Wasteland

It Started With Lemons And Flour.

It was like a dream. More like a nightmare. I had been shopping in the grocery, for lemons and flour. Well that's what I think I was doing. And then I noticed the crowd in the store had lessened. I had been near the last aisle. I picked up my flour and made my way towards the counters. I looked down into my basket once more . Lemons, check. Flour, check. Some crisps and chocolate to eat when I am bored, check. I looked up at the counter , to find it empty.

" I Fred ? " I called out .

Silence. I peered behind the counter.

" Come out dude. I have no time for jokes".

Dad was gonna kill me if I came late. He was being very strict about my coming- home -early nowadays. Maybe, being a scientist and working on some shit, for 3 whole months without calling and, asking about his son ,made him more responsible.
Well that's how I see it.
We did argue about it when he came home. He was weary and old. His pepper- salt hair was almost fully white. He patted me on the back and went upstairs. Yea, like any dad would do that after coming home for the first time in three months.
We argued. I shouted and he shouted back. And I stormed to my room and made it a point to bang hard to prove how angry and distressed I was.
So I decide to make a lemon pie. I usually cook when I am angry.Well , I like cooking so face it.
The guys in my school never let me in and only spent their useless lives making fun of how I would cook the most cutest cupcakes in the world. The red velvet one, with tiny red bows and soft cream cheese. I could make those. I spent my childhood baking cakes and pastries. Me and dad used to sell them all the time , at the neighborhood carnival. After I got older he was quite embarrassed to admit it, which become a big blow between our relationship.

I took some cash out of my pocket and spilled it on the table. I even put an extra tip for Fred to show how helpful he had been and pushed the door open and walked out .
That's when things got seriously weird. Not a soul was on the street. Well when I came there were quite a lot of people doing their usual things. That was the most weirdest things about my neighborhood. Even if a cyclone or a tsunami washed over the earth, the old lady opposite the street who walked her dog , would still walk her dog!
God, that lady creeped me out. But now the streets were empty. Even when I came in the first place it was as silent as a peaceful graveyard. Weird.
A strange odour lifted in the air. One could only get wisps of it. The convenience store was right behind my house, one walk away, literally.
I usually jump in and out ( the only exercise I get) which saves my energy and my embarrassment from those jocks that just stand and talk in a few steps in front of the store. Yet, the big bikes and the cigar smoke was absent, instead a big splat of red, staining the pavement. Was that blood?
Possibly an accident?

I held on to my ingredients and ran on, my shoes slapping the pavement. I reached home and swung open the gate, which gave a high creak as it opened. Kicking off my shoes I pushed open the door to find dad seated on one of those automatic foamy leather recliners, typing something feverishly on his laptop.I chewed the inside of my cheek as I passed him hoping to retire to the kitchen unnoticed. Should I tell him? Or even better 911.

" Caleb".

I stopped on my tracks. Not turning around.

" Where did you go? Didn't I tell you clearly that it wasn't safe anymore, to roam around the countryside? "

I could hear him placing his laptop on the glass table. I turned around. He sighed and got up.

" Pack up . We're moving".

I was confused.

" what do you mean? .We're leaving and going somewhere else? Why? it's not...safe here?"
Does he know something about the blood ? Is he hiding something from me?

I could feel his guilt. I could read my father in that way. I did live with him for seventeen years.

The bell  brought me to my senses. Before I could  react dad pulled me into the kitchen. We ducked under a huge cupboard where I usually kept my baking stuff, that's why it smelt so good.

" Why..?"

He put his finger on his lips, his glasses lop -sided and his eyes full of fright.

I heard faint voices in the living room but strangely  "burglars" wasn't the first word that struck me. I shifted my weight a little, uncomfortable with the space, and my whisk fell. Damn it. My dad glared at me.

"They're attracted to noise!" My dad shouted in a whisper.

I could hear foot steps coming towards us, so I shut my eyes as tight as I could .The door that hid us opened and bright light from the windows hit my eyes when I open them and there stood a boy ,with a set of deep blue grey eyes staring at us . It was just a boy.
I felt my cheeks heat up with embarrassment as I got up. In the end it wasn't a burglar.
Dad got up, eyeing the stranger.

"Nathan?" He said incredulously.

" Uh .. Sorry if I frightened you." Said the unknown boy , now with a name.
" We were just escaping from dumb and uncivilised freaks."

What the hell was he talking about?.
Dad nodded ,as If he understood . I opened my mouth but was yet again rudely interrupted my a strangled scream. We ran to the living room ,the guy leading us. We found a girl lying on the carpet with her blond hair fanned out and her leg green and bleeding.