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Authors: Nicholas Antinozzi
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asshole,” Ken said. “We’re taking it with us.”
Jimmy took one of the old steel cans and nodded his head. He was surprised for a second by Ken’s decision, but the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. Ken began dumping a liberal amount of gasoline onto the floor of the shed and made a trail that led to the back door of the house. They worked quickly and quietly in the blackness of the silent house. The fumes made Jimmy’s eyes water, and he tried not to breathe through his nose. They met out on the porch, each having enough fuel left to make a trail that stretched down the deck, down the concrete stairs, and down to where the vehicles were parked. They dropped their cans as Ken clapped Jimmy on the shoulder.
“Wait for me to get around the corner,” Ken said, wiping a tear from his cheek. “I don’t want to see this.”
“I understand,” Jimmy said, nodding his head.
Ken turned away, and a moment later the Tahoe was running and out the gate. Julie joined Jimmy out in the gasoline fumes, saying nothing as she put her arm on his shoulder.
“I’m going to miss this place,” Jimmy said, pulling his lighter from the front pocket of his jeans.
“Me, too,” Julie said. “Come on. Let’s get this over with. I don’t trust our neighbors.”
Jimmy leaned down and thumbed his lighter. Bright yellow light flashed, and flames licked up in his face. Jimmy jumped back and watched as the flames raced away from them, up the driveway and nimbly climbing the stairs. Julie hooked Jimmy’s arm and steered him toward the Mack. They climbed inside as orange light blazed behind them. The entire house was engulfed in roaring flames before Jimmy had even cleared the gate. The fire lit up the night sky as small explosions rumbled behind them. Jimmy had never intentionally burned anything before, and he was shocked at how quickly the fire had spread. They met Ken and the others waiting inside the Tahoe at the corner. Even from this distance, the fire was so bright that it made headlights unnecessary.
And then Ken tooted his horn, as if saying good-bye to an old friend. Jimmy did the same, and they drove away from their refuge for the very last time.
Chapter 8
"The only thing we have to fear is fear itself –nameless, unreasoning, unjustified, terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance." ~ Franklin Delano Roosevelt
They drove in silence for ten minutes, each lost in their own thoughts and fears as they followed the taillights of Ken’s Tahoe into the unknown. Ken had been adamant about keeping the fuel tanks on both vehicles full and using additives to keep the fuel from going bad, which at the time had seemed to Jimmy like busywork; he had not expected things to end this way.
“I hated her,” Julie said, turning in her seat to face Jimmy. “And I’m glad that she’s dead.”
Jimmy looked at Julie for a second and returned his attention to the road. He didn’t like where this conversation was headed, and he was still processing what had happened that night. He had been deeply in love with Paula for a long time, despite all her faults. They passed a small house just off the road, its windows glowing with amber light. Civilization was returning, and Jimmy was unsure how he felt about that.
“Are you glad that she’s dead?”
Again, Jimmy looked at Julie and said nothing. He didn’t know what to say.
“You hated her, didn’t you?”
“Don’t do this, Julie. I’m not dancing on Paula’s grave, all right? You didn’t see her body.”
“Oh, yes I did. And it made me feel good to see what Doc had done. She deserved it. She was a low-life bitch, Jimmy. I can’t believe you were engaged to her.”
“Stop it.”
“I can’t believe it. You’re actually sad that she’s dead, aren’t you?”
Jimmy took his right hand off the wheel and pointed his index finger at Julie. “Don’t ever tell me how I’m supposed to feel. You have no right to do that to me.
Jimmy took one of the old steel cans and nodded his head. He was surprised for a second by Ken’s decision, but the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. Ken began dumping a liberal amount of gasoline onto the floor of the shed and made a trail that led to the back door of the house. They worked quickly and quietly in the blackness of the silent house. The fumes made Jimmy’s eyes water, and he tried not to breathe through his nose. They met out on the porch, each having enough fuel left to make a trail that stretched down the deck, down the concrete stairs, and down to where the vehicles were parked. They dropped their cans as Ken clapped Jimmy on the shoulder.
“Wait for me to get around the corner,” Ken said, wiping a tear from his cheek. “I don’t want to see this.”
“I understand,” Jimmy said, nodding his head.
Ken turned away, and a moment later the Tahoe was running and out the gate. Julie joined Jimmy out in the gasoline fumes, saying nothing as she put her arm on his shoulder.
“I’m going to miss this place,” Jimmy said, pulling his lighter from the front pocket of his jeans.
“Me, too,” Julie said. “Come on. Let’s get this over with. I don’t trust our neighbors.”
Jimmy leaned down and thumbed his lighter. Bright yellow light flashed, and flames licked up in his face. Jimmy jumped back and watched as the flames raced away from them, up the driveway and nimbly climbing the stairs. Julie hooked Jimmy’s arm and steered him toward the Mack. They climbed inside as orange light blazed behind them. The entire house was engulfed in roaring flames before Jimmy had even cleared the gate. The fire lit up the night sky as small explosions rumbled behind them. Jimmy had never intentionally burned anything before, and he was shocked at how quickly the fire had spread. They met Ken and the others waiting inside the Tahoe at the corner. Even from this distance, the fire was so bright that it made headlights unnecessary.
And then Ken tooted his horn, as if saying good-bye to an old friend. Jimmy did the same, and they drove away from their refuge for the very last time.
Chapter 8
"The only thing we have to fear is fear itself –nameless, unreasoning, unjustified, terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance." ~ Franklin Delano Roosevelt
They drove in silence for ten minutes, each lost in their own thoughts and fears as they followed the taillights of Ken’s Tahoe into the unknown. Ken had been adamant about keeping the fuel tanks on both vehicles full and using additives to keep the fuel from going bad, which at the time had seemed to Jimmy like busywork; he had not expected things to end this way.
“I hated her,” Julie said, turning in her seat to face Jimmy. “And I’m glad that she’s dead.”
Jimmy looked at Julie for a second and returned his attention to the road. He didn’t like where this conversation was headed, and he was still processing what had happened that night. He had been deeply in love with Paula for a long time, despite all her faults. They passed a small house just off the road, its windows glowing with amber light. Civilization was returning, and Jimmy was unsure how he felt about that.
“Are you glad that she’s dead?”
Again, Jimmy looked at Julie and said nothing. He didn’t know what to say.
“You hated her, didn’t you?”
“Don’t do this, Julie. I’m not dancing on Paula’s grave, all right? You didn’t see her body.”
“Oh, yes I did. And it made me feel good to see what Doc had done. She deserved it. She was a low-life bitch, Jimmy. I can’t believe you were engaged to her.”
“Stop it.”
“I can’t believe it. You’re actually sad that she’s dead, aren’t you?”
Jimmy took his right hand off the wheel and pointed his index finger at Julie. “Don’t ever tell me how I’m supposed to feel. You have no right to do that to me.
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