Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Decisions needed to be made quickly at this point because everything was devolving very rapidly now and what was already bad would only get worse from here.
We walked through an industrial area, many of the buildings burned out, any businesses that had once operated here looted of everything. We stuck our heads in a Dollar General, the shelves utterly barren, and what looked like blood smeared across the floors. Next door, a Department of Motor Vehicles sat vacant, chairs overturned, and counters toppled. I assumed there’d been computers and phones present, but they were gone now and why anyone would take the time to lug those things away considering the circumstances was beyond me. Perhaps, in some cases, it was just human nature to take and that’s what had happened here.
We continued on. This area of town had been completely stripped. Even the cars sitting in the streets here had been emptied, doors, glove boxes, and trunks standing open, and even some of the engines missing. No wonder very few people wandered the streets and the ones that did, averted their gazes and turned quickly away. They knew at this point that information and help wasn’t coming and that other people only represented danger.
“There’s no smog,” Emily murmured as we came to the top of a hill with a better view of the city. I’d been so focused on looking down every block and skirting doorways, that I hadn’t noticed the sky. But I looked up briefly now and noticed she was right. Even despite the massive fire that burned miles away, the brown cloud that typically coated Los Angeles in a dirty haze was gone.
But before I could comment, a smell rose up and both Emily and I put our hands over our noses. Emily coughed, tilting her head toward me. “Dead bodies,” she said, both of us familiar with the putrid scent by now.
And when we turned the corner, we saw why. What had once been a tent city of homeless people was now a pile of rotting corpses. “Oh God,” Emily said, turning her face into my shoulder. I wrapped my arm around her and led her in the opposite direction.
A man stood on a street corner, one hand raised, the other clutching a Bible as a group of people stood before him. The people started swaying as the man’s voice boomed, “And there shall be signs in the sun, and in the moon, and in the stars; and upon the earth distress of nations, with perplexity; the sea and the waves roaring; men’s hearts failing them for fear, and for looking after those things which are coming on the earth: for the powers of heaven shall be shaken.”
His voice faded as we moved on, and the screams and wails we’d heard in the distance grew closer. The occasional noise of an engine revving could be heard, and dog howls rose into the crystal sky.
It appeared that lots of people had already left.
But many had also stayed.
I’d heard once—somewhere—that on any given day, New York City had less than a week’s worth of food for every man, woman, and child. If the same was true of other major metropolitan areas, Los Angeles had run dry a week and a half before. But even that was generous considering many would horde and leave none for others. In some places, people had gone hungry on day one and stores that sold groceries had been stripped bare within a couple days, if not hours.
As we walked, we discussed in low tones the best route to take to my uncle’s house in Lynwood. From where we were, it would take about three hours to walk, and though I wanted to attempt jogging to get there more quickly, I also knew caution was key.
“We could try to make it to my condo instead,” Emily said. “I have food there.”
“My uncle’s house is closer,” I said, glancing toward the west where Emily lived. It was also where the majority of the smoke was rising from, and where I could hear engines gunning. My best guess was that it’d been taken over. “Plus, you don’t have the keys to your condo, and we can’t scale the building.”
“It’s all electronic,” she murmured. “I don’t know if that means it’s wide-open, or inaccessible.”
“Either way, we’d be shit out of luck.”
We put our hands over our noses again as another block of bodies stretched before us. Goddammit, these poor people. They’d lived desperate lives on the streets, and then been the first ones left to die. Next to me, Emily swiped her eye and looked away. “What’d they die from?” she asked.
“Most lack of water, probably. Some needed medication. Violence. No way to tell.”
The farther we walked, the more people we saw, some rooting through overflowing trash cans of food that—if there was any there—would be long-rotted by now. Just like Hosea had said, disease was going to spread quickly in a landscape like this, if it wasn’t already. Awful scents of death and garbage and pungent, smoldering fires assaulted our noses and the sound of children and babies crying made us both wince.