Afterwards

When everything you know is destroyed… what comes afterwards?

Written for LJ au100 challenge. Inspired by the Red Hot Chilli Peppers’ video for ‘Scar Tissue’, of all things. Not a happy story.

The sunlight coming through the windshield woke Hutch at dawn. He shifted awkwardly, grimacing at the pain in his back, and looked over at Starsky. “Hey,” he croaked, then swallowed and rubbed his throat.

“Water’s in the glove compartment,” Starsky told him, not taking his eyes off the road. For a moment, Hutch was puzzled by Starsky’s merely telling him instead of reaching over and showing him. He pulled out one of the full pop bottles and sipped carefully from it, looking over at Starsky again before screwing the top back on.

Starsky only had his right hand on the wheel. His left was immobilised by a clumsy bandage supporting his wrist.

Fragmented memories battered Hutch – terror, and screaming, and the air full of blood and fire.

Starsky looked around at his sharp gasp. “You okay?”

The memories subsided again. Hutch met Starsky’s eyes, seeing the dull horror that matched his own. “Just remembered.”

Starsky turned back to the road silently. There was nothing to say.

Hutch twisted around to look at the back seat. Huggy was still asleep, the white bandage around his head that covered one eye a stark contrast with his dark skin even when dirty and stained. “We should change these dressings.”

There was the faintest hint of a smile on Starsky’s face. “Can’t. Don’t have any more.”

“Didn’t we -” Hutch started, trying to remember what supplies they’d brought.

“Water, and food. That’s it. We don’t even have a change of clothes with us.”

Hutch tried to settle himself more comfortably, and forced back a yelp. Starsky gave him a worried look, and pulled over. “It’s light now. Might as well stretch our legs a bit.”

Some not-quite-conscious memory told Hutch that it would have been a bad idea to stop during the night. He’d driven in shifts with Starsky instead. But there should be enough light now for it to be safe…

“We can see what there is for breakfast,” he said as he got out of the car and began stretching gingerly. Starsky flashed him a quick grin at the mention of food.

“Should we wake up Huggy?” he asked, opening the trunk of the Torino and getting out a picnic hamper. Something about the familiar sight in these very unfamiliar circumstances disoriented Hutch, and he swayed slightly on his feet. Then it was gone, and he was able to think about the question.

“Let’s see if he wakes up on his own. If he hasn’t by the time we’ve both finished our shares, then we’ll wake him up.”

“Okay.” Starsky paused, then put the hamper down, moved a few yards away and turned his back. The sound of a zipper being undone told Hutch what he was doing.

Looking away to give him some privacy, Hutch frowned. The land was – desiccated. Dead plants stood in yellow-grey dust that had been soil. A heat-haze was already dancing on the horizon. Even the blacktop of the road was damaged – scarred, part of Hutch’s mind insisted, but he couldn’t remember why.

Behind him, something groaned. Hutch spun around.

Huggy sat up slowly, running his fingers over the bandage covering his eye.

Hutch relaxed. “Careful, Hug. Don’t go ruining my hard work,” he said, and stopped. He was the one who’d bandaged Starsky and Huggy. He looked down at himself, and noticed a bandage around his right leg. And himself.

Huggy rubbed his cheek. “There any food?”

Starsky came back as Hutch picked up the hamper and looked inside. The contents were – bizarre. It looked as though someone had gone through a large kitchen and just grabbed everything with a long shelf-life, regardless of how it would go with anything else. Custard powder sat next to tins of salmon, and a large box of crackers was underneath a jar of pickled onions and a bottle of syrup.

The three men exchanged uncertain looks. “Which of us packed this?” Starsky asked.

The other two shrugged. Neither of them could remember.

Careful searching uncovered a block of cheese wrapped in clingfilm. They settled down to a breakfast of cheese, pickles and crackers.

Huggy was subdued during the meal. As they got back into the car, he asked abruptly, “What happened?”

A shudder went through Hutch. Starsky stared blankly out through the windshield.

“The world ended.”

Hutch looked around at Huggy, and saw the blank horror as whatever moments he remembered came to the fore. He wondered whether Huggy’s memories were similar to his own, and knew he’d never ask.

“How’d we get out?”

The question sent another shudder through Hutch. “I don’t remember enough about it to tell you. Just – we did.”

“You two came after me, got me out of there,” Huggy said. “Knew we were friends, but -”

“Friends nothing,” Starsky growled, fists clenched at the memories Huggy’s words stirred. “You’re family, Hug. Ain’t no way we’d leave you behind.”

Hutch reached over, and wrapped his fingers around Starsky’s wrist. During the worst part of it, that touch had been their only assurance, the only right thing left to them.

After a while, Hutch started the car. They drove in silence.

“Where’re we going?” Huggy asked eventually.

Starsky and Hutch exchanged glances.

“Pine Lake.”

“The Dobey’s were on vacation there,” Hutch explained.

“We’re checking up on the rest of our family.”

“And… if they aren’t there?” Huggy asked quietly.

Another shared glance. “Then we go find them.”