Still (yes, still) October 8th

Over a breakfast of dry cereal and SPAM, Michael described his escape.

"First of all, I didn't think it'd take me so long to get to you two." He wolfed down more canned meat and went on. "After you two escaped, Peter grabbed the knife. He got it before I could, but I tackled him. I held him down before realizing he wasn't moving. When I flipped him over, I saw the knife had been shoved into---" he stopped chewing, the fork dropping into the can with a tiny clang, "---his face. His face...I've never killed anyone before."

"You had to do it. It's okay, Michael,"Louise said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

He wiped his eyes. "I wanted to run after you two...but my stomach hurt like hell."

At that, I studied the gaping hole in his t-shirt. Dried blood stained the fabric, but he seemed okay. Part of me didn't need to hear anymore. Another part stayed to listen to the rest.

"I wanted to gather all the supplies I could. I made myself rest, and later, I emptied out His house. There wasn't much food, but there was other things, like guns." His foot tapped lightly against the two duffle bags on the floor. "Then I get here and Louise almost kills me."

"I thought you were a creature, or Him," she said, face streaked with red splotches.

"I'm glad to know you can defend yourself if need be."

His tone wasn't demeaning, but the words made Louise balk.

"If need be? After the world ends, there's no room for a damsel in distress, shithead."

They both smiled and looked at each other in a way my parents had plenty of times before. They didn't kiss (they hadn't made up that far, I guess), but I could tell they wanted to. Yuck.

"What about you? Are you okay?"

At Louise's question, Michael lifted his shirt. A patch of gauze covered a hole in his stomach.

"Cleaned it best I could. I don't think he hit anything major."

Louise scoffed. "How do you know that?"

"Cause I'm still alive."

~*~

October 9h

Generator.

That's gosh darn right.

A fubbing bona-fide GENERATOR!

And not just one, but two.

Michael told me he checked the perimeter of the house today, and kept noticing these two metal and plastic-box-doohickeys. At first, he mistook them for air conditioners. After a closer look, he saw the words, "Starport Batteries" engraved on them. That excited him, but not much, 'cause he couldn't figure out what the bastards were hooked up to. That's the best part, though. They're hooked to solar panels! They led to panels on the roof. Michael switched the ON buttons to see what would happen. Louise and I weren't aware of what he'd done, and we were surprised at the results.

I was pooping in the bathroom, (the one with the big window, so I didn't have to lug a flashlight with me) when the frickin' light came on.

Blinking and seeing spots, I heard squeals from the kitchen. Louise ran to spread the good news I'd learned about firsthand while on the toilet.

"We have light! We have goddamn power!"

She seemed unconcerned about the laws of privacy with me sitting on the toilet, pants down, my shit smell staining the air.

Still, I smiled. It was a great moment, an smell included. Louise smiled back at me, and then hurried back to the kitchen.

Seeing as how the generators are solar powered, Louise suggested we all watch a movie together in the den.

"You pick the movie," she told me. "But no 'R' rated ones."

Heck, I didn't care. I would watch 'G' rated. Just to be able to watch a movie, and feel normal again....The shelves near the television hutch shared an endless display of movies. Picking one wasn't easy. Remembering Louise's stipulation, I settled on The Labyrinth. I hadn't seen it before, and the girl on the back cover reminded me of Ashley Heard.

"Ooohh, good choice," Louise said.

"Oh God, not David Bowie."

It sounded like Michael was complaining, but he had a huge grin.

Louise handed me the disc. "Put it in!"

I pushed the movie in the player with my heart beating fast. I expected the disc not to play. If it hadn't, I would have been sad, but not surprised. Sadness, disappointment, and death are my constants. When the familiar FBI warning lit up the 52-inch screen, my heart expanded.

I settled on the couch between Louise and Michael. They smelled like soap, and I did too. Smelling good is another new (but really old) concept to us.

From the beginning, I was entranced by the movie and the characters. Although, I would have been happy with any movie, given my deprived state. As the movie progressed, the lead character's hair began to bother me. It was a long, dark, shining curtain, like Ashley Heard's had been.

Tears clogged my throat, and I tried to push them back down. Then I thought of Ashley and where she could be. Was she in hiding, safe like me? Was she dead? I would never know the answer. I would never see her again. My first love, and possibly my only love in this barren hell was gone from my life forever.

All I had were pseudo-parents in Louise and Michael, and they barely tolerated one another at times.

Grief overcame me and I turned to Louise. She saw my face and took me into her arms without asking why it was necessary. I cried into her shoulder. She shushed me, patted my back, and assured me everything would be all right.

Even if Louise and Michael didn't know why I was bawling like a baby, I think they understood my need. I cried for the three of us.

~*~