A Gun, Again

Isaac paced through the movie theatre rows, clenching his jaw repeatedly while waiting for the phone. While other Uncaptured ones had to live in abandoned homes or gas stations, he and his love were lucky enough to have a whole deserted movie theater to themselves. The paint was once vibrant, but now only mold and rust provide any color. Cardboard and popcorn seeds from nearly sixty years ago gave the place a rotten smell. Still, it was the perfect hideout for their lifestyle of looting long-gone pharmacies. At least the ones that haven’t been hit yet. Some shops had solid security; usually a platoon of lower-ranking authorities of the New Way. Isaac favored this high-risk robberies, not attempted by the rest of the Uncaptured. It was always worth it either way for whatever gold mine of medication stashed away.

Isaac shivered as he guessed it may have been the beginning of what people back then would’ve called October. He saw it on a movie poster once, which was the same instance he learned the word Sky. Not that he was studying vocabulary or anything, since he was more focused on not getting caught. His walked out of the room to observe the eerie lobby.

Looking out of the massive hole in the wall, near the entrance of the theater, he noticed light snow starting to fall. He cursed the advanced weaponry used by the New Way Authorities and wondered what kind of machinery could have caused a 20-foot opening in the wall. As long as they don’t come around he thought.

Isaac then focused on his dry, shaking hands, ignoring the fact that his breath was visible. Today it was his girl’s turn to score some, and he has been waiting all morning for an update. He spat on the ground, grey phlegm, while rubbing his eyes. He grazed over to the center of the place and leaned against a large box with worn-out lettering, spelling out “Ticket Sta.” Perhaps an old code for something. He gazed out of the only door that wasn’t taped up and tried counting the bullet holes in the glass. Another entrance to add to the to-do list. From the other room, he heard the phone ring. As he walked towards it, the ring and his footsteps got more deafening. Just a desk, a landline, and a pile of rations that they were running low on. Isaac let the phone ring a couple more times before answering, hoping to appear busy in the process.

“Yo.”

“Isaac! Something came up. Listen, there’s a lock on it. I can’t get it open.”

Ember’s voice always kicked his eardrums in. Leaning back against the wall with a smirk, he replied, “use the gun, Em. That’s why it’s with you. Don’t worry.”

“There’s only one bullet left, we might need it later!”

He picked at his bitten nail. That hysterical tone often got on Isaac’s nerves, but still, he persisted. “I’ve got news for you when you get back. It might change your mind. Don’t get too excited.”

“Since when do I- okay. Give me an hour.”

“Okay.”

With a static click, their conversation ended. Ember cut off like that a lot. Isaac looked around the room as if it were judging his response. He hung the phone up and went down the long hall to all the ancient movie posters to distract his impatience. So many dystopian survival films being advertised, he had to laugh to himself. Buildings on fire and people screaming with guns. Tyrannical governments. Roided-out models with pretend struggle on botox faces. If only his ignorant ancestors took these films as warnings, and seriously. Isaac’s lifestyle wouldn’t have to reflect their fantasy storylines. The nerve.

One of Ember’s favorite butterfly knives was resting against a rolled-up poster. He picked it up and pocketed it while mentally comparing her combat skills with his. Chances are, if they survived the New Way this far, they shouldn’t have to worry. Isaac wasn’t like his family or friends who took everything for granted. He glanced back at the phone. It hadn’t made a sound since the call, but he wished it would ring just once to interrupt his boredom. It was either loneliness or pressure; never any other emotion with Isaac. It got to him sometimes, but he didn’t have many people to take it out on. He spat again.

Then he shut his eyes hard as he recognized he could get aggressive at times. He didn’t mean half the things he said to Ember. It’s not like they had chemistry on their side. Or history. Thinking back to when they met after the final wave of mass deportations always made him queasy. They didn’t have anyone but each other, which was still more than most of the Uncaptured. Isaac and Ember’s desolation was a routine that seemed eternal. No solutions were walking through the door. No prayers were being answered. Seeing only the Authorities of the New Way and other refugees fighting over the same orange pill bottles they were after made him lose sleep most nights.

He never realized how suitable the word “abandoned” was. It sounded abandoned when he said it. He began to repeat the three syllables to himself as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The entrance door swung open and shut again, the setting sun teasing the room with a quick flicker. Isaac heard the familiar footsteps and sat up to find Ember, drenched in dirt and sweat, shuffling towards him.

“What’s the news? Come on,” Ember said as she dropped the bag of medication. It hit the floor and made a sound. Isaac cringed. Her stance demanded an answer; hands on hips was another pet peeve of Isaac’s.

“Calm down, let’s see what we got.” Isaac rubbed his hands together as he moved closer to examine the loot.

“We? Funny.” Ember wiped the drips from her forehead and removed her yellow bandana. “I got some really good stuff. Tell me the news now.”

“Where’s the gun?”

“In the bag.”

“Uh-huh. Well, you better not lie about this. I couldn’t sell the last pickup anywhere last time. Anyway, I found someone staying by the library ruins. He said he would trade with me. He wants meds. Any kind.”

“Trade for what, Isaac?”

“For something, I swear.”

“Just tell me. I do everything around here. I come back to see you scratching your-”

“Gun. This time it’s for the gun.”

“You’re serious?”

“We need the meds more, I’m telling you. No one wants an old-time gun. They stand no chance against the Authorities. This might be our last chance to trade it. And I trust this tradesman.”

“Wow. Great.” Echo put on her bandana and rubbed her chin, deep in thought. “A gun. Again. We basically lost the last one we had. You trust any tradesman, Isaac. You trust anybody.”

“But this is an actual tradesman. He is an Ex-Authority. He knows everything, I swear. Plus, no one’s coming. We don’t even need a gun. Besides, you said there’s one bullet left. There’s no point.” Isaac interlocked his fingers and gently said, “let’s see what you brought. Now, come on.”

Ember looked at him up and down, then to her score, still on the floor in between them. She cleared her throat.

“Okay, Isaac. I expected a lot less. I don’t even know if it’s the stuff people want.”

She hesitated, then picked up and handed him the sack and tightened her lips. Isaac inspected the goods with a blank face while Ember slouched her shoulders. Isaac nodded once then turned to his partner.

“These won’t do, Em. I’ll be lucky if I get a week’s worth of rations for this. You always do this, you know. It’s pathetic.”

“Don’t talk to me like that.” Echo’s voice was cracking. “It’s me who went out there.”

Isaac took four seconds to fully complete his sigh. He then turned his back on Echo and curled his hands into fists. He squinted his eyes before speaking.

“That's what you get for lying.”

Isaac smacked his lips and waited for a response, but wasn’t met with one. Echo looked from him to the ceiling then sat down, put her head in her hands, and focused on the patch of carpet closest to her. He observed her exhaustion with pity. All she did was slow him down. Always fumbling heists and attracting danger. Now she was just killing his mood. She started tearing up as Isaac was smiling.

It worked! She bought every word he thought. It’s a shame it had to come to this. It’s either her or me. He picked up the butterfly knife without her noticing and slowly opened it. No sound was made as he walked towards her. His eyes were wide as he lifted his hand and aimed the blade. Echo heard the rusty breathing as she whipped around to see Isaac towering over her. Before she could get up, her man had his arm fully raised above him as he started drooling.

“Don’t worry, Em.”

Ember rolled around in response to his announcement, dodging the knife, causing Isaac to stumble. She quickly sat up on the counter and kicked both feet through Isaac’s chest, sending him flying. Collapsed on the floor, he clutched his breast and started coughing. He managed to get out the faintest gasp as he looked around on the ground for the knife. Ember searched through the loot to find the firearm. She threw the bottles out and saw the gun at the bottom of the bag. Pills scrambling all over, she grabbed the pistol as Isaac crawled a couple of feet towards the knife at the floor of the concession stand. Gripping his chest, his movements were slow and he kept on groaning. He tried to choke out a couple more words, but they couldn’t leave his wide-open mouth. Ember made sure the last bullet was loaded and stepped on his ankle, preventing any squirming. His last look of Ember was obstructed by the waving pistol. She extended the gun towards him and turned her head away.

The concession stand lit up as the bullet left the chamber to shatter the glass. Shards exploded out and struck Isaac’s face, making him wail. Ember lowered her strained arm and relaxed her muscles. Her mouth was shivering and her eyes darted around everywhere except her man. She dropped the firearm and tried not to get dizzy due to the world spinning. For Isaac, the world went dark and he began to see spots of purple and green. Ember gathered what was left of the score and looked back at Isaac clutching his eyes. She thanked God when she heard the sirens of the Authorities. Maybe a mile down the road; just enough time for her getaway. The walk out of the back of the theatre was brisk as she tried to regain her focus.

The snowfall was now picking up, and she stuck her tongue out to taste the new season. She began thinking of her next move as the final cracking sound of the glass echoed in her head. Ember thought about those classic words she heard from Isaac and agreed.

That’s what you get for lying.