Your Table Is Reeady

Submitted into Contest #60 in response to: Write a post-apocalyptic romance.... view prompt

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Romance

Your Table Is Ready

HER

She’s thrilled to be out to dinner with him. He dressed up. She smiles and tries to say all the right things. He seems okay. She talks about her sister’s party next weekend. He excuses himself from their little linen-covered table. She looks around at all the chatting couples. He takes too long. She looks at the food now left on the table. He does another shot with his new best friend at the bar. She apologizes to the waiter, again. He laughs as his new friend shares another story, his arm finding a sticky mess left on the bar. She thinks of all the “wrongs” he’s done to her. He decides he better get back to the table. She heads for the exit. He calls out her name. She looks over her shoulder. He smirks.  She always comes back. She returns to the little table, grabs her sweater, and wraps herself within its softness. He starts to talk. She holds up a hand, tells him it’s over, and heads off into the night, enjoying the cotton of her sweater and the new shroud of self-respect. 

HIM

Twenty-one years old last week and just had my first proper and legal drink in a bar.  Now, I lay sprawled on cold concrete. I don’t know what happened to me but I know it’s not good. I concentrate as hard as my pounding head will allow. I can taste the well-worn gravel in my mouth as I lay face down.  My lower back hurts like hell, as I try and take stock of things in my life, which at the moment consists of only pain.  It’s as if my brain is wading through syrup, grade A, extra thick.  I struggle. Am I okay, dead, in a coma, dreaming, or drugged? The questions come slowly, the answers not at all. Suddenly, another memory hits me. I was walking down the alley-way when I went down.  

Then, the smell crashes into my olfactory like a head-on with a “semi”. Now, never would I use the term “olfactory”, I must be dead! This smell is neither bad nor good, it is just strong and neutral, which does not make much sense.  I guess, it’s just too difficult to compare and I am really not feeling up to concentrating any longer on this subject. Anyway, after this smell charges my senses, it stays and lingers, wrapping itself around me and seems to whisper a “memory” into my head.  Some past thought is now 

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present. Perhaps I was drugged, after all.  What the hell is happening and where is everyone? I can now remember shots going off all around me.

Something starts to slide down the back of my neck.  It feels like rain but in slow motion.  How can my senses, or life, be so distorted now?  I start to moan or groan.  God, my back hurts. As if things weren’t weird enough, now the silence seems way too quiet.  There are streets nearby, there should be multitudes of sounds. Someone has to be about, I silently question the darkened slab before my face.

Suddenly, the silence is broken by a “click, click, click”.  It starts faint and slow and then a little louder and faster, until its machine gun fires into my throbbing head. My brain and back feel like they’re in competition for my attention.  I thought you couldn’t feel pain when you’re dead.  The clicking stops and softness touches my face. I guess I am still alive.   

HER

After I left my new ex-boyfriend at the restaurant, I hurried home to collect my things, dignity included.  I was never going back to him.  I was so tired of being invisible for my twenty-three years of life.  I deserved more and finally felt strong enough not to be ignored.  I was invisible to my socially overactive parents and invisible to a string of loser boyfriends. Done. Not sure about my plan, except to move forward.  

I fumbled through my bag for my mace, I would never play the victim role again in any form. I cut through the alley instead of walking six extra blocks at night.  The air felt as electrified as I felt.  It was crisp with light rain which suited my now empowered mood.  Then, I heard it, a low guttural groan of agony like a wounded animal. I slowed my pace and looked all around.  Then my heels flew through the alley as my brain and common sense lagged a few yards behind. Adrenaline or something led the way.

3

HIM

  I felt softness on my face like I came home to warmth and everything would now be alright. It was a gentle hand that first touched my face then moved to my aching shoulder, almost leaving a healing trail on my battered body. It restored my senses, if only for a short time. 

HER

There was no wounded animal but some boy, face down on the ground.  I touched his bruised face then rolled him onto his back. There was no one around to ask for help and I know I shouldn’t move an injured person but I was not leaving him in that position and in agony.  He cried out when I took my hand away, so I just kept it on his still handsome face.  

THEM  

‘Can you hear me?  What happened? Are you okay? she bombarded.

“Not really.” he croaked to only the last question.

“Okay, just stay put. Help should be here soon.” she lied. 

She looked around.  Where was everyone? She focused back on his soft brown eyes.

Suddenly, the walls of the alley shimmered like waving air above a fire, followed by a swooshing sound to match.  She had to drop her hand from his face to cover her ears from a deafening blast. He managed to secure his own ears, as well.  They huddled from the unknown together for a few painful moments before it returned to quiet.

4

“Are you able to walk?”

“Not sure.”

He had such pain but knew he needed to make some effort. As he put his elbows underneath his body to first prop himself up, he noticed his back pain had eased tremendously. Strange.

“That’s great.  Now let’s try to walk.  I’ll help you and just stop me if it gets too much for you.” 

“Thanks.” he offered with a sideways grin that stole a little piece of her heart.

She wrapped an arm around his waist to help support his weight as they tried out a few steps. 

After ten minutes of slow walking, they got to the end of the alley and looked down the street.  No one was around.  A warm wind was blowing paper and other garbage around but not a soul was on the city streets.  They stood there in quiet disbelief until he asked her a question.

  “I know I should ask you so many questions right now, like What you are thinking? Is this the end of the world? Is it Zombie time? Was that a bomb? God? The devil? Man? A virus? Revenge of the fifty-foot woman? Attack of a mercer superbug? Or an interplanetary war? And of course,  Are you okay? And I care about your thoughts on these ideas but right now I just need to know one thing and nothing else.  What’s your name?

She smiled at his concern.

“Cassie.”

“Well, Cassie, it’s nice to meet you.  Thanks for helping me and my name is Alex.” 

Oh, that cute smile again, she zoned out as she stared.  And was that an actual dimple? The world could be falling apart with her fresh out of a break-up and she was busy admiring him. Well, no harm in that, or is there? 

“Again, thank you so much back there. You pretty much saved my ass, sorry, life.”

He was trying to be a gentleman, score another one for team Alex.. 

“You didn’t have to get involved but you took a chance and I really needed the help. Actually, what were you doing in an alley at this time of night?”

“It was an escape route of sorts and you really rallied and saved yourself.  I only helped a little.” Cassie held two fingers an inch apart to accompany her remark.

“Besides, let’s check you out better.  You seemed like you were in bad shape earlier.” She kept it to herself the feeling of being pulled to the alley and more specifically, Alex.”

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He looked at his body but saw nothing wrong. He tried to check out his back where he had so much pain not long ago when Cassie offered to help but froze.

“What?” “What’s wrong?” He urged.

She looked at his back in horror and then at him.

“It looks like a gunshot wound through your shirt and dried blood, but your back looks fine!”

Alex couldn’t offer his charming grin or even words.  He just stood there.

Cassie took a step back and stared into his face looking for some warning signs.

“Stop! I can’t explain this but I do know I would not hurt you. I still feel like good old Alex Merchant from West Cedar St. and he’s the kinda’ guy who helps animals.” He tried the smile again but she backed away even further.

“I just don’t know Alex.  This is all so strange and confusing.  I need to go.”

“Where?” 

She shrugged and started to walk in the direction of her recently “old” apartment she had shared with loser boyfriend number three. 

“Listen, I can understand you being a bit afraid of me right now, but there could be worse things out there.” 

She didn’t run from him but kept a little distance.

OTHERS

They walked in silence, finding no others around their once-busy city.  Cassie spotted a stray cat she thought she noticed earlier from the alley but nothing else alive.  She could not be sure in all the drama if it was the same one and it would not come close to them no matter how many times they called out. 

Once she rounded the corner of her apartment building she ran with Alex close behind. She went up the stairs two at a time and flung the door open. No one.  If she could just see a familiar face or thing it might help.   The apartment did not give her relief, however.  It just felt empty and now she was standing in the living room with a dead man, not appreciating the irony.  A chill ran up her back as she turned to face Alex.

“Who are you?  What are you? What is  happening?” She pounded his chest as she shouted and cried her questions. 

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He held her wrists, then held her in his arms and let her sob.

“You know, I thought about running into the kitchen and getting a knife and testing my theory.”

“I am quite grateful you chose to ignore that whim.  What if you were wrong?  You’d really kill me and you might be totally alone, and I of course, “dead dead”, unless I can come back from the grave and get you.”

His lame attempt at some levity made her smile and eased some of the tension. She looked up at him, still unsure but comforted in his arms. 

She packed a quick bag and some supplies and they were about to leave when she noticed something shining on the floor, half-hidden under the sofa.  It was a gun. She bent down to touch it and memories started to flood her mind. Her ex chased Cassie down the alley and randomly shot to scare her. Then she felt hands squeeze her throat in her hazy memories.  She let out a gasp and dropped the gun, not even realizing she must have picked it up.  

“Please let’s get out of here Alex.”

He grabbed the bag, asking no questions,  and they walked outside and into the darkened street.

After they searched and searched, finding no others, Cassie asked if he was hungry.

“No, not really.”

She stared.  

“Now, that doesn't necessarily mean I’m dead.  Nerves can do a lot you know.”

“Alex, I’m  not hungry either!”  She almost cried out!

“Alex, please do something for me.  Check my neck.”

“Why Cassie?”

“Because I think my deranged ex-boyfriend might have shot you dead while he was firing off some random shots in the alley. Then tried to strangle me.”  She screamed. “I need to know if I am dead!”

“I’m having some flash-backs of sorts and it kind of makes sense.”

He checked her briefly, then shook his head.

“Nah, just a little red but nothing much.”

7

THE ALLEY

The two walked for most of the night before they found their way back to the alley. They were drawn to this place where it all started or maybe ended. Perhaps it was some sort of protective bunker.  A nuclear blast and they the only survivors was a  plausible theory.  They knew they had to do much more investigating before they could come to that conclusion, however.  They had their whole lives ahead to take up the challenge, or maybe not.  Could they really be the only survivors?  Were there dangerous creatures out there?  Could this place be more than a refuge or could the answer lie in this amazing girl by his side? Together they would find out the answers.

He would help fix things for her.   He would surprise her and be the best boyfriend in the world, well, possibly the only one. He would start tomorrow and fix that disastrous dinner memory she confided.  He would set up the best meal, with the best flowers and the best conversations.  He just wasn’t sure if they would eat any of the meals.

Alex put a protective arm around her and gently rubbed Cassie’s neck where the gouges and marks ran so deep.  He knew the truth. The afterlife wasn’t really so bad after all. 

Doreen Shea

9/20

September 25, 2020 22:46

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