned her. He just wanted to be left alone.

She had been on the verge of crying, almost from the start. Scott couldn’t blame her, not if she had been thinking about the scope of what they were all dealing with. She had been about to break down, then she chugged some vodka and started screaming.

The scream started quiet and high pitched at first, like a squeal. Then it kept going, getting louder and lower, as if she was in pain. Tears ran down her face as her face began turning red. She must have screamed for a good twenty seconds before she stopped suddenly, gasping for breath. It was all so surprising that it caused him to stop crying.

Somewhere during her scream, Amy fell to her knees. Scott was nervous to approach her. He had never seen such an outcry of emotion, and never would expect it to be possible from such a small, unassuming girl. Despite his nerves, he stepped forward and spoke.

“Are...are you okay?” Amy took a few deep breaths before speaking up.

“Almost...one more oughta do it.” With that, she took another long pull from the bottle of vodka and let out another scream. This one was shorter by at least half, but it seemed to have just as much emotion as the previous one. Scott felt his nerves fray a little more, but he still waited, giving Amy almost thirty seconds after she had fallen silent.

“So...what was that?”

“That’s how we Irish deal with loss.”

“By shouting?”

“Keening, actually.” Scott thought he had heard the phrase before, but he hadn’t known what it meant, up until now.

Scott was surprised when Amy finally looked up at him. Her eyes looked different. There was a glint in there that he hadn’t seen a minute ago.

“Makes your voice a little bit horse, or maybe that’s the vodka.” Amy shrugged before continuing. “It helps get that pressure off the chest though.”

Scott suddenly realized the weight that had been on his chest for the last seven hours. The weight that knocked him off his feet when he saw his aunt and uncle turned into those things, it was suddenly back. Somehow Amy could see this pain in his eyes, could see the weight he was carrying around with him. She offered up the bottle, a warm smile peering up at him.

“Just give it a try, you’d be surprised how it feels.” Scott took the bottle and sniffed it. The vodka was an expensive brand, he could barely detect the alcohol. He took a deep breath and put the bottle to his lips, tipping his head back and drinking deeply.

The vodka didn’t burn until his third swallow, when he had to make himself stop. Pulling the bottle away from his lips with a gasp, it took him a few deep breaths to catch up to himself. There was only a moment of silence before Amy spoke up.

“You forgot to wail.” Scott could already feel the vodka spreading warmth throughout his body.

“I don’t really want to.”

“But that’s the therapeutic part. Otherwise it’s just drinking hard liquor. It’s really easy, just like shouting, except with more emotion.” Scott had shouted a few times at sporting events and concerts, but otherwise he had led a shout free existence. He didn’t think he really knew how to do it on command, much less do it with emotion. Scott looked up at Amy as he spoke.

“I just don’t want to.” Amy’s eyes were glossy with tears, but at the same time Scott felt like she was staring right through him, she had so much empathy in those eyes.

“You are just wound up tighter than a drum, huh?”

“Excuse me?”

“Try it. You don’t have to be nervous.”

Scott wanted to go back downstairs. He wasn’t even sure why he had come up here now. It was clear that this girl was dealing with everything that had happened better than he had. He was about to get up to walk back around to the door that led downstairs, when Amy spoke up again.

             
“We’ll leave, if you don’t do this.”

             
“What?”

             
“I’ll take Jessica and go. Your friends seem nice enough, but if you’re too scared to let your pain go, then how can I put our lives in your hands?” The question took a moment for Scott to process, and then it stung.

             
“You think I’m a coward?”

             
“If the shoe fits…”

             
“Just because I won’t scream.”

             
“Yup.”

             
Scott was so frustrated at this, that he was even more resolved to go back downstairs, when Amy spoke again.

             
“I don’t know what is going on. All I know is that I have seen some really shitty things in the last twelve hours, and I’m sure there’s more to come. If I can’t talk to someone, I mean really communicate with someone about these things, then I’m going to lose it.”

             
Scott paused, remembering the vacant look in his uncle’s eyes. Empty, but still hungry.

             
“Please. Let go. Stop trying to pretend that you’ve got it all together. The world has gone to shit, there’s not many people left to mourn that with me.”

             
Scott looked back at the now mostly empty bottle of vodka in his hands. He squeezed the neck of the bottle in his hand, feeling the solid glass. After taking another long pull, he let out a scream.

             
Maybe it wasn’t so much a scream, as a yell. It started out as a squelch really. A squelch of pain at the burning sensation from the vodka, but it grew from there. Tapping into the pain from the vodka, he was able to access other pains, from deeper inside. He felt himself getting lost in the yell, as his pain took it over. He yelled long and hard, until his breath ran out and his throat felt dry and raspy.

             
Scott breathed heavily, tears creeping put through his closed eyes. The weight on his chest seemed to be a little lighter. After what felt like a long time, he opened his eyes and looked over at Amy. She had an expression of warm empathy on her face.

             
“Feel a little better.” The statement could have been a question, but it wasn’t. Scott felt his head nod in agreement.

             
“That was a big one. You must have had a lot to get out.” Scott nodded again, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt the fingers of the vodka begin to dance across his brain, muffling his senses.

             
“You wanna let out another one?” Amy said with a bright note in her voice. Scott shook his head slowly. He felt fuzzy. There was the warm sensation of the vodka, along with a strange sensation he was not familiar with, it was as though weight had been lifted from his entire body. It wasn’t just the weight on his chest from earlier today, he felt lighter in general.

             
“You want to wait here a little longer, or go downstairs?”

             
Scott still couldn’t speak, or at least he didn’t want to. In answer, he gestured with his head towards the door that would lead them back into the building.

             
Standing up, he felt the full rush of the vodka, causing him to stumble. Amy steadied him.

             
“I don’t know much about you boys, but you sure know how to drink.”

             
With that, the two new friends walked across the warm tar rooftop and back down the stairs.

****

Scott and Amy had been gone for about a half hour before they returned. Justin was a little surprised to see that it looked like they had both been crying. Judging by the way Scott was walking, it looked like they had also done a fair amount of drinking.

While they were gone, and after Tyler’s outburst, Justin and Jessica had chatted while cleaning up after dinner. They had left much of the leftovers out, just in case anyone was hungry later. The rest was thrown in the break room garbage. While they did this, Chris and Tyler had each gone wandering the floor, searching for additional booze, but also just to kill some time and clear their heads.

Eventually, to get away from the kitchen, everyone ended up meeting in the boardroom. The boardroom took up a corner office space, windows on two walls gave a decent view of the surrounding neighborhood, which was now in full darkness. The highway, which stood just over a half mile away, would normally be alight with traffic at this time of the evening, late rush hour. Instead it was empty, a dark shadow in the distance.

“So we should figure out our next steps.” Justin heard himself say. After he and Jessica had debated over the last half hour what they thought might have caused this to happen, they  still couldn’t come up with a single theory that would fit snug enough. “We obviously have a few choices to make, and it’s only fair if we make them as a group.”

“We could go out and look for other survivors,” Jessica offered. “One of them might know what’s going on. What caused all of this.” Justin waited for a moment, just to give anyone a chance to speak up, if they should want to. Nobody did. Scott and Amy looked detached, staring out the window at the motionless city. Chris and Tyler were sipping quietly from glasses of some scotch that one of them had found in Tyler’s boss’s boss’s office, or something like that.