Pick Up
by Simon Scott

Scott laughed at the cackling bacon sitting in the pan. One of the few delicacies he picked up in the dreaded town of Crescent, the frozen meat danced and sang an unharmonious tune. Kelly giggled along with him, staring at the grease surrounding the meat. He sniffed the air, catching a whiff of that wonderful cooking meat scent that all carnivores crave. She sprawled out on her mat, wrapping her sleeping bag tighter around her tough shoulders. Scott stopped laughing and looked up at the stars overhead. They were familiar and like family, only changing a little bit each night but always giving him the same sky to marvel at.

Kelly grabbed the pan sitting over their well made fire and dripped grease over the edge. Little licks of flame danced along the air where the fat caught fire, reminding Scott of his mother, and the way they used to cook marshmallows around the campfire at South Twin Lake. He felt sad to remember such a thing.

"You think she's still alive, Scott?" Kelly asked as she poured the rest of the grease into a coffee container.

"What?" He sat up, his sleeping bag falling off his chest revealing bare skin. Scott made no attempt to cover up.

"Her." Kelly answered, pointing to the torn picture in Scott's hands.

"Oh. You know, I didn't even realize I had this out. Huh." Scott looked at the faded picture, unable to hold back the small smile. The girl in the picture had short blonde hair. Kelly had long, beautifully straight brunette hair.

"Is she really going to be there?" Kelly asked.

"I don't know. It's funny; we always said that if something serious ever happened and the world ended we'd meet back in Bend. I considered nuclear holocaust a joke. Guess I was a little naïve."

Scott put the picture back in his wallet.

"Well, from everything you told me, she's definitely worth it, and I hope we find her."

Kelly smiled comfortably, splitting the four pieces of bacon between two paper plates.

"Kelly, what are you doing here? Going to a place you've only been once and might never see the same again? Why me?" Scott took his plate from her as she settled herself back in her sleeping bag. He took notice of her fleece pajamas and skin tight tank top, revealing a very well taken care of body.

"This may sound cliché, but it seemed like the best thing to do at the time." Kelly said, unaware that she too gazed across at Scott's less than perfect build. He had a scar right below the bandage on his shoulder. "How'd you get that scar?"

"Way to change the subject." Scott shook his head.

"I'm not. I was just curious."

"Hunting accident," Scott replied, covering up, "now can we get back to my question?"

"Sure thing. I know you're going to hate me for saying this, but you were the only one doing anything when this all started, and I figured you knew more than most people. I don't know if you remember, but after the explosion, we were one of the few people driving on the road."

"Yeah, I do remember." Scott said, chewing on a piece of bacon.

"You have been a new friend to me, and I figured that's a guy who's got most of his shit together. As an independent woman, I'd like to think I could have left your ass and taken the road by myself. As a human being, I wouldn't have survived one day without help. I'm just glad it's you." Kelly smiled affectionately at Scott, who shied away.

"I'm going to bed, but thank you. I appreciate it." He rolled over with his bare back to the fire.

She cursed herself under her breath for being so attracted to him in that moment. The fiery feminist inside her wanted to kick her own ass, but decided that it was probably a little counterproductive. Her hand cradled the fat man's rifle as she slipped into a deep sleep with slightly twisted dreams.

It happened more as they continued to travel north.

They walked side by side, entering the revealing daylight afforded by the open fields on either side of the highway. The wild grass stretched on both sides, ending about two miles in either direction. Scott eyed the tree line while he pulled the wagon carrying his pack, his grip tightening upon the large hunting knife he acquired from the frightful store with the rotting woman inside. He looked at the shiny object and remembered what he told Kelly about the deer antler he once carried. He told her he broke it on something in the store. At least he didn't lie to her.

Strange whoops and hollers echoed off the sporadic wind as they walked closer to the main stretch of La Pine. They could not see anyone, but every once in a while a raucous commotion, like the end of a football game, could be heard. Scott thought that the hillbillies started their drinking games a little too early in the day, but felt a slight comfort now that Kelly had the rifle. He himself would not touch the weapon, for fear of breaking his promise.

Kelly pulled the bolt on her weapon and checked the ammunition rested. She slammed it home, chambering a round while keeping the safety on. They passed a few buildings with no lights, open windows, or any sign of people inside. Scott remembered the yelling as they approached and kept a watchful eye. The silence caused Kelly to start twitching, rattling a small zipper on her red sweatshirt.

The two of them passed through most of the deceiving town without incident. They passed building after building with eyes unseen behind disgusting curtains or rotting doorways. Scott's wagon continued to squeak every once in a while, making them jump.

"Kelly, I hate to do this, but I really have to pee." Scott dropped the handle of the wagon and rushed to the side of the road.

"Can't you wait until we're out of here?" Kelly flashed her eyes back and forth.

"Not unless you want to be walking with a smelly bastard." Scott unzipped his fly and let loose, arching his head and smiling ecstatically.

"Jesus Christ." Kelly half mumbled.

"What?" Scott looked over his shoulder, his smile quickly disappearing. "Oh shit! Kelly!"

Kelly whipped around, brought the butt of the rifle into her shoulder, and pulled the trigger as soon as the oncoming figure came into her sights. The bullet hit the disgusting individual right between two oozing sores on his forehead. Brain and skull exploded from the exit wound as his eyes stared blankly forward, and his body crumpled to the asphalt. Scott zipped up his pants and pulled his knife from its sheath.

The town suddenly exploded with people. They emerged from stores, behind buildings, and from around trees. All of them suffered from radiation poisoning neither Scott nor Kelly wished to endure. The crazed people rushed at them, their mouths foaming with saliva, puss running all over their bodies, and their eyes alive with a feral instinct. They spoke in gibberish as they ran, but they apparently understood each other. Some carried makeshift weapons, a rock or a spear, and Kelly began picking those off first. Scott could feel his heart pound in his chest to the beat of the gunfire. Anytime one of the rads got close enough to their ground, Scott whirled into action, hacking and stabbing until the lunatic no longer twitched.

A rock sailed through the air and crushed Kelly's right hand as she pulled the trigger on another attacker. She tossed the gun amongst the dead and wounded around their decreasing perimeter. Her howls brought Scott's attention around from stabbing another rad. He ran over and took a look, but Kelly impatiently pointed at the gun.

"Grab it Scott, Jesus, don't worry about me," she hollered over the silence.

Scott shuffled uncomfortably between the bodies and looked down at the gun. More of the terrible attackers rushed from all around them, running as fast as they could with wild eyes and drool flying from their mouths. He stared down at the gun, goose bumps rippling across his arms. Old sensations rang across his fingers that wanted to place themselves upon the hardwood and hot steel. His eyes traced the length of the shiny, blue barrel, marveling at its sexy sheen.

"Scott, pick up that fucking gun or we both die!" Kelly screamed, still sitting on the ground as a rad ran up and began choking her.

Scott grabbed the rifle and swung it up into his shoulder, feeling comfortable and satisfied. He whirled and shot on the fly; hitting the crazy man in the back and making him cough up a storm of his own blood. His boy flowed smoothly around their defensive circle, picking of one after another of the onrushing fiends. Each rad met its end with a bullet either in the head or the chest, knocking them to the ground or flying backwards. Kelly watched Scott continue to shoot accurately and quickly.

The vibrations from the stock of the rifle in his shoulder resonated throughout his bones. They echoed in his head and sent his memory back to that week when he was ten-years old. Small imperfections in the wood reminded him of the rifle his father bought for his only son. Scott pulled on the bolt and relished the smooth action, bringing forth the teachings of his father in the cold dark places of the forest. Squeezing the trigger reminded him of how hard his body felt when he shot the man neither his father nor him had ever seen before. As each rad approached, they had the same fiery anger the man he'd shot in the forest had when he shot the young boy with a pistol.

A final brave invalid came running from the nearest gas station, a good eighty yards away. Scott sighted the man and put a bullet in his chest, making the pour soul tumble along the roadway like a mannequin. He slowly lowered the rifle and looked at the dead bodies surrounding the two of them. Kelly's chest heaved, her breasts rising and falling at an alarming rate. She looked at Scott with admiration that changed as her brow came down and her smile faded.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She quietly said.

"Tell you what?"

"That you could shoot like that, Scott. Jesus Christ, why didn't you tell me?" Kelly did not hide her frustration.

"Because I didn't think it was that important, and I haven't shot a gun since I was a kid. Besides, what does it matter?" Scott casually mentioned, walking to Kelly and examining her hand.

"It matters because we could have been killed Scott!" Her voice was near yelling as she slipped her hand away.

"Kelly, I think you're overreacting a little bit." Scott set the rifle down and backed away, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Overreacting? You're goddamn right, I'm overreacting. This whole time you wouldn't touch that rifle, and I just thought you didn't know how to shoot. Well thanks to your little secret my hand could be broken, and we could have been killed." Kelly finally started screaming.

"But we didn't die, and I highly doubt your hand is broken." Scott replied.

"Nope, we didn't die. And I bet you'll probably still refuse to carry the rifle or even shoot it until I've passed and gone. Some humanitarian you are." Kelly began wrapping her hand carefully with a piece of cardboard and gauze bandage.

"See this, Kelly?" Scott's face turned red as he approached one of the rads laying close by. "This is a human being. See the ring on this guy's finger? It means he was fucking married! I just murdered a husband. Maybe that woman over there is a mother. I just orphaned a couple of kids. Forgive me if I don't share your appreciation of our situation. I don't like killing people." Scott dropped the dead man's arm, the wedding ring falling off and tinkling on the asphalt.

"Then why even bother . . . ."

"Because I fucking had to. Because if I didn't we'd be dead. Because my entire life has gone to Hell, and I don't know which way is up anymore. Tell you what. You want me to carry the rifle? I'll carry the fucking rifle. You want me to kill more people? I'll kill more people. But for God's sakes, don't ask me to justify it!" Scott screamed back at her picking up the rifle and reloading it. Kelly glared up at him.

From the forest came a torrent of horrible screams. Scott liked them as much as the sound of breaking Styrofoam. Both he and Kelly looked in the direction of the nearby calls, their faces no longer rigid with anger but fear. Scott helped Kelly up, grabbed the backpack off his wagon and tried to put it on. His shoulder ached and burned as the strap slid across his bandage. He put it back in the wagon and dragged it as fast as he could over the corpses. Strange gassy noises escaped from the blistered bodies with bloodshot eyes, making the two of them hurry along.

Scott and Kelly did not speak for quite some time. She walked near him, arms crossed tightly across her chest.