Zoey peered through the broken window of the old farm house. White plaster cracked along the walls, exposing large sections of horizontal wooden slats underneath. Plaster dust and other debris littered the floors. A tattered cloth yellow chair sat in the corner of the otherwise sparse livingroom. She wrinkled her nose at the musty smell and started to reconsider her suggestion of exploring the house.
The sound of rusty hinges grinding caught her attention. Patch said, “Looks like its unlocked.”
“Patch, I think I’ve changed my mind.”
“Well, we’re already here, might as well take a look around.”
Patch walked into the house.
Zoey frowned but followed him inside. “No, I mean, this place doesn’t even look structurally sound.”
Patch walked over to one of the walls and knocked on the plaster. A large chunk fell to the ground and shattered in a cloud of dust. “Whoops!”
“Patch! Alright, if this place falls on top of us, I’m blaming you!”
Patch looked back and flashed a smile, “I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d rather be trapped with under a pile of rubble.”
“Very funny!” Zoey strode into the kitchen in mock anger, trying to hide her own smile.
A large cast iron oven range sat against the far wall adjacent to a small pile of wood. Pots and dishware overflowed from a large metal sink.
Zoey stepped over a gaping hole in the floor and walked toward the oven, dodging various boxes and empty cans along the way. She opened a few of the cabinets and a shelf full of canned food rewarded her efforts. “Jackpot!”
Patch appeared at the entrance. “Found something?”
Zoey reached up and pulled out a few of the cans. “Hope you like Kidney and Lima beans.”
“Mmm, my favorite!” Patch opened a few of the cabinets on the other side. “Looks like we got some white rice, ramen noodles and...interesting…”
Zoey turned around. “What?”
Patch unscrewed the top of a jar containing a brownish liquid. He pulled his head back quickly. “Wow...that’s some strong stuff.”
Zoey walked over. “Here, let me smell.” The smell of alcohol caused her to retract as well. “Whiskey? I know Pennyworth would love to get his hands on this.”
Patch lifted the jar to his lips. “I better taste it, make sure its still good.”
“No, that’s not going to happen.” Zoey caught his hand and screwed the top back on the container. “We’ve still got quite a ways to walk and I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t be mixing alcohol with that medication.”
“It’s just been a long time since I’ve seen bourbon...”
“Don’t worry, once we get you back and healthy, we can ride back out here and enjoy it together.” Zoey walked over to the other side and reached into one of the broken areas of the lower wall. “I’ll even hide it, so it will still be here when we return.”
“I can’t wait!” Patch walked over to the wood and placed a few pieces in the oven.
“Found some matches.” Zoey tossed the small box to Patch who failed to catch them.
Patch bent over and picked up the box. “You’d think I was left handed, but I never could catch worth a darn as a kid.” He lit the fire and closed the oven door.
“Hey, can you help me find a can opener?”
Patch and Zoey explored the remaining cabinets and drawers. Other than some steel utensils, they did not locate a can opener.
Patch pulled out a large carving knife from one of the drawers and positioned the can of Kidney beans on the counter. “Mind holding this can for me?”
“Hmm, I’ve got a better idea. Remember when you said you’d help me practice my telekinesis?”
Patch raised an eyebrow. “Um, I don’t recall saying those words exactly. And I’m not sure a metal can is really the best —”
“Oh, come on! Let me try. It will be easier than trying to stab it with a large knife!” She really did want to practice her precision. With the door in her mind only partially open, she felt in complete control over her aspect, however, her skill with it reduced considerably, along with her power. Surely with practice she’d be able to eventually maintain both control over herself and increase her skill.
“Ok, well what do you need me to do?”
“Just stand back a bit.”
“Ok.” Patch took a few steps backwards and mumbled, “Not sure how I’m helping here though.”
Zoey said, “You’re helping because I would have never attempted this without you. Now make sure I don’t pass out or anything.” Only the first part was true, but she didn’t want him to feel emasculated. And besides, if she did lose control, he was the only one who ever managed to bring her back to sanity.
Zoey concentrated and felt the thin ribbed walls of the can. She focused on the steel top, applying pressure in a narrow arc, as she imagined an invisible can opener. She could feel the metal bending slowly. Suddenly the can burst at the center, spewing beans and brown liquid in all directions.
Patch wiped a bean from his cheek and looked at Zoey. Beans dripped from her hair and clothing. After a second, he cracked a smile and turned away to muffle his laughter.
Stunned, Zoey looked at him to make sure he was alright. Upon noticing his attempts to hide laughter, she smiled and reached down to pick up a glob of beans from the floor. “Oh, you better not be laughing at me right now Patch!” She plopped the handful of beans on the back of his neck.
Patch turned around in open laughter now. “Oh! I see how it is!” He pulled some beans that were dripping into his pocket and tossed them at her.
Zoey ducked, but not in time as the beans landed in her hair.
After several more minutes of bean warfare, Patch begged for a truce and they sat on the floor against the cabinets breathing heavily. Eventually he said, “Ok, try it my way now?”
“Yes, just be careful not to chop off my fingers.”
They stood and Zoey located the can of lima beans. She held it in place while patch pressed overhanging back edge of the carving knife into the top. He punctured it and eventually cut a crescent to where he was able to bend it back halfway open.
Patch then poured the beans into a pot on the stove. Using the same technique as Patch, Zoey opened a second can of lima beans and poured them into the pot. She said, “Too bad we didn’t find any water, I wouldn’t mind some rice to go along with this.”
Patch grabbed a large empty jar from the counter. “Keep an eye on the beans. I think I saw a pond out back.”
Zoey hesitated and looked out the window at the back of the kitchen. A pond barely seemed visible inside a copse of hickories. “Alright, don’t be long…”
Patch called from the front door, “Be right back!”
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Aftermath of the Reckoning
FantasyA contagious disease decimates humanity in an event known as the Reckoning. A telekinetic assassin and a nomadic healer fight for survival in the post-apocalyptic aftermath. *** The first story I ever wrote.