Read Online AFTER by Ronald Kelly - Free Book Online Page B

valley with a stream winding through the center. It was a beautiful place, the sort you see in nature documentaries or on the pages of calendars.
    Phyllis took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Just finding Compadre and eating the squirrel had lifted her spirits tremendously. She exhaled and instantly launched into a fit of violent coughing. She put her hand to her mouth and it came away covered with bloody spittle. That scared her… the same way the blotchy discolorment of her skin and a couple of ulcerated sores on her arms and hands did. If radiation was killing the plants, then naturally it was working on her as well. But Phyllis didn't want to think about that now. All she wanted to think about was making it past Washington and New York, and getting home to Art and Sandy.
    The two hiked along the creek for nearly an hour. Phyllis filled up her water bottle, despite a couple of dead fish she saw bobbing in the current.
    There was no getting around it; she had to have water to survive. Onward they trekked as the blistering sun began to drop to the west. The ugly brown sky altered into unnatural shades of purple and crimson as twilight began to settle.
    Phyllis was beginning to worry about where they would camp for the night, when Compadre lunged forward, barking. Frightened, she picked her way through kudzu and blackberry bramble, trying to keep up with him. She certainly didn't want to lose the dog now, after having just found him.
    When she finally made it through the thicket, she found him sitting on his haunches, waiting for her in front of a little graywood shack with a rusty tin roof. The structure looked as though it hadn't been lived in for years. The door hung partially off its hinges and the glass of the windows was completely gone.
    "Well, it's not the Waldorf Astoria, but I suppose it'll be a roof over our heads," Phyllis said. Tentatively, she stepped past the sagging door and entered the structure. She took a small flashlight from the knapsack – not a leftover from the backpack's previous owner, but her own. Phyllis had a bladder problem and it was handy for helping find the bathroom at night, especially if she was in some strange place away from home.
    The interior of the little shack stank of dank earth, cigarette smoke, and urine. Evidence of several small campfires could be seen on the shed's dirt floor. Apparently, this had become a way station of sorts for travelers and transients. Against a far wall stood the metal frame of a twin bed with a mildewed mattress within its cradle. On the other side of the room were a small table and one rusty folding chair.
    "Like I said before, it's not five-star accommodations, but it'll have to do."
    Phyllis tossed her backpack on the bed and looked around, rubbing her hands. She was more than a little compulsive about cleanliness and the nasty state of the shack made her skin crawl. Again she reached into the pack and, this time, withdrew a lavender aroma-therapy candle – again one of her home-away-from-home items – and, placing it on the tabletop, lit the wick. It didn't cast much light, but it was enough to give a clearer – and more dismal – picture of her surroundings. "Well, we can do better than this."
    For the next hour, Phyllis went about the almost impossible task of tidying up the shed. She tossed much of the debris – empty soda cans, food packages, and even a used condom or two – out the back window. Then she rearranged the furniture a bit to suit her needs. "Hmmm, not bad," she said to herself. "Not bad at all."
    Night descended and, for a while, Phyllis simply sat in the folding chair, staring at the flicker of the candle and trying to avoid the darkness beyond the windows and open doorway. She had attempted to straighten the door earlier, but it had threatened to fall off entirely, so she had left it alone. Compadre lay at her feet, his head on his paws, looking bored.
    Phyllis's stomach grumbled. "Another squirrel would sure be nice right