Select An Item By Bryce Thayne

Select An Item By Bryce Thayne

Select an Item, the small screen displayed.  

Leo stared at the few items that were even still in the vending machine. It had to of been a month, or two since the last restock. And with how everything had fallen practically to nothing, people took what they could. But for the most part, they ignored this one that sat in a concrete hallway at a Motel Six next to State St. Most went to the gas stations and the big stores.

He glanced over the snacks, and then his eyes fell on the bag of Doritos Cool Ranch. He let out a sigh and pressed F3. The machine made a winding mechanical sound, and the metal spiral holding the chips in turned, and the bag fell. He pulled the chips out and examined them.

Exp. Jun. 2022

Okay, they were a little older than he would’ve liked nor guessed. That was okay. It was something, and that was enough.

The room he had been staying in since everything had gone to shit was on the second floor. He had come to Salt Lake City for a business convention, but after the first day of boring talks and corporate bullshit, they canceled the rest. Really, they canceled everything. His boss called him a day or so after everything started, relieved to even get a hold of him at all.

“Look,” his boss had said. “They canceled all flights. Roads are starting to shut down if roadblocks haven’t shut—” Then he was gone. Leo was sitting in the lobby of the motel. A couple was at the counter arguing with the young lady working about how they shouldn’t have to pay a damn thing in times like this. Leo looked at his phone. The call was still there. It hadn’t dropped, and he hadn’t hung up. No, he knew. Just like the others. Gone.

Lucky for him, Pyrong LLC had a card on file, so the argument the couple had wouldn’t be one he would have to entertain. Going back home wasn’t much of a concern in any case. He was behind on house payments as well as property taxes. Not because he couldn’t afford it, but because he didn’t give a shit. His wife—ex-wife—Carla had turned tail and run the previous year after the miscarriage. Afterward, he couldn’t exactly find himself to care about the house and what the government wanted from it.

He stepped out into the hot August heat and started towards the stairs when he glanced out to the road and saw a young woman sitting on a city bench. Her eyes were on him—hell, glued to him.

He stood there, staring back when he lifted a hand and waved. She lifted her own back, in a small hesitate way. Then she called, “Are you real?”

He chuckled. “Well, I feel real.”

“What’s your name?”

“Leo, you?”

“Stella.”

Then they said nothing. The silence that filled the world sat between them. Their eyes were on each other as if there were nothing else in the world to look at.

“Want some chips?” he called. It was a dumb thing to say, but all there was to say.

“What kind?”

“Cool Ranch.”

“No Nacho Cheese? Come on!”

He laughed. “Too hot for Nachos. Wanted something cool.” She laughed too. Then he walked to her. Over the car keys that sat next to a Toyota Corolla and past a handbag that lay overturned on the sidewalk. Cars littered the road. One had crashed into the Crumble Cookies, which was down the street, with glass and debris scattered.

Once he passed over the lane divider, he got a good look at her and felt his heart speed up. She had short blonde hair, reminding him of a punk girl he dated in his early twenties. It was short, styled, and clean. Her black jeans had holes and were tight against her thighs and calves. The shirt she wore had Slipknot on it, and even that too was clean. Her blue Converser shoes were the only things that looked worn out.

“You know,” he said, “for the end of the world, you do a pretty good job at staying clean.”

She laughed, throwing her head back as if it were the funniest thing in the world. He only smiled, relishing the sound.

“The first man I meet in a month and a half, and all he can do is comment on my looks. I have to say, it’s like the world never left.”

He chuckled. “I’m a creature of nature. What can I say?”

She met his eyes. Her warm blue eyes sank into his heart, and he felt his body go weak. “I like to be clean, that’s all. And hell, with everything gone to shit, I don’t think Hot Topic is going to notice a few missing things.”

“Fair enough.”

“What about you, Leo? Still wearing the same things?”

He sat, shrugging as he opened the bag of chips. “More or less. I really haven’t ventured out much since the whole thing turned to shit.”

“Where are you from?”

“Portland, Maine. Came here for a business thing.”

“Really?” She reached into the bag and took one. “You don’t sound like you’re from Maine. You haven’t said a single Ayuh.”

“You’ve been reading too much Stephen King.”

She shrugged.

“Well, I’m originally from Colorado. Only moved to Maine six years ago with my wife.”

“Oh…” That silence again, only broken by the sound of stale chips being crunched.

“My husband —well, ex-husband, too. With…whatever happened.”

“How do you know?” He wasn’t sure if he was asking her or both of them that question. The last time he talked to Carla was eight months ago. He reached out, hoping against hope that there was some way they could move on, be together, and work through it all. The only response that came was, Don’t ever contact me again. She didn’t want to be reminded of what they had lost, of the world that they had created. He knew that, but the world he lived in afterward wasn’t any better. He just wanted her.

“I headed to his apartment. We divorced a couple of years ago, but we never hated each other. It was a pretty simple divorce. Anyway, I went there a few days after this started and found his wallet on the kitchen floor. That was it. But as you know, that’s all you need.”

He nodded.

“What about your wife? How do you know?”

“Well, she’s my ex too. She has me blocked on about everything, and with no way back to Maine, I didn’t really see a point in trying to make things worse.”

She stared at him, her eyes now doubtful. “What happened? She found another guy and split?”

That wasn’t really what she was asking, and they both knew it. Under it was Are you crazy and going to rape and kill me?

“A couple of years ago we were trying for a baby. Well, after six months of trying, she got pregnant. We were thrilled. But during the end of the second trimester, there were complications and…well, the baby died. Neither of us recovered. It took more from her than it ever did me. It was too much for her, and she wanted a clean slate. So, I came home from work one day, and I found all her things gone. No note, no nothing.”

Stella was looking at her feet as ate another chip. “Shit…I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks.”

After a brief moment, Stella asked, “What do you think happened?”

“I don’t know. The news didn’t have much to say about it, and the only people who really did were the crazies or the religious people.”

“What’s the difference?”

“You think it’s the Rapture, or aliens?”

She shrugged. “Doubt it. If it were the Rapture, more shit would be going on. Where’s the antichrist and all that shit?”

“Good point. Aliens then?”

“Possible. But who knows, and who cares? Knowing doesn’t do us any good.”

“True.” He reached in, grabbed the last chip. To think that was supposed to be the end, right there.

“What’s your plan?” she asked.

“For what?”

She widened her eyes. “Like, are you going to stay in that motel till you die?”

“Oh, yeah, shit…haven’t really thought about it.” A lie, but one in a good cause.

“I was thinking of going to the West Coast. San Diego or something. That or Florida. I want to see the ocean. Grew up here and never got to see anything other than the Utah Lake and the Salt Lake, and if you don’t mind me saying, they both suck big time.”

“I’ve seen the ocean a lot; it’s pretty.” Jesus, that’s all you have to say on that? Good fucking going.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” She patted her knees. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I need some actual food. Want to join me?”

“Sure, where to? Isn’t everywhere picked clean?”

She stood, glancing around at the dead streets. “More or less, but I’ve had to survive, too.”

“Fair.” He stood and eyed the motel. His door on the second floor was wide open, just the way he left it. The gun he had taken off a cop’s belt that had been lying in the street was up there. Tucked neatly in the drawer. The gun was fully loaded, with no safety, and it waited for him. Now he wondered if the gun would wait forever. If he needed it at all.

Don’t jump to conclusions. Just go.

They started down the cracked sidewalk through weeds that had forced their way up through the broken ground. There was a small restaurant at the end of the street. It wasn’t far from the Crumble Cookies that had a car through the front. It seemed cleaner, more there. No car through the front of this one.

She pointed to it. “I used to work there, before all this weird stuff.”

“What did you do? Server?” It was his best guess. It looked slightly higher than a Red Lobster, but not by much.

“No, General Manager. A whole $45,000 a year. Really made bank…”

He chuckled. “Yeah, at least you don’t have to worry about that kind of crap anymore.”

They stepped up to the door. Leo opened it and let Stella in.

“True. But I made sure to keep stuff locked up. Well, the stuff I could. I grabbed a decent enough lock and put it on the walk-in. Really, I thought someone would’ve broken in by this point, but I guess God kept this place safe.”

“You believe in God?” he asked as they walked into the back of the store. It was clean except for the layer of dust that found its way over the countertops.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so; I never really did. When I was a kid, I believed I’d get married in the temple and go on a mission and all that shit.”

“Temple?”

“Oh right, you’re not from here. Shit, sorry.” She took a small key from her front pocket and unlocked the door. She then set it on the counter and opened it. Cold air rushed out. “Surprised the power hasn’t gone out. The power company really outdid themselves on this one. Anyway, it’s just Mormon stuff, doesn’t matter. But once I got older, I fell away, cut my hair, got piercings, tattoos. The bad shit.”

“Bad shit, huh? Doesn’t look so bad to me.”

She shot him a look that was half flirting and teasing. It made his heart rush and his face turn hot.

“You don’t know the half of it.” She stepped in, going to the back corner. There, she reached up and grabbed some meat. As she was examining the dates, he stared at her, taking her in. She was very different from Carla. Carla was the one who wanted to wear the prettiest red dress to any occasion that called for it while letting her long brown hair down her back. Always asking if what she was wearing was too much or too little. Every day, she wore bright colors, blue jeans, and rarely anything dark. It never bothered him; in fact, he loved it about her, but that was the thing. She wasn’t here anymore. The love they had was dead, even if she still roamed the East Coast. The torch he carried for her sat deep in his heart, and it would always be there, but maybe, he could dim it, or even put it out.

“This will do,” she said, coming out of the freezer. “Does ribeye steak sound good?” She eyed him, giving him a full scan. “Shit, I don’t care if you like the sound of it or not. You need it.”

& & &

An hour later they were sitting at one of the tables closest to the small bar. Both with a glass of wine in front of them, with steaming steaks.

“When was the last time you had a meal? Stella asked, taking a sip from her glass.

“The day before this went down, I think. Wendys.”

She chuckled. “Wendy’s as a last meal? That’s not something that people on death row ask for as a last one.”

“Death row? Think that’s what we are on?”

She shrugged. “In a kind of weird way, yeah. Do you think it’ll happen to us? The same thing that’s taken everyone else?”

He poked at his steak. “I don’t know. It’s been a month and a half since I’ve seen anyone, and if we are still around, then maybe we are immune.”

“To the weird death ray thing?”

“Yeah, it sounds stupid. But why not us? Why are we special?”

“We aren’t. The world isn’t what our mommies told us when we were little.” She started cutting her steak. “Eat, will ya? I did a damn good job on that, so don’t let it go to waste.”

He started at his. “I know it’s not, but it just seems so, odd.”

“Yeah, odd isn’t the best word though. Fucking insane is better.”

He took a bite, stealing the flavor for a moment. God, it had been so long before something so good robbed all his other senses, taking them over.

“Good, huh? Told you I knew how to cook?”

“Yeah, I guess you did.”

They ate in silence. The sound of the dead world brought no comfort. They made their own in that moment. It was something he hadn’t felt in some time. Long before Carla run off, taking whatever love he had left.

“West Coast, huh?” Leo asked.

She shrugged. “Yeah, I think so. There isn’t anything left for me here. Family is all gone, not that I was close to them in any case. Not really sure why I hung around this long, anyway.”

He gave a waned smile. “What if I joined you?” He didn’t really know what prompted the question. Maybe it was the thought of going into his motel room alone with nothing but the distant buzz of the electricity. Or that it meant revisiting the gun.

She glanced up, a slight smile creasing her face. “You want to?”

He shrugged. “Not like I’m doing anything here.”

“Don’t want anymore stale bags of chips to keep you company?” she teased.

He glanced down at his empty plate. The steak practically flew down his throat. “No, not exactly.” But it was more than just being alone he didn’t want. It was far too soon to know if he loved her—though he was sure he’d fall in love with any girl when he hadn’t seen one in almost two months. Yet, there was something about her. The way she smiled, the way she talked, the way she made him feel less crazy. That was it. Feeling as if his mind was flying away from him was what was killing him.

“Come along then! You don’t seem half bad.”

He smiled. “Start tomorrow? Little late in the day to get on the road.”

She nodded. “We can at least get some supplies. Sound good?”

He said that it did.

& & &

The sun lay somewhere far behind the west coast. The stars that Leo had studied almost every night stared down at them. Stella and Leo were sitting on the edge of the bed that he had called his for the past while. The bags of food, water, and other necessities littered the floor.

“What time tomorrow, you think?” Stella asked. She was taking her shoes off.

Leo thought of telling her about the gun. How it sat in the nightstand next to the Book of Mormon. How he had planned to use it. But as he watched her untying her laces, he thought of the two beds that were in the room. It didn’t seem as if she were going to kick him over to the other bed or go herself.

Tomorrow. I’ll tell her about the gun tomorrow.

“As soon as we wake up,” he said. “We could start once dawn hits, but it’s almost eleven now, and I don’t think we will be able to wake up that early.”

She chuckled and said, “Oh, I know we won’t.”

Is she hinting? Is she teasing?

His heart felt as if it were about to break out of his chest and dance across the floor, with his penis soon to follow.

“Soon as we wake up, then,” he said.

She scooted her shoes off to the side and sat up and met his eyes. “It’s crazy…”

He waited, seeing if she would finish her thought or leave him hanging. Once he was sure she wouldn’t answer, she said, “It’s crazy that I’d find someone like you in such a hopeless time.” She shook her head, chuckling. “It’s so stupid, too! I haven’t even known you for more than a day and I’m sure part of it is just the fact that I’ve been alone since this all happened and I’m jumping at the first thing, but it’s not all that. I was alone before this, and now you come along. Mister Portland, Maine.”

The silence that greeted them was far from uncomfortable. It was what both had been waiting for. It was thick but hungry.

“You read my thoughts exactly.” Though, he was sure most of it was the fact of being alone for so long. Reaching out and taking the first gift that God dared give. It wasn’t love; maybe down the line it could be—hell would be. But that was later. Now was here, and not being alone was enough. Not being alone with the gun as it whispered to him of the pits of night, telling him to put it in his mouth, to end this wretched nightmare. He reached out with his left hand and took hers. She squeezed, and he felt the briefest shake.

She reached out with her other free hand and put it on his thigh, then started to lean in. Her warmth felt like heaven after being in hell for far too long.

They closed in, eyes shut. When their lips touched, he pulled her closer. Feeling the missing piece that had left so long ago. The warmth of her hand and lips against his made his heart cry with joy. The softness of her skin was like rich silk. He reached up into her hair, running his fingers through the soft smoothness of it. Feeling the sensation of—

Nothing,

There was nothing. No touch, no warmth. Only that cold space.

He opened his eyes to see her gone. No Stella, no girl that made him a steak and talked about the West Coast, or how she always dreamed of being the tenth member of Slipknot as they strode through the vacant aisles of Costco.

It was as if she never existed.

Like everyone else.

He looked down at the floor. Her shoes were still there, as well as the supplies that they had taken.

“No…no…please, no, I can’t take anymore.” He fell to the ground, taking her shoes and pulling them to his chest. It was all that was left of her. The clothes on her back taken to whatever place people now went. “Don’t leave me alone. I can’t take being alone anymore.” He ran to the door, thrust it open, and went to the railing. He scanned the parking lot, trying to find her as if she just stepped outside and not just disappeared in a flash.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” He punched the railing, emphasizing each word. Then he fell to his knees, the shoes still clenched in his hand. He squeezed them. “Come back, I beg you. Come back. Don’t leave me alone.” Tears streamed down his face as he sat there with the stars above twinkling.

& & &

Select an item, the small screen read.

It had been a day since Stella slipped from this world. He had sat outside, hoping that she would come up the stairs, come back to him. But as the sun began to rise, and the gun began to speak, he knew she wasn’t.

He pressed F3. A small bag of Doritos Cool Ranch chips fell into the small bin. He took it out, glanced at the expiration date and felt no surprise at how old it was. Like the last bag.

The gun spoke to him again. Telling him to finish what he had started.

It was a sound plan. Really, the only one. No West Coast. No ocean. Just release.

Leo strode across the hot top and up the stairs to where he would finally, after all this time, join the rest of the world, except he knew that in the end, he’d be left behind.

* * * * THE END * * * *
Copyright  Bryce Thayne 2025

Image Source: MaximilianHemon from Pixabay