Apocalypsis 03 - Exodus

tears. “Now look at you. You’re saying bad words. Everything’s going to shit around us.”
    We both smiled at each other, our chins quivering.
    “You have snot running down your nose,” said Peter.
    “So do you. And it’s not attractive,” I said, wiping my nose on my forearm.
    Peter sighed heavily, disengaging himself from my loose embrace. “Well, I’m going to finish packing whatever I can here, and then I’ll go see what I can do about getting us some dried beef for the road.”
    “Good. I’ll …” I looked around me, at a loss for what I could do to prepare us to leave our home. “I’ll sit down and contemplate the lint in my belly button.”
    “Excellent plan,” said Peter, picking up cans of beans and looking at the labels. “Do me a favor and ask your belly button if it has any ideas for where we should go tomorrow.”
    “Will do,” I said, looking over at the sleeping area. Jamal and Ronald were staring at us with worried expressions on their faces. “No,” I said to them as I joined them, “I haven’t lost my mind. We’re just joking around to let off steam. We’ll be fine in a few hours.”
    “Or eighty,” said Peter from the other room.
    “Or eighty,” I repeated softly.
    “Listen, Bryn … you guys don’t need to do this,” said Ronald. “This is your home. You stay and we’ll just go and leave everyone alone.”
    “Nope,” I said cheerily. “We’re going together. And the first thing I’m going to do, is go rescue my boyfriend if he’s anywhere out there to be rescued. You guys will have to decide if you want to go with me or do your own thing.” I looked over my shoulder and said louder, “You too, Peter. You can hang out in an abandoned house if you want and wait.”
    “Nah. I like keeping you out of trouble. I’ll be coming with you, even if you decide to go somewhere stupid like the canner ‘hood.”
    “You’re talking about going to the place where you know there are cannibals?” Jamal said. He looked at his brother. “I’m sorry, brother, but she seems to be operating with a card or two missing from the deck.” He looked back at me. “No offense.”
    I laughed. “Jamal, I’ll try not to take offense to you calling me crazy. I guess I’ve been called worse.”
    “He didn’t mean it like that,” said Ronald, frowning at his brother. “What he meant was, he’s grateful that you stuck up for us, but maybe you should consider just counting your blessings and staying here in Eden.”
    “Pfft. Eden, my ass,” I said bitterly. “You get kicked out of Eden for sticking your nose in business you’ve been told to ignore … not for sticking up for people and doing the right thing.”
    Jamal frowned. “Well, yes and no.”
    I shook my head. “I’m not going to have a religious conversation with you right now. Or ever, probably. I’m just saying … I don’t want to live in a place where good kids are excluded because people are afraid and being selfish because of it. Plain and simple.”
    “Us, neither,” said Ronald, receiving a nod of agreement from his brother.
    “Good. Then it’s settled. We start out tomorrow together. You guys, Peter, Buster, and me.” I looked around at all of them, Peter having joined us near the mattresses. “So where are we going to go after we find Bodo?”
    No one said anything for a full minute. It was terrifying to think that none of us had a clue where we’d be living less than twenty-four hours from now. I tried not to focus on that aspect of it.
    Jamal raised his hand slowly, stopping it when it was even with his cheek.
    I lifted an eyebrow. “Are you raising your hand?”
    He nodded.
    I gestured. “Go ahead. By all means.”
    “Well … Ronald and I were talking before … before we met Jimmy and Sissy … about a certain place.” He glanced at his brother, who nodded, so he continued. “It’s south of here a little bit, but not far at all, really. We could probably walk there in a day or two.”
    “Where is it?”
    “Not where. What ,” he said mysteriously.
    “Okay, what is it?”
    He took a big breath and huffed it out, pressing his lips together once before answering.
    “It’s a prison.”
    ***
    Peter and I looked at each other. He shrugged his shoulders and gave me a look that said, Why not?
    “You mean, like Alcatraz?” I asked.
    Jamal smiled. “No. That prison was on an island - and probably would have been perfect. But seeing as how it’s in San Francisco, it probably