Fallout Dreams

epilogue

the whole goddamn state of arkansas assumed the tornado had died... but trevor knew it had only moved.

the twister must have missed the storage yard. the only damage was a crooked street lamp near the front gate and a mess of fallen branches strewn across the drive. sirens sang from every direction.

in a dozen rows of grey garages, trevor's garage was special. he unlocked it, knelt to the ground, worked his fingers between the cement and the rubber seal, raised the door, then rested it on his knee. he reached inside, stretched, felt around for the switch he installed more than a year ago, disarmed it, and threw open the door.

the can of gasoline still served as his makeshift boobytrap ready to fry the first trespasser and torch all evidence of his existence.

trevor skipped to the motorcycle and rolled it into the sun. with a screwdriver from his toolbox, he pulled off the license plate and chucked it to the back of the garage.

he opened the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. he inhaled every molecule of stale air. he grabbed the revolver, holstered it in his wet jeans, then snatched the baggie of pills and tossed it in the plastic compartment on the back of the bike.

a beat-up sedan strolled past trevor's garage. out of several hundred possible units, it parked beside his.

he licked the ring of soot around his chin and watched a forty-something couple emerge in matching camo pants and hoodies with rolled-up sleeves. a little boy leapt from the back, dashed halfway to trev, and exclaimed, "is that a motorcycle?"

"it sure is!" he replied.

"whoaaa."

"crazy weather!" said the man as he hoisted open his own grey garage.

the woman touched her son's shoulder. "we saw the damage on the news and SOME little boy insisted we get out there and help."

the kid agreed with exaggerated nods. "but daddy needs his chainsaw first."

trevor knelt to his level. "you're a very brave boy!"

"he's a sweetheart," the woman said.

trev jogged back to the garage and grabbed his toolbox. he ripped a bag of m&ms from the massive pallet and tossed them inside.

"the box is a little rusty," he told the man in camo pants, "but there's a hatchet inside, some gloves, and a carbon monoxide detector that might come in handy."

"much appreciated!" said the man. "is there someplace we can drop it off when we're done?"

"if you don't need it, give it to someone who does."

they smiled. they shook hands.

"can you say thank you?" said the woman to the boy, but he scurried behind her legs so she said it herself. "thank you. truly. we'll put it to good use."

trevor returned to the garage and emptied his pockets: ava's journal, the silver key, his favorite moonshine recipe, nolan's phone.

he shoved the recipe back in his pocket.

he opened nolan's cell, clicked "DEAN," and typed, "goshen storage yard, unit 235. HELP!" he pressed send.

he tossed the phone, journal, and key into the bottom drawer. he kicked it shut.

trev lowered the garage back to his knee, then reached inside, armed the boobytrap, and dropped the door to the ground.

"thanks again!" the man called.

trevor mounted his bike. "be safe out there!" he replied, then turned the engine and the bike ROARED.

the boy's eyes shot open with a delicious mix of fear and delight.

trevor flashed the kid his trademark grin, kicked the tires to the pavement, gunned the throttle, and sped away.

I hope you liked Fallout Dreams! If you have any thoughts or suggestions or typos, please let me know in the next few days before I publish! Any feedback at all will be a tremendous help <3