James Hunt

BROKEN ROADS

A Tale of Survival in a Powerless World

Day 7 (Katie)

The smell in the room was unbearable. The number of people in the relief center, combined with no showers, no A/C, and the summer heat beating down on the building made the air thick with human stench.

Katie’s hands were dried with dirt and grime. The white paint on her fingernails flaked off in chips. The only jewelry still on her was the wedding band around her left finger. The diamond ring was stolen, but she  managed to keep the gold band.

Katie watched the bodies shuffle in between the cots spread out on the floor. The dark circles forming from the sleepless nights weighed heavy under her eyes. All she could think about was her family. She had no way of contacting them, no way of knowing if they were alright, no way of telling them that she was alive.

It had been almost two days without a fight breaking out, but people were getting edgy again. She knew it was just a matter of time before the fuse ran out. The food rations had decreased dramatically, along with access to the water tanks.

Guards armed with automatic rifles kept watch on them. They patrolled the border of the room and two were stationed at the food and water counter.

An elderly man with hunched shoulders and liver spots dotting the top of his bald head, approached the guards barricading the food rations. He looked two steps from death. He pointed toward the counter, his finger trembling in the air.

“Sir, dinner rations will be served at 6pm. We will notify the group when it’s time to approach. Please return to your space.”

The old man didn’t walk back. He inched a few steps forward, still pointing at the counter behind the guards. Each of the guards was a good foot taller and one hundred pounds heavier than the old man.

The same guard that spoke to him let out a sigh. Keeping his rifle in one hand he grabbed the old man with the other and walked him across the room. Everyone stared at them. The guard wasn’t forceful, and the old man didn’t resist, but the sight made everyone feel uncomfortable, some more than others.

“Hey, dick, just give him something to eat.”

The comment came from a young man in his twenties. His shirt was stained with sweat rings. His hair was untamed and his face was smudged with a week’s worth of dirt.

The guard ignored him. He continued escorting the old man across the room.

“He’s hungry!” the young man said.

The guard released his grip of the old man and brought both hands to his rifle. He brought the gun to his shoulder, aiming the barrel at the young man’s head.

“We’re all hungry, and all of us will eat, but not until 6pm. Understand?” the guard asked.

The young man didn’t back down. A few others gathered around him. The other guards converged on them, their rifles aimed and ready to shoot.

Katie gripped the edge of her cot. Her knuckles turned white against the faded blue padding clutched in her hands.

Katie slowly rose from her cot and backed away from the center of the room. She inched her way to the back wall. A few people followed her lead, but most of the room gathered in the center, either out of defiance or wanting to see what would happen.

“Everyone disperse and return to your beds,” the guard said.

“You think you have the right to tell us what to do?” the young man said.

“I’m warning you.”

Katie’s back bumped against the wall. She felt herself trying to push her way through the concrete. Her heart beat faster. She wanted to leave. She had to get out.

The crowd around the young man grew, and with it the young man’s boldness. He stepped closer to the guard. The rifle still aimed at his head.

“You’re warning me?” the young man said.

“Stand down.”

“You gonna shoot us?”

“Stay where you are and stand down!”

Katie jumped as a hand wrapped around her wrist.

“Mrs. Miller, we need to leave,” Sam said.

Sam’s jacket was off, exposing his shoulder holster, his pistol sitting in it. The top button to his collar was undone and his tie hung loosely around his neck. Sweat collected on his forehead.

The young man continued to move toward the guard. Each step was slow, deliberate, testing the waters before moving forward.

“You have enough bullets for all of us?” the young man asked.

The young man reached his hand into his pocket, slowly.

“Put your hands up!” the guard ordered.

Katie felt Sam pulling her along the edge of the wall. She could tell that he was heading for the door. Her eyes kept glancing to the center of the room.

The young man’s hand lingered in his pocket. The crowd around him had grown to fifty plus people. All six guards fingers itched over their rifle’s triggers.

The moment the young man jerked his hand out of his pocket the guards open fired. A spray of bullets sent him hurtling backwards to the floor. Everyone outside the circle of guards ducked to the ground, while everyone inside the circle sprinted toward the closest guard to them.

The gunshots echoed through the room. The massive flood of people rushing to grab the guards’ guns, or raid the food and water, sent the room into a frenzy.

Katie’s arm almost pulled out of her socket once Sam started running. The two sprinted out the door with screams and gunfire exploding behind them.

The two of them ran through the herd of people fleeing the relief center. Outside people scattered everywhere. They put as much distance between themselves and the Red Cross relief center as they could.

The streets of downtown Pittsburgh were dead. Abandoned cars filled the streets. Broken windows lined the storefronts, their shelves completely looted. Trash littered the sidewalk and overflowed.

After running a few blocks Katie ripped her arm from Sam and stopped. She bent over trying to catch her breath. She hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday and was severely dehydrated. Bits of white crust formed at the corners of her mouth.

“Wait… Sam… I need… a break.”

Sam pulled a half-full bottle of water from his pant pocket. He held it out to her. The water was warm, but she gulped it down. She let a mouthful linger for a moment, letting the water splash around her arid mouth. She handed the bottle back to Sam who screwed the cap back on and returned the bottle to his pocket.

“How’d you get your gun back?” Katie asked.

“All of the guards disappeared except for the ones in the food hall. I rummaged through the weapons they confiscated and found my side arm. I figured it was just a matter of time before the other guards took off or the place became overrun.”

“What do we do now?”

“We need to keep moving.”

“And go where, Sam? That place was supposed to be safe. Those people were supposed to help us!”

She threw her hands up in exhaustion, pointing at her surroundings.

“There isn’t anything left, Sam.”

Katie leaned against the vehicle behind her. Her purple blouse was torn and dirty, her pinstriped pants stained with the three-day-old blood she wiped from her hands.

“I’ll get you back to your family, Mrs. Miller. I promise,” Sam said.

Day 7 (Mike)

A trail of boot prints lay behind Mike. He stopped to kneel in the burnt wreckage of his home. He dug his hands into the grey ash and let it sift through his fingers. The particles formed tiny mounds under his hands, like an hourglass running out of time.

The roof sagged. The stairs were charred and splintered leading to a second floor stained in shades of black. Pictures were burnt. His son’s toys ruined from the heat. His daughter’s clothes destroyed. The house was dead.

Tears hit the dusty floor, turning the grey ash into black. Mike wiped his eyes, causing a smudge to smear across his cheek. He retraced his steps the way he came, afraid of disturbing the burnt shrine that was his home.

The rest of the neighborhood wasn’t in much better shape. Smashed windows and broken doors lined the street. Bullet holes peppered the fronts of homes. A breeze blew trash littered on the ground, piling it in different spots.

Mike glanced at the Beachum’s house and the two crude grave marker set up in the front yard. He thought about leaving Bessie’s body where she fell, but when he saw the cold, stiff corpse across the lawn, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. No matter what she’d done she wasn’t always bad, just at the end. He buried her in the front yard, along with her husband’s scorched body.

Mike pawed the bandage on his arm as he walked back to Nelson’s house. He could still feel the heat from the fire burning through. He looked at the once well-kept lawns and houses now in shambles. The neighborhood he came home to from the steel mill for the past twenty-five years lost to despair and betrayal.

“What happened to us?” Mike asked.

The question was quiet, meant only for him, in the graveyard of 24th Street. It had only been a week since the EMP blast. Everything from simple modern conveniences like phones, laptops, and tablets to life sustaining utilities like water and power, were gone. They were back in the Stone Age.

The front door to Nelson’s house was open. Nelson’s home remained fairly unscathed after the neighborhood turned on Mike and his family. If it weren’t for Nelson, he would have burned along with his house.

Two backpacks sat next to the front door when Mike entered. They’d gathered what they could from the abandoned houses. There wasn’t much left, but they had enough to make it Mike’s cabin in Ohio.

The pounding upstairs grabbed Mike’s attention. He walked up the stairs, looking at the family portraits on the wall: first days of school, vacations, holidays. The last picture Mike saw before watching Nelson bang his fist on his son’s door was a family portrait of Nelson, Sean, and Katie, who never made it back from downtown Pittsburgh the day of the blast.

“Sean, we have to go,” Nelson said.

Nelson jiggled the handle.

“Sean, open this door.”

“No!” Sean said.

“We talked about this, Sean,” Nelson said.

“We can’t leave without her,” Sean said.

Mike noticed the dark circles under Nelson’s eyes, the stubble thickening to a beard on his face. It took Mike all of last night to convince Nelson they had to leave.               There wasn’t anything left for them here and if he wanted to him and Sean to survive they had to leave.

Nelson pressed his left palm to the door, the contrast of the gold band around his finger against the blue paint.

“Mom would want us to go.”

The door flung open. Tears ran down Sean’s cheeks. The room behind him was messy. There were toys on the hardwood floors, his bed unmade, and piles of dirty clothes.

“She wouldn’t want us to go. She’d want us to stay here and wait for her to come home,” Sean said.

Nelson knelt down and scooped his son up in his arms. Sean threw his arms around his father’s neck, burying his face in Nelson’s shirt.

“It’s okay. Shhhh. It’s okay,” Nelson said.

Nelson’s voice cracked, a tear rolled down his own cheek. Nelson set his son back down and brushed the hair off of his forehead.

“Mom loves you so much, and the thing she would want the most is to make sure you’re safe. It’s not safe here anymore. That’s why we’re going with Mike. Okay?” Nelson said.

“But if she comes back how will she find us?”

“We’re going to leave really good directions for her. Right, Mike?”

Mike looked Sean’s tear soaked face. What he was asking the two of them to do was hard. He was asking them to leave their home, to leave their mother and wife, to leave all they knew on a chance to survive.

“Yes,” Mike said.

“Now, get the rest of your stuff ready. We need to leave soon,” Nelson said.

Nelson kissed Sean’s cheek and set him back down on the ground. Sean disappeared back into his room, gathering a few more toys. He patted Mike on the shoulder.

“I appreciate you taking us with you,” Nelson said.

“Of course.”

“It’s just hard on him, you know?”

“What about you?” Mike asked.

Nelson’s voice dropped to a whisper.

“I’m fine.”

Once Sean had finished packing his bag, Nelson and Sean moved all of the furniture in the living room into a circle. They placed a few rations of food and water in the center, hoping that if Katie were to come back to the house the formation of the living room would catch her attention. Mike wrote down the coordinates of the cabin and left a map tucked under the supplies.

“Let’s go,” Mike said.

They’d packed their rations. They’d said their goodbyes. Now they walked down 24th Street toward the highway. It was a three-day walk from Pittsburgh to Mike’s cabin in Ohio.

Mike’s fingers reached for the pistol on his right side. He felt the outline of the gun, making sure it was still there. The fire had destroyed all of his weapons and supplies, but he’d found the 9mm pistol tucked away in a closet of one of the abandoned houses they ransacked yesterday in preparation for their journey.

Every time Mike busted through a locked door, pulled open a drawer, or opened up a cabinet that wasn’t his he felt a stab of guilt shoot through his conscious. This wasn’t his house. These weren’t his things. He hated every minute of it. He had no right.

No right? This neighborhood that turned on him and his family had no right to threaten them. They had no right to try and take what was his. Mike closed his eyes, wrapping his mind around the one solid thought propelling him forward. He had to get to his family.

“Dad, you think mom will be able to find us?” Sean asked.

“Absolutely,” Nelson answered.

Mike watched the Nelson and Sean walk together, holding onto each other. If it hadn’t been for Nelson he’d be dead. Nelson pulled him from the flames, risking his life and never seeing his family again. Would he be able to do that? If the choice between saving Nelson or being with his family was presented to him, which path would he go down?

When they turned onto highway 60, the sun peaked over the Pittsburgh skyline behind them. A breeze swirled trash and dust across their feet. They weaved in and out of the abandoned vehicles along the road. It was an endless parking lot.

“Look at all of them,” Nelson said.

“Keep an eye out for any older models, prior to 1980. They won’t have any microprocessors in them and wouldn’t have been affected by the EMP.”

“That’s how your family got out? Because of the Jeep?”

“Yeah.”

Mike thought about the once a month weekend trip where he and his family would go to get away from the city, enjoy the outdoors, and prepare for what was happening now. He reached into his pocket and felt the outline of the pocket watch that belonged to his father. His dad gave it to him when he was a boy. It was the only piece of technology he owned that still worked. It was as steady and reliable as the man who gave it to him.

Day 6 (The Cabin)

The gears grinded in the Jeep. Ulysses threw the shifter into third gear. He pressed the clutch and weaved in and out of the massive blockage of cars along Highway 60. He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the smoke rising from his son’s house behind him.

Ulysses shifted his eyes from the smoke to his grandchildren in the backseat. Freddy clutched his sister, Kalen, in the backseat and the two of them held on to each other. Ray sat next to them, his rifle propped up against his shoulder.

Anne sat in the front seat next to him. Her whole body was turned around. She dug her nails into the headrest to the point of almost puncturing them. Her eyes were glued to the smoke plume.

All of their bodies swayed back and forth. The top of the Jeep was off and the wind flew everyone’s hair around wildly. Bungee cords held down the supplies they packed the day before.

“Anne, I need you to tell me where I’m going,” Ulysses.

Anne didn’t move. Her face was frozen. Ulysses downshifted back into second gear, narrowly missing a black Lexus. Anne didn’t move. She held tight to back of the seat, watching the smoke shrink in the distance.

“Anne!’ Ulysses shouted.

The combination of the roar from the engine, the wind, and the adrenaline coursing through his body, Ulysses’ voice was harsh.

Anne set down in the seat and pulled open the glove box. She flipped through the stacks of paper and pulled out a map, focusing every shred of her will on the task of getting her family to the cabin.

“You’ll want to follow highway 60 all the way to I-376 and take that North; from there we’ll take 30 North to 39 West. That’ll lead us all the way into Ohio by Carrollton where the cabin is,” she said.

The wind kept flipping the map closed. Anne shoved it on the ground and glanced back behind her. The street was no longer in view. Her eyes shifted to her children in the back seat. Tears rolled down both of Freddy’s cheeks.

“Everything’s going to be fine, sweetie,” Anne said.

She gently cupped her hands around Freddy’s face and kissed his forehead. Her eyes flitted up once more at the smoke behind her, the only thing, still visible.

“Do we have enough gas to get us there?” Ray asked.

“We have a full tank now, the cabin’s only seventy miles away. Even with the gas mileage this thing gets we should have enough,” Ulysses said.

The more distance they put between themselves and Pittsburgh the less cars they ran into.

Ulysses watched the faces on the people they passed walking along the sides of the highway. Their mouths dropped at the sight of the Jeep. Each time the look was the same: shock followed by desperation. Arms waved, voices shouted, people ran for them, but they didn’t stop. Ulysses’ face was stone. There was no emotion upon hearing the shouts of their pleas. The fire that was consuming the home behind them was also ablaze inside him.

* * *

Ray watched the “Welcome to Ohio” sign flash by. His hands wrapped around the wood stock of the rifle. No one had said anything for the past hour. The howling wind was the only sound his ears had come across.

“How much further?” Ray asked.

“About 40 miles,” Anne said.

The abandoned cars became more sporadic. They hadn’t seen anyone for a few miles. Ray shifted the gun to the other shoulder and leaned up between the two front seats.

“We should start checking some of these cars for supplies,” Ray said.

“I don’t want us to stop,” Ulysses said.

“We might find something we could use in one of them.”

“Mike has everything we need at the cabin.”

“That doesn’t mean there won’t be something useful. We might not get a chance like this again.”

“Drop it, Ray.”

Ray fell back into his seat, shaking his head. It’s not that he didn’t believe Mike was well prepared. He was sure that the cabin would be well stocked with provisions. He just didn’t want to miss an opportunity. Ray knew the longer this lasted the more scarce resources would become, and while Mike was sure to have supplies, there was no way he would have enough supplies to last them the rest of their lives.

Freddy started to squirm in the seat next to Ray. He shifted in his seat and his leg bounced up and down.

“You alright, Freddy?” Ray asked.

“I have to pee.”

“Can you hold it?” Anne asked.

Freddy shook his head.

“Ulysses, pull over,” Anne said.

“Anne,” Ulysses said.

“Freddy has to go to the bathroom.”

“I really have to go, Grandpa,” Freddy said.

Freddy bounced up and down on the seat. The Jeep slowed to a crawl and pulled off onto the side of the road. Freddy climbed over Kalen and jumped over the side of the Jeep landing on the pavement.

“Kalen, go with your brother and make sure he doesn’t go to far,” Anne said.

“Ew, gross! I’m not going to the bathroom with him.”

“You’re not going to the bathroom with him, just making sure he doesn’t get lost. Now go.”

Kalen rolled her eyes and jumped out of the backseat. She grabbed Freddy’s hand and the two walked toward a tree line twenty yards from the edge of the highway. The trees were tall, and the area was thick with bushes.

From the back seat Ray could see a SUV parked fifty yards ahead of them. His feet hit the pavement and walked past Ulysses on the driver side.

“Where are you going?” Ulysses asked.

“I’m going to scout that car. Just pick me up when the kids get back.”

Ray removed the rifle from his shoulder and tucked it under his shoulder. His feet stepped lightly on the pavement. He scanned the sides of the road, looking for any signs someone was still close by, but couldn’t see anything through the thick brush.

The barrel of the rifle rose once he moved closer to the car. He peered through the back window, checking for anyone inside. He worked his way up to the driver side door and pulled the handle. Locked. He walked around checking each door, but all of them were closed.

The butt of the rifle smashed against the passenger side window. The glass shattered, but didn’t break. Ray gave the window another blow and the butt of the rifle crashed through the window. He cleared the crumbling bits of glass from the rest of the window and reached his hand through to unlock the door.

Ray brushed the glass of the seat and climbed inside. He searched the glove box, checked the back seat, under the seats, and the side door panel containers. A half eaten packet of crackers, road flares and a bottle of water were his rewards. He looked behind him and saw the Jeep still idling along side of the road. He leaned the seat back and put his feet on the dash. He pinched the corners of one the crackers in his fingers and tossed it in his mouth.

* * *

“Just do it over there, Freddy,” Kalen said.

“I don’t want anyone to see me,” Freddy said.

“Well, by the time you pick a spot grandpa’s gonna leave you.”

“No!”

“Better hurry up then.”

The thick layer of pine needles under Kalen’s boots made each step soundless. She wandered through the trees, glancing back at the road every once and a while making sure the Jeep was still in view. She could see her mom pacing back and forth through the leaves and branches.

The forest was quiet. She thought back to the many times her dad took her hunting. She remembered how much she fought him about it, how she complained that she didn’t want to go, but grew to love it. She could still hear his voice, don’t aim where the game is, aim where it’s going to be.

Kalen leaned her head back against the hard bark of the tree. Sunlight struggled to break through the dense leaves above. The trees long shadows covered the ground. She closed her eyes, completing the darkness around her. The snap of a twig caused her to open her eyes again.

“Freddy, don’t come over here and do it. I don’t want to se –”

A hand came up from behind her and covered her mouth. Her arms were pinned at her sides and she was pressed hard against a man’s body she didn’t know. He could feel his hot breath on her ear, whispering.

“Shhhhh.”

Kalen couldn’t see the attacker. Her breaths were sharp, sporadic. Her body shook. She could feel the grime of the man’s hand on her lips. The sour stench from days of not bathing engulfed her.

“Scream and your family dies, understand?”

She slowly nodded her head.

“Good.”

He turned her around against the trunk of the tree, keeping his hand over her mouth. She saw the yellow in his teeth, the bits of old food in his beard. The point of his blade dug into her chin.

“Kalen, I’m done,” Freddy shouted.

The man put his finger to his lips. She watched his eyes move in the direction of Freddy’s voice. She could feel her heart beating out of her chest, thumping faster.

“Kalen?” Freddy asked.

She could hear Freddy’s feet shuffling through the pine needles and twigs on the ground. The man’s face turned into a smile. He moved the blade from her chin and kept it poised in front of him. He wasn’t looking at her anymore. She saw the side of his ribs exposed. Freddy’s footsteps were just beyond the tree beside them.

“Kalen, whe-”

Before Freddy turned the corner Kalen shoved her foot into the man’s rib cage knocking him down.

“Freddy, run!” Kalen screamed.

Her feet fell from under her, slipping on dead leaves. Her belly slapped against the ground, hard. Freddy stood frozen in shock. She got to her knees and before she was able to stand up she felt the grip of a hand around her ankle pulling her backwards.

“Help!” Kalen said.

Kalen’s fingers clawed in the dirt as her assailant pulled her deeper into the forest. She felt his arms wrap around her stomach and lift her off the ground, carrying her. She trashed her arms and legs in defiance, but he managed to subdue her. He wrapped his large hands around throat and squeezed.

“Shut up!” the man said.

Kalen could see her mother and grandfather through the trees, rushing toward her from the distance.

“Kalen!”

She tried to call out, but the man’s grip was too tight. She could barely breathe. The airflow was cut off and she gasped, coughing and choking for air. Then she felt her whole body being thrown to the ground.

The back of her head smacked against a tree root. Her body went limp, disoriented from the blow. She felt foreign hands grabbing her, ripping her shirt off, tugging at her jeans. When she started to regain her ability to fight back a fist came barreling into the side of her cheek. A numbing, ringing sound went through her skull. She couldn’t feel anything anymore. The forest around her spun in circles and faded in and out of her consciousness until everything went black.

* * *

Kalen’s head throbbed. Her face was sore and she felt the scratch of the blanket covering her skin. She glanced down and saw that her shirt was gone and she was wearing only her jeans and bra. The cracks in the Jeep’s seat scraped her bare back. She tried to get up, but felt dizzy and fell back down.

“Kalen?” Freddy asked.

She hadn’t noticed him sitting on the floorboard next to her. She turned her head and saw his eyes blinking up at her.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Grandpa and Ray pulled you out of the forest with some other man. You weren’t moving, so grandpa brought you to the Jeep. You didn’t have your clothes on,” he said looking down at his knees.

“A man?” she asked to herself.

“He was scary looking. After Grandpa brought you back to the Jeep he went with Ray who took the man back into the woods.”

A breeze lifted Kalen’s hair. She shivered, but not from the wind. She couldn’t remember what happened and she was afraid to learn what did.

* * *

The man lay sprawled out on the ground. Blood dripped from Ulysses and Ray’s knuckles. Each of them had their turns beating him. The man’s face was swollen, blood poured from his broken nose.

Ulysses sent the toe of his boot into the man’s side repeatedly, each blow causing the man to double over in pain. He cried out for mercy. He begged, but the punishment was relentless.

Ray picked up the same knife the man held to Kalen’s throat. His fingers wrapped tightly around the handle. Ray knelt down and pressed the blade flat against the swollen bruises and cuts along his face.

“Hold him down, Ulysses.”

Ulysses pinned the man to the ground. Ray unbuckled the man’s pants and pulled them down around his ankles.

“Please. P-please, don’t do this,” the man said.

Ray brought the blade below the man’s waist. The blood curding screams that followed were the tortured sounds of an animal.

Day 5 (Biker Gang)

The ray of light coming in through the crack of the curtains hit the Diablos patch on Jake’s cut hanging from the corner of the chair. Jake lay sprawled across the bed, his arm hanging over the side with his fingertip next to an empty bottle of tequila. Someone pounded on his room’s door.

“Jake!” Frankie said.

Jake slowly rolled over, bumping into the naked girl lying next to him.

“Jake! We got a problem!” Frankie shouted.

Jake threw the door open, the president’s patch flipping forward as he adjusted his cut.

“You better come see this, boss.”

Jake followed Frankie down the hall and into the bar lounge. Pictures of motorcycles, girls, bands, and alcohol lined the walls.

A few of the motorcycle club members sat at the bar drinking beers. The crack of pool balls on the table and a few mumbles from the bikers where the only signs of life in the lounge.

Frankie opened the door from the bar to the garage. Candles were lit casting light on two huddled masses on the floor with bags over their heads. Frankie ripped the paper bags off, their eyes blinking adjusting to the dim light in the garage.

“Meet Jimmy Fance and Bobby Turnt,” Frankie said.

“Where’d you find them?” Jake asked.

“Sneaking around the back, looking for any supplies they could take. Isn’t that right?”

Frankie kicked Jimmy in the leg, sending him collapsing to the floor.

“What do you wanna do with them?” Frankie asked.

Jake scanned the garage. His eyes rested on the tools and equipment he’d used for building and maintaining the bikes that came through. He grabbed a bolt wrench off the table.

“Stand them up,” Jake said.

Frankie pulled Bobby up by the collar of his shirt. Bobby’s hands were tied behind his back and he kept his face pointing toward the grease stained floor.

“Look at me,” Jake said.

Bobby’s face rose slowly. Jake’s face was calm. His pronounced jaw was relaxed, the wrench gripped firmly in his hand.

“You think you can steal from me? From my brothers?”

“We didn’t steal anything,” Bobby said.

The force of the wrench hitting Bobby’s kneecap crippled him, sending him to the floor in agony. Bobby cursed every name under the sun.

When the screams died down Jake smashed the wrench into Bobby’s other knee. Jimmy tried to make a run for it, but Frankie caught him before he got out.

“Wait your turn, asshole,” Frankie said.

“C’mon, man, we didn’t steal anything. You made your point, just let us go, man,” Jimmy said.

“Not yet,” Jake replied.

Jake swung the wrench high and sent it crashing down into Bobby’s head. The skull caved from the force of the blow. Bobby lay motionless in a crippled mess on the floor.

Jake dropped the wrench to the ground. He walked over to Jimmy who was crying and shaking in Frankie’s grip.

“You see this? You tell everyone you know that this is what happens to anyone who robs the Diablos. Got it?” Jake asked.

Jimmy nodded sharply.

“Get this piece of shit out of here,” Jake said.

Frankie tossed him out of the back door of the garage and the man took off running. Jake wiped the specks of blood from his hands on a rag.

“Why didn’t we kill him?” Frankie asked.

“Fear,” he said. “Fear grows with legend, Frankie. He tells the story to one person, they tell another, and each time they do the story grows more intense, gruesome. When people see the Diablo patch they’ll know what they’re dealing with.”

Jake finished cleaning his hands and tossed the rag onto Bobby’s body.

“Take out the trash,” he said.

Jake walked back into the bar lounge pulled a stool over to him. The bartender poured a glass of beer and handed it to Jake. Jake took half of it down in one swig.

The girl from Jake’s bedroom walked out and sat on the barstool next to him. Her makeup was smeared across her face, and her hair was tangled. The bartender poured a drink for her and slid it down. Before she could grab it Jake snatched it up.

“What the hell, Jake?” she asked.

Jake finished the beer he had, slammed it down on the counter, and then backhanded the girl. She flew off the stool and smacked the floor hard. Jake took a sip from the fresh beer and gently placed it down.

The girl crawled away from him. Blood dripped from her lower lip. Jake picked her up by her hair and jerked her head back.

“You don’t get to drink until I’m not thirsty anymore,” Jake said.

Jake tossed her forward. She stumbled in her heels and then disappeared to the back of the clubhouse.

The other members of the MC chuckled from the bar. Jake walked back over to his stool, sat down, and finished his drink.

* * *

The line of bikes out front stretched twenty wide across the parking lot. You could see the door to the clubhouse was open from the street and the patches on the backs of members could be seen inside.

Jake stood in a circle surrounded by his MC. The worn faces of men who’d lived their lives in the wind, sun, and rain looked at their president, hungry.

“Diablos, this city is dead. If we want to make it, we have to keep moving. We scoured the city for as many working bikes as we could. They’re all older models, but they run. Each of you is here because you’re the strongest of our club. You represent who we are, and what we do,” Jake said.

Frankie stood at Jake’s side, his hands behind his back, watching his leader.

“We’re riding south. We hit town after town and take what we find. This is our time, Diablos. The strong are powerful again.”

The men around Jake were dangerous and wild. Pistols hung from their hips and shotguns rested over their shoulders. The bikers shifted their weight on each foot with a vicious cadence, itching to wreak havoc.

“Let’s ride,” Jake said.

Night of Day 7 (Mike’s Journey)

When Mike, Sean, and Nelson finally made out the sign for the airport sixty yards ahead of them, Mike knew they were making good progress.

The closer the three of them moved to Pittsburgh International the more plane wreckage they saw. It looked like a few of the pilots were able to glide their aircraft in on its belly, but the majority of the planes were mangled heaps of metal. Seats, wings, jet engines, luggage, and fuselages littered the fields around them.

Other travelers along the road were scavenging through the wreckage, hunting through the luggage like grave robbers looking for a quick score.

Mike could see the sun sinking behind the airport itself. The tarmac was still and hauntingly quiet. He could make out the distress signals people painted on the outside of the terminals when the realization of being stuck finally came to fruition. “HELP” and “S.O.S.” were painted in large, red letters.

“Hey, you think we should scope out some of this stuff? It might be a good idea to see what we can find in all this,” Nelson asked.

“I’d rather not stop. We’re still close to the city. I want to put as much distance between the masses and us as possible. We just need to focus on getting to the cabin,” Mike said.

Sean tugged at his father’s sleeve.

“Dad, I’m tired. Can we take a break?” he asked.

“We’ll rest soon. We just need to go a little bit further,” Nelson answered.

Mike could feel the burning in his feet from the long day of walking. Each step hit the blisters on under his toes like knives. He couldn’t imagine how Sean had kept up as well as he had.

“Let’s keep an eye out for a good place to make camp tonight. The sun will be going down soon,” Mike said.

A 727-jet liner fuselage sat a half-mile up the road. The plane had crashed just outside the airport tarmac. Most of it was still intact. The pilot had a successful crash landing. The emergency doors were thrown open and the plane was abandoned.

“Better than a Holiday Inn,” Nelson said.

The sun finally disappeared under the horizon and Mike checked the front and back of the plane for any food and water. The food cart was flipped on its side with each of its drawers pulled open and completely empty.

Mike moved to the first aid stations, but those had been wiped out. The only things that remained were a few small bottles of liquor that had rolled under the cart that nobody bothered to pick up and check underneath.

Nelson and Sean reclined a few seats up in first class and found a pair of pillows left behind from the passengers. Sean passed out within minutes of his head hitting the pillow.

Mike leaned back in the row across from Nelson and Sean. Mike leaned back and Nelson tossed him a pillow, which hit him in the face by surprise.

“Get some rest. I’ll take the first watch,” Nelson said.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

Mike could feel the weight of the day bearing down on him. The burn under the bandages on his arm was sore and in need of redressing. Nelson was right. He was in no shape to make it through the night without passing out. He was melting into the chair underneath him.

“Just wake me up when you need to rest,” Mike said.

“I will,” Nelson said.

Mike folded his arms in his lap and closed his eyes. His eyelids slammed shut like the steel doors of the mill at the end of the day.

* * *

It wasn’t until Mike felt his wrists pinned to the arms of the seat and heard Sean’s screams that he woke up. He jerked his arms, but they wouldn’t budge. He squinted his eyes trying to adjust to the darkness. Nelson’s head was bent to the side, a massive lump forming across his temple.

Mike’s eyes adjusted to the darkness. He couldn’t make out the people in front of him. He could only hear the shuffling of feet and the murmur of voices.

“This is all they have?”

“Yeah, I searched these two and that’s it.”

“What about the other guy? What’s he got?”

Before the man could get close Mike kicked the man’s knee sending him to the floor with a thud.

“Goddamn asshole!”

“Grab his legs, Tim.”

“Screw it. It’s not worth it. Let’s just grab the rest of this shit and go, man.”

Tim sent a nice right cross to Mike’s cheek before he left. Mike’s ears rang. His mind went foggy with pain. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to orient himself.

The sobs coming from Mike’s left gave him a point to focus on. They grew louder until they completely replaced the ringing caused by the punch. He looked over at Sean who was struggling to free himself.

“Sean, are you okay?” Mike asked.

“I can’t move my arms,” Sean replied.

“Just hang on, buddy. Nelson,” Mike said. “Nelson!”

Nelson didn’t move. Mike jerked his wrists attempting to free himself, but it was useless. He bent over and started tearing the tape with his teeth. He picked at the tape over and over until he finally had a tear. He tore the piece, splitting the duck tape in half. He yanked his hand free and peeled the tape off his other wrist.

Sean was squirming, trying to get free. Mike had to climb over Nelson to reach Sean whose tears were streaming down his face.

“Dad! Dad!” Sean cried.

“Hold on, Sean.”

Once Sean was unbound Mike pressed his fingers against Nelson’s neck to check for a pulse. Mike leaned in and listened to see if Nelson was breathing. Nelson was breathing and Mike could feel the faint beat of a pulse.

“Stay here, Sean,” Mike said.

Mike tore out of the emergency exit and glanced around in the darkness, but the attackers had vanished. Lightning streaked across the sky followed by a deep, rolling thunder.

When Mike entered the plan Sean was resting his head on Nelson’s shoulder, hugging his dad.

“Sean,” Mike said.

Sean ignored him. Mike reached his hand, placing it on Sean’s arm, but Sean jerked it away violently.

“Leave me alone!” Sean said.

It wasn’t any use trying to argue. The kid was scared, tired, and the one person who could help him was lying unconscious right in front of his eyes. Mike walked back over to the entrance of the plane to keep watch. He pulled the gun from the back of his waist and clicked the safety off. In between the cracks of thunder he could hear Sean’s faint whimpers.

* * *

“Dad?” Sean asked.

Mike’s attention switched from the water dripping from the plane’s emergency exit frame back to Sean and Nelson.

“What happened?” Nelson asked.

“How are you feeling?” Mike asked.

Nelson touched his finger to touch the outline of the lump on the left side of his head and winced when he made contact.

“It was a rough night,” Mike said.

Nelson, still disoriented, turned to his son.

“You all right, buddy?” Nelson asked.

Sean wrapped his arms around his father, burying his face into his shirt. Nelson cradled the back of his son’s head as he rested against him. His eyes looked up into Mike’s.

“Did they take everything?” Nelson asked.

“All of our packs are gone,” Mike answered.

“Well, I’m glad you two are okay. What are we going to do now?”

Mike had thought about that all night. He thought about how they were going to finish the trip to the cabin that was at least another three full days of walking without any food or water. He knew the further they traveled into Ohio where the cabin was located the fewer towns there’d be to try and gather supplies. Right now the only place that was close enough to do them any good was the one place Mike wanted to avoid.

Nelson noticed Mike glancing back toward Pittsburgh International and picked up on what he was thinking.

“I hope you printed our boarding passes before we left,” Nelson said.

* * *

The muggers form last night confirmed what Mike already knew would happen: that people were getting desperate and traveling around, looking for easy scores. It wouldn’t be long before people started organizing into gangs to survive.

That’s what Mike feared awaited them in the airport. It had been a week since everything stopped working. No power, no water, no food, no modern conveniences, nothing. He’d already watched his neighbors turn on each other, and that was in the first week. He didn’t want to imagine what would happen a month from now.

Mike tried to convince Nelson to stay in the plane with Sean, but he insisted on coming to help. Mike finally caved. If he did find a stash of supplies he’d need all the help he could get carrying it.

Clothes, trash, and abandoned airport equipment littered the tarmac. The massive jetliners stood motionless. Some were lined up at the terminals, while others stood frozen on the runways, never leaving the ground.

Mike thought about how everyone on board started to complain the moment everything shut off. He could hear the mumbles and groans on the plane, people cursing under their breath that they’d been inconvenienced by what happened, but if they’d taken off thirty minutes earlier they all would have crashed, and most likely would have died.

Mike kept his eyes alert. He scanned the tarmac for anything unusual, or out of place. He couldn’t afford anyone getting the drop on them now. As much as Nelson said he was okay Mike knew that he wasn’t going to be of much use if things went south.

“How do we get in there?” Nelson asked.

“We’ll have to go up to the main entrance. I’m not sure how to get in from the tarmac,” Mike said.

The three of them walked around the outside of the terminal and followed the monorail to the airport drop off and pick up area. A few of the monorails were stuck on the rack in between destinations.

“Dad, what’s that on the windows?” Sean asked.

When Mike looked up at one of the monorail windows, he could see dried bloodstains smeared across the glass.

“Dirt,” Mike said.

Nothing moved. Mike still hadn’t become used to that. All the times he’d complained about people moving to fast, and now he’d give anything to see a car speed around the corner of the building up ahead.

Then Mike saw him. It was only for a second, but he saw the flash of brown hair duck back into the airport. He pulled Nelson and Sean down behind a luggage carrier.

“What’s wrong?” Nelson asked.

“They’re people inside,” Mike said.

“Do you think they’re dangerous?”

“I don’t know, but if they’re keeping watch, then they must be protecting something.”

Mike pulled the pistol from his waist and clicked the safety off. He peeked above the luggage carrier to the door the man had gone inside.

“We should move to the corner by the front of the building. Sean, you stay close to your dad, okay? If anything happens you two run, got it?”

Both of them nodded their heads.

“Stay behind me,” Mike said.

Mike led the three of them in a single file line. He kept the gun clutched in both hands, his eyes scanning the area. He slammed his back up against the corner of the building. Nelson and Sean followed suit, catching their breath. Mike placed his index finger over his lips.

“C’mon,” Mike said.

Most of the automatic glass doors were shut. A few had been smashed and the rest had been opened manually.

The crunch of the glass behind Mike made him freeze in his tracks. Nelson mouthed “Sorry” and stepped around the remaining shards.

Mike found one of the opened doors and stepped through. The airport was musty. A week of no air conditioning and continually being baked in the sun caused everything to stink. Mike motioned for Nelson and Sean to move in close. His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Look for food. You’ll want to take non-perishable items. Anything in a can or a wrapper should be okay. Bottled water is another good thing to grab. Also, be on the lookout for backpacks we can use to store what we find, okay?”

“What about weapons?” Nelson asked.

“I don’t think we’ll find anything like that here, but if you do grab it.”

Mike squinted his eyes, trying to see deeper into the depths of the airport, but he could only see as far as the light from outside would reach through the windows. No windows, no light. The only things visible were security lines and metal detectors.

Tables and chairs from the food court were flipped on their sides and backs. Broken glass from display cases and vending machines scattered the floor. Sean reached down and picked up a candy bar and showed it to his father. Nelson gave him a thumbs up. Just as Sean pocketed it they heard a crash coming from the back of the Burger King kitchen.

“Stay here,” Mike said.

Mike climbed over the Burger King counter, landing quietly on the other side. He could feel his pulse beat faster. A dim light glowed under the crack of the door leading to the kitchen. He raised his weapon, his knuckles turning white against the black composite of his 9mm and burst through the swinging door.

A group of people was huddled on the floor, all of them with their hands up in surrender. A family with two small children, a young woman, a middle aged man, and an overweight man dressed in a TSA uniform looked at him.

“Hey, man. We don’t want any trouble. Just take what you want and be on your way, okay?” the TSA agent said.

Mike kept his weapon aimed, but moved his finger from the trigger. He glanced around at the group. Each time he swept the pistol over them they crouched lower to the ground. Finally, Mike lowered his gun, clicked the safety back on, and tucked the pistol in the belt of his pants.

“I’m not here to hurt anyone,” Mike said.

“Mike?” Nelson called from the counter.

“We’re good, Nelson. C’mon back,” Mike answered.

The TSA man extended his hand.

“Clarence Furns,” he said.

The two men shook hands.

“That’s Tom Wrink, Fay Cam, Jung To, Jenna To, and their two little ones, Jung Jr. and Claire,” Clarence said.

Tom wore the remnants of what was left of his business suit. His beard crept down along his neck. When Mike went to shake his hand it was grimy with dirt, skin, and whatever he’d ate at his last meal.

Fay’s hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Her nails were long, the nail polish flaking off. Mike noticed the tattoos along her arm, exposed from her tank top.

Jung and Jenna stayed close to one another. They were both dressed in what looked like comfortable clothing for a long trip. Jung Jr. and Claire hid behind their parent’s legs, glancing up at Mike.

Mike introduced Nelson and Sean.

“So, what’s for breakfast?” Nelson asked.

Clarence picked up the lantern and walked them back into the kitchen. The group had stacked the kitchen with boxes of food rations, vending machine boxes, and canned goods.

“You can take as much as you need and stay for as long as you’d like, but I don’t know how much longer we’re going to be able to last here,” Clarence said.

“What are you talking about? There’s enough food here to last you for the rest of the year,” Nelson said.

“When everything stopped working most of the airport was evacuated. They marched people to local hotels, into the city, wherever. There were quite a few that were just left here, and everything was fine for the first few days,” Clarence said.

“Then people from the city started showing up. I guess they thought they could escape on a plane or something. They came in droves and when they got here and found out that the airport was just as broken as the rest of the city, people started losing it,” Tom said.

“It started off with small stuff: where they slept, about personal space, where they could keep their stuff, stupid things. But then people started arguing over food and water. A few of the TSA and law enforcement officers that stuck around tried to keep things in order, but it didn’t take long for most of them to start causing trouble too,” Clarence explained.

“How’d you manage to get all of this stuff in here with all of the looting going on?” Mike asked.

“I grabbed as many things as I could when I started seeing everything fall apart, but then after the first person was killed it was a free-for-all. People just tore into each other. I grabbed these guys and locked us in the TSA security office. We were there for two days before I unlocked the door. When we came out most of the airport was abandoned. A few other people who had survived by hiding in other spots stayed, but most had left. We decided to gather everything we could find and put it in a central location. This was the spot we chose. It has a good vantage point from the front and if we need to get out quickly there are multiple exits,” Clarence said.

They did manage to find a large amount of supplies even after the looting. Nelson was right. They had enough food to last them for the rest of the year, and if Clarence were a TSA agent he’d have access to the security weapons at the airport.

“You said that you didn’t think you could stay here for long, but it sounds like most of the large groups have gone. If it’s just you guys why would you leave?” Mike asked.

“Gangs,” Fay said.

“Gangs?” Nelson asked.

“A guy came through a few days ago raving about motorcycle gangs coming down from Michigan and Ohio. Groups from small towns roving around like Vikings, pillaging what they want. He was a little off his rocker if you ask me though, so I don’t think he really knew what he was talking about,” Tom said.

“And I haven’t seen a single mechanical engine work in the past two weeks. Everything’s down,” Clarence said.

Mike thought about his 1975 Jeep. He could see his family piled in, supplies in the back, heading for the cabin. These people had no idea about the EMP blast and what it meant.

Day 6 (The Cabin)

Anne grabbed the side of the wall blindly trying to get her bearings. Her foot jammed into the corner of the chair sending it crashing to the basement floor.

“Shit,” she murmured to herself.

“Anne, you okay down there?” Ulysses yelled from upstairs.

“I’m fine.”

She finally found one of the gas lanterns she was looking for. She lit the wick and the lamp illuminated the rest of the basement.

Shelves of canned food lined one of the sidewalls. A gun safe stood anchored in one of the corners of the room filled with assault rifles, pistols, shotguns, and ammo for each of them. Crates filled with medicine, bandages, spare clothing, blankets, sleeping bags, camping gear, fishing rods and lures were stacked along the back wall. Anne grabbed one of the first aid kits out of one of the medical boxes and rushed back upstairs.

Kalen was still on the couch lying on her side. Her eyes stared blankly at the floor. Dried blood flaked on the edge of her lip.

Anne dropped to her knees in front of her daughter. She opened up the first aid box and pulled out some cotton balls and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide.

“This might sting a little, sweetheart,” Anne said.

She placed the cotton ball on the corner of her daughter’s mouth, but Kalen didn’t even flinch. Her eyes glazed over. Anne wiped Kalen’s mouth, the white cotton ball turning a light pink.

Anne ran another fresh cotton ball along the cuts and scratches on Kalen’s arms and neck. She kept watching her daughter’s face, but Kalen didn’t move, she didn’t flinch, she didn’t show any emotion.

Ray walked in and dropped a duffle bag to the floor. It hit the ground with a thud. Ulysses came in after him.

“Should be the last of it,” Ray said.

“Let’s take a walk around the perimeter and make sure everything’s intact,” Ulysses said.

Ray headed out the door first and Ulysses glanced back at his granddaughter sitting on the couch. He walked over to her and kissed the top of her head. He looked at Anne.

“I’ll be back in a second,” he said.

The sun was sinking in the sky. The light broke through the leaves of the surrounding forest in fragments.

The two men walked around checking the walls, windows, and then climbed up to examine the roof. A small well was out back and Ulysses pulled a bucket of spring water up and handed it to Ray.

“Take it to the basement. There’s a water testing kit down there. We’ll see what we’re dealing with,” Ulysses said.

Ray carried the bucket back to the cabin, the water sloshing back and forth, splashing over the sides.

Ulysses examined the rope and pulley for the well. He checked for any cracks or wear, and once satisfied, set the rope back down.

A small piece of land had been plowed behind the cabin to be used as a garden. Ulysses dug his hands into the dirt and rubbed it between his palms. The soil was warm from the sun.

You really did think of everything didn’t you?

When he walked back inside the cabin Kalen was gone from the couch. Anne was packing up the medical supplies, grabbing the pink stained cotton balls lying on the floor and placed the unused materials back in the first aid box.

“How’s she doing?” Ulysses asked.

“She’s still not saying anything,” Anne said.

Ulysses watched her lock the latches on the medical kit and then look up at him. The sweat from her forehead caused strands of her hair to stick to her face.

“Thank you,” Anne said.

“I shouldn’t have let them go off by themselves,” Ulysses said.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Ray popped his head up from the basement door.

“Hey, guys, can I get a little help down here?” he asked.

Downstairs the glow from the lanterns lit up the bucket of water and workstation that Ray set up to test the water.

“I’m not sure I’m doing this right,” Ray said.

“Here,” Anne said taking the kit from him.

She grabbed the finger-length tubes and dipped them in the bucket. She filled five of them and dropped test strips into each one. She shook the tubes and let them sit.

“Each tube checks for something different?” Ray asked.

“Lead, pesticides, chlorine, nitrates, and pH levels,” Anne said pointing at each of the tubes. “Blue means they’re at a safe level, if they turn yellow, then they’re not.”

“How do you know how to do this?” Ray asked.

“Every time we came up to the cabin Mike would assign us different tasks. This was one of mine,” she said.

“If one of them does turn yellow can we fix it?” Ray asked.

“No,” Anne replied.

Anne looked at the pallets of bottled water by the food shelves. She counted them, doing the math in her head. If the well were tainted, then the four of them would only last a month before their water supply ran out.

When the test strips turned a light shade of blue they all let out a sigh of relief.

“Well, that’s one less thing we’ll have to worry about,” Ray said.

* * *

The sun was turning neon orange as it dipped into the horizon. Anne fired up the gas stove placing a few pots with water on them to a boil. Cans of green beans, corn, and chicken lined the counter.

Anne peeled the cans open and dumped them into the simmering water. She added a few spices to each, and let them heat up. Ray and Ulysses sat in the living room playing chess and Freddy had pulled out some of his toys he brought with him.

Anne walked down the hallway to Kalen’s door. It was closed. She stood in front of the door for a moment, wiping her hands on the front of her apron. Her stomach was in knots. She let a slow breath, then knocked on the door.

“Kalen?” Anne asked.

No answer. Anne opened the door slowly. Kalen was on her bed, lying on top of the sheets, her back facing the door.

Anne shut the door behind her when she entered and softly set herself down on the edge of Kalen’s bed. She stroked her daughter’s hair, letting the strands run through her fingertips.

“Honey, dinner will be ready soon.”

Kalen remained motionless. Anne brought her lips to Kalen’s ear.

“If you need anything, I’m here. Okay?”

Once dinner was ready, Freddy helped set the table and he, Anne, Ray, and Ulysses gathered around. Anne put together a separate plate and handed it to Freddy.

“Go take that to your sister,” she said.

Freddy grasped the plate with both hands and walked back down to his sister’s room. The door was cracked and he pushed it open with his shoulder.

“Kalen?” Freddy asked.

She was still curled up in a ball with her back to him. The curtains were drawn shut, blocking out what was left of the fading sunlight.

Freddy tiptoed into the room and placed the plate on the nightstand next to her, the steam rising from the piping hot plate.

“Mom made you some dinner,” he said.

Freddy stood there, his hands hanging awkwardly at his sides. He slowly walked up to the edge of her bed.

“I hope you feel better,” he said.

Once Freddy was gone Kalen turned around. She didn’t touch her food. She couldn’t remember a time in her life when she had felt worse.

* * *

The thunder crashed outside. The wind and rain battered the side of the cabin. Anne watched the rain smack against the window. The lighting flashed across the sky, reflecting in her eyes and illuminating the room.

She paced back and forth in the bedroom. She couldn’t sit still. Every time she settled into one place she became uncomfortable and had to move somewhere else. In between the cracks of thunder she would close her eyes and see the red flames engulfing her home. She saw the faces of her neighbors, their eyes wild and crazy with rage and fear. She felt the warmth of Mike’s lips on hers before she ran to the garage. Then she started to feel hot. She could feel the flames ripping through her as if she was there with Mike. She wrapped both of her arms around herself and fell onto the bed, the tears falling from her eyes.

Just when she felt exhausted the entire cabin rumbled and shook. She swung the bedroom door open and could hear the faint screams coming from the living room over the cracks of thunder and the howl of the wind. One of the ceiling beams fell and landed on the couch in the living room where Ray was sleeping.

Anne rushed over to him. Blood gushed all over the couch and floor. Ray’s shin was bent inward, snapped in half.

Ulysses came up from behind her and helped roll the log off Ray and it thudded on the floor. Blood poured from Ray’s leg onto the couch.

“Ulysses, help me take him down stairs,” Anne said.

Anne lifted Ray onto her shoulder supporting him. Ulysses came around and threw Ray’s other arm over his shoulder. The three of them hobbled over to the basement. On the way there Freddy poked his head out of his room.

“Stay in your room and keep the door shut,” Anne yelled.

Anne and Ulysses kept Ray steady bringing him down the steps of the basement. The lower half of his shin swung back and forth with each step, and with each swing Ray dug his hand harder into Anne’s shoulder.

Once they made it all the way down the steps Anne cleared a table and lit a few lanterns while Ulysses helped Ray lay down. Ray kept glancing down at his mangled leg. Anne pushed his head back flat on the table.

“Don’t look at it,” she said.

“What do you need?” Ulysses asked.

“Scissors,” Anne said.

Ray’s breathing accelerated. His body was shaking. The muscle in his jaw flexed from grinding his teeth together.

“You got anything for the pain?” Ray asked.

“Are you allergic to anything?” Anne asked.

“No.”

Ulysses handed Anne a pair of scissors. She hurried over to one of the medicine shelves and she opened the box and pulled out a bottle of oxycodone. She tore a bottle of water out of the package holding it and fed Ray the pill. He choked a little bit, but managed to get it down.

Anne ran the scissors across Ray’s jeans and ripped them apart from his knee to his ankle, exposing the wound. Bits of bone poked out through the skin, which was a deep shade of black and blue.

“Ray, I’m going to have to push some of the bone back in and then try and set it. I don’t know if it’s a clean break or not, but the wound will get worse if I don’t try,” Anne said.

“Give me… More drugs,” Ray said.

“I can’t. You’ve lost a lot of blood and if you have too much oxy it could drop your blood pressure even further and put you in cardiac arrest. Ulysses, give him something to bite on.”

Ulysses took his belt off; folding it a few times, then slide it into Ray’s mouth. Ray’s hands gripped the side of the table until his knuckles turned white.

Anne’s finger hovered over the bone. She pressed down. Ray’s body seized in tension on the table, his whole body shaking as the bone slid deeper into his leg until it disappeared. When the pressure from Anne’s finger stopped, Ray went limp on the table, passed out.

The crack of the bone resetting into place triggered an unconscious spasm from Ray. Anne grabbed a splint from another first aid bag.

“Get those straps at the top, Ulysses,” Anne instructed tying the splint firmly to Ray’s leg.

Anne cleaned the wound, wiping the blood away and dumping hydrogen peroxide over the cuts. She applied fresh bandages and checked Ray’s pulse.

“We’ll have to watch him through the night, make sure there wasn’t any internal bleeding,” Anne said.

She placed the back of her hand to Ray’s forehead, checking his temperature. She took a rag and wiped the sweat from his face, padding him gently.

“If his temperature spikes within the next twenty-four hours it means he has an infection. We should keep him down here tonight and move him as little as possible,” Anne said.

Anne knew that Ray wouldn’t be able to walk without assistance for the rest of his life. She did what she could, but without professional medical help the bone wouldn’t set right. If Ray got an infection though it wouldn’t matter, they didn’t have any antibiotics in their medical stash to fight it.

* * *

When Ulysses walked around the cabin the next morning he could see the full devastation from the storm. Multiple trees had toppled over throughout the forest. The tree that landed on the roof of the cabin was a thick pine.

Ulysses spent most of the morning clearing out the smaller branches on the roof. He chopped them down and tossed them to the ground to be used as firewood for later. Trimming the tree would also make it easier to move. With one of the support beams from the roof already damaged he wasn’t sure how well the roof would hold, or if the tree would come crashing through at any moment.

The afternoon heat was getting worse. Ulysses shirt was drenched in sweat. He swung the axe high, digging deeper into the thick trunk of the pine. He felt the wood handle of the axe slide through his hands with each blow. The strain on his face, the tightening of his back, his muscles fatigued from the exertion and hot summer sun. Finally, the massive trunk snapped in half.

With half the tree now leaning at a more easily leveraged angle, Ulysses climbed up on the roof and crept around the area where the rest of the tree still remained. His knees cracked as he bent low trying to put his body behind the lift. He strained, pushing the log from the roof to the ground.

Just like the tree, Ulysses collapsed after the encounter. He lay on his back, sucking in air. His chest heaved up and down, the heat from the sun barreling down on him. He focused on slowing his breath to a steady rhythm and letting his heart rate come down.

Once Ulysses’ felt he had controlled his breathing, he pushed himself up and took a look where the tree had crashed into the roof.

It wasn’t as bad as he thought. Only one of the logs on the roof had been cracked from the weight of the pine and the only hole it created didn’t penetrate all the way through the roof.

Ulysses climbed down the ladder and headed to the front of the cabin to grab some water. When he entered Anne was coming up from the basement, her bloody hands holding dirty gauze.

“How’s he doing?” Ulysses asked.

Anne tossed the old bandages into the waste bucket. The dark bags under her eyes dragged her face down.

“He’s getting a little warm. I’ve been giving him Ibuprofen to help with the fever and I’ve been redoing the dressings on his wound, but it’s still too soon to tell. How’s the roof?”

“Not as bad as I thought.”

Ulysses walked into the kitchen with a slight limp. He tried to play it off, but Anne noticed.

“Did you hurt yourself?” Anne asked.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, here, sit down,” she said pulling a chair out for him.

Anne helped him into the chair and grabbed a bottle of water out of the cabinet. Ulysses gulped it down. She disappeared into the basement and came back holding two pills and extended her hand to him.

Ulysses popped the pills into his mouth and leaned back in the chair gingerly.

“Your back?” Anne asked.

“Just tired,” Ulysses said.

“Ulysses, now’s not the time to be a hero. I can’t have two seriously injured men to take care of. I need you to be careful.”

Ulysses’ twirled the gold band around his finger. He smiled to himself.

“You’re just like her you know.”

“Like who?”

“My late wife Margaret.”

The chair creaked as Ulysses leaned forward. He rubbed his fingers along the callouses covering his palms, the flesh still pink from the friction of the wooden handle on the axe.

“She was the strongest woman I ever met. I remember the first time I saw her. I had just started engineering school. The farm next to her family’s needed a new barn and called the construction company I worked for. We went on our first date that night. Sandwiches by the river.”

Ulysses could still smell the mud on the riverbank. He could feel his bare feet, squishing into the mud. His hand finding hers for the first time and remembering how warm her skin was. The moonlight danced off her hair and her green eyes glowed in darkness.

“I wish I could have met her,” Anne said.

“She would have liked you,” Ulysses answered.

Freddy came into the kitchen, yawning.

“Who would have liked you, Mom?” Freddy asked.

“Grandma,” Anne said lifting Freddy into her arms and kissing his temple.

“Do you think she would have liked me?” Freddy asked.

“She would have loved you,” Ulysses replied.

“Well, I would love some breakfast,” Freddy said.

Anne set him down and he rushed over to the table behind Ulysses.

“I think we all would. Ulysses?” Anne asked.

“I’d love some,” Ulysses replied.

Day 6 (Biker Gang)

The motorcycles flew down the highway, scattered randomly along the road. Jake road in front, leading his men to whatever town came next. They’d left Cleveland behind to rot. They’d been riding for forty miles before they came across Carrollton, a small town just west of Pennsylvania in the middle of nowhere.

Whatever cars the town had were parked right where they were when the EMP blast hit. Jake led the Diablos onto Carrollton’s Main Street, past some of their local stores, and the Sheriff’s office, to the motel. The bikers pulled into the motel’s parking lot side by side. The locals came out of their shops. The sight of working transportation caused a lot of jaws to drop.

Jake cut the engine off and set the kickstand out, leaning the bike to the side. His face was red from the wind and his hair was blown back. His dark sunglasses reflected the townspeople moving toward him.

“Afternoon, folks,” Hank Murth said.

Hank Murth was an elderly man. He had walked out of the grocery store that bore his name. He had his apron on and the pistol hanging at his hip seemed out of place. He extended his hand to Jake, who ignored it.

The crowd around them grew. None of Jake’s men moved until he did, so they followed his lead, just waiting. Questions flooded the air:

“How did you guys get the bikes to work?”

“Is the rest of the country in trouble?”

“Where did you come from?”

“Is help on the way?”

Most of the townspeople were older. Their worn faces pleading for answers, worried about what the future would hold for them. Jake looked around and noticed more people leaving their stores, coming out in the street to meet them, but the only person he kept his eyes on was the Sheriff strutting down the sidewalk.

Sheriff Barnes was a good’ol boy if Jake ever saw one, all the way from his cowboy hat to his boots, and that polished badge shining in the sun. Two deputies dressed in similar fashion followed closely behind him.

“Well, I never thought I’d see the day where I’d be happy to have a group of bikers roll through my town,” Barnes said.

Jake looked the officers up and down. Their bellies protruded over their waists, their gun holster straps still covering their pistols, slowing them down if they had to draw. They were kind. They were weak.

“How many people do you have in town, Sheriff?” Jake asked.

“Oh, I’d say there’s probably fifty of us here right now, more if you count some of the surrounding farms.”

“You and your deputies have any trouble lately? Any shortages of anything?”

“Well, no, so far we’ve been okay.”

Jake pulled the knife from his side and jammed it into the Sheriff’s throat. The blood spurt over Jake’s arm as he dug the blade deeper. Jake pulled the blade out and the Sheriff dropped to the ground. The Sheriff’s blood drenched his shirt and dimmed the shine on his badge.

Before the deputies could react Frankie blasted them through the eyes with his pistol. Hank reached for his gun, but Jake drew his own pistol and shot Hank through the gut.

Hank barreled over to the ground and the rest of the crowd scattered. They ran for their stores, their homes, whatever cover they could find.

With the town’s law at Jake’s feet, and their blood pooling on the street, Jake turned to his men, specks of the Sheriff’s blood still fresh on his face.

“We take what we want, boys. This town is ours,” Jake said.

The Diablos cheered and made their way down Main Street. Jake had his men hit the hunting store first. They smashed the windows, broke the glass cases housing the weapons, and horded all the ammo they could find.

They all spread out, hunting down the townspeople like dogs. A few fought back, but there weren’t enough that did to cause any trouble. Jake and his club were twenty strong. They were hungry, vicious, and had nothing to lose.

Gunshots and screams filled the town’s streets. Jake could see people running down the highway. He gathered six of his men around him.

“You three take the north end and you three take the south. Anyone that tries to run for it you gun down, understand?” Jake asked.

They nodded and took off toward the ends of town. Jake flagged down Frankie.

“Clear out the motel,” Jake said.

Frankie ran through the small motel, smashing down doors. He cleared the first floor and made his way up to the second. Each room he checked was empty. He blasted the locks of the doors until he came across a family huddled in the corner of their room: a husband, wife, and three daughters.

The husband tried to keep his family behind him, shielding them from harm. They were all shaking. The husband was the first to stand and speak.

“P-please. We don’t w-want any trouble,” he said.

The smoke from Frankie’s gun barrel rose in the air next to him. He holstered his pistol, smiling. His left hand went for the blade on his side. He ran his fingers across the flat end of the steel right up to the tip.

The husband stepped forward, his hands trying to form fists. Frankie toyed with him, jerking forward to scare the man, keeping him on his toes. Each time Frankie moved, the wife and daughters behind him let out a yelp and with each yelp Frankie let out a throaty laugh.

When the husband finally made a move for the blade Frankie knocked his hand out of the way and thrust the five inches of steel into the husband’s stomach.

Frankie twisted and turned the knife in the husband’s gut. The husband’s hands groped Frankie, grasping onto him and trying to hold on to the last moments of life he had left.

Blood dribbled down the husband’s chin and then he collapsed on the carpet, coughing up blood, clutching the knife wound and trying to staunch the bleeding with his hands.

The wife crawled to him with tears running down her face. She held his face in her hands. His eyes stared blankly up at her. His lungs gasped for breath until finally the gasps stopped, his body lying motionless before her.

Drops of blood from Frankie’s knife dripped on the carpet next to him. He wiped the blood from the blade onto the bed sheets, smearing red stains at the foot of the bed.

“Well, aren’t you a pretty bunch,” Frankie said.

Frankie’s ragged black hair hung in mangled strands across his face. The sweat from a week’s worth without showering had let the grime on his skin build up and a strong odor surrounded his body. He pointed at the oldest daughter, Mary, who was no older than sixteen.

“You. Come here,” he said.

“No!” the mother cried, rushing back to her daughters.

Frankie moved slowly toward them. The daughters retreated further into the corner of the room by the sink and bathroom. All three daughters were crying, their mother spreading her arms wide, offering her body as the only protection she had to give.

“Come here,” Frankie repeated.

Frankie tossed the mother aside and seized Mary’s arm. The girl flailed as he threw her onto the bed covered with the bloodstains of her father.

“Wait!” the mother screamed.

Frankie pointed the pistol at the youngest daughter, Erin, and the mother stopped.

“Wait,” she said calmly. “Take me.”

She slowly unbuttoned her blouse, her fingers trembling and fumbling with each button. She walked slowly to him, taking her shirt off.

“Take me,” she repeated.

Frankie looked her up and down. The gun still pointed at Erin, while Mary lay on her back, frozen in fear on the bed.

“Just let them go,” the mother said.

She was standing directly in front of him now. Frankie ran the tip of his blade gently across the mother’s exposed flesh.

“Take off your pants,” Frankie ordered.

She undid the clip on her skirt and let it slide down her legs onto the ground. She kicked the skirt off of her bare feet. Small spasms shook her body as she stood there awkwardly in front of him.

Frankie grabbed her by the hair and threw her on the bed next to her daughter. The mother tried to push Mary off the bed, but Frankie pointed the pistol at her.

“No. She watches,” Frankie said smiling.

Frankie’s jeans dropped to the floor and he climbed on top of the mother. She turned her head to her daughters, their faces red and wet with tears. Her face was calm. She slowly mouthed, “close your eyes.”

The mattress rocked back and forth. Frankie’s grunts where loud and sharp. He kept his head down, his face buried into the mother’s neck, forcing his body onto hers.

The door to the motel room still hung open. Outside the sounds of gunfire and screams echoed in the distance.

The mom saw the open door and used her free hand to grab Mary’s arm. Mary opened her eyes, focusing only on her mother’s face. The mother made a quick nod toward the door and pointed to her other daughters crouching on the floor.

Mary nodded and gently crawled off the bed. She rushed over to Erin, and her middle sister Nancy, and grabbed the two of them.

The mother wrapped her arms around Frankie’s back, her lower lip quivering as she coaxed him on.

“Yes,” she whispered

“You like that, bitch?”

Frankie thrust his body harder into her and the mother cried in pain as she watched her daughter’s slip out the door.

The three girls ran down the concrete sidewalk outside the rooms, ducking below the windows when they saw the doors open and the sounds of other bikers inside.

Mary led the pack, checking each open door they passed, making sure it was safe. The only one that kept glancing back to where they’d left their mother was Erin.

All of them were barefoot and once they made it to the parking lot Mary picked up Erin and they sprinted across the cracked pavement, avoiding the line of bikes parked near the front.

They made it onto Main Street and ran inside the first store they came across. The windows were smashed to Murth’s Grocery and inside a body lay across the tile, a trail of blood following it from the street.

Hank Murth was on his back, gasping for breath when the three girls came in. The bell at the top of the glass door jingled when they entered. The girls gasped at the sight of the body.

“Mary, what are we going to do? What about mom?” Nancy said.

Mary whipped around, her face angry, and grabbed Nancy by the shoulder’s and shook her violently.

“Will you shut up?” Mary screamed.

Nancy broke down. She collapsed to the floor, weeping.

“I’m sorry, Nancy. I just…” Mary said.

The crack in Mary’s voice brought on sobs of her own. She had no idea where she was going, what she needed to do to protect her sisters, or how to help her mother. She closed her eyes, trying to the get the picture of her mother lying on the bed out of her mind.

“In the back,” Hank said.

Hank was lifting a bloody, shaking hand, pointing behind him. His breaths were short, and sporadic. His lungs wheezed with effort, trying to stay alive.

“There’s a… room… in the back… stay there,” Hank said.

The back of the store was dimly lit.

“It’s… Safe,” Hank said.

Mary was out of options. She grabbed her sisters and headed to the back of the store. A small sliver of light came from under the crack of a door. Mary turned the doorknob and pushed it open.

It must have been a room where the old man was living. There was a small cot on the far side of the room when they entered. A desk with a kerosene lamp on it, mirror, sink, and closet door filled the rest of the tiny space.

Mary locked the door behind her. Nancy picked Erin up and put her on the bed, while Mary paced back and forth.

“What do we do now?” Nancy asked.

“I don’t know,” Mary said.

“When do we get to see Mom and Dad again?” Erin asked.

Mary froze in the middle of the room. Nancy looked back at Erin, whose legs swung on the edge of the bed.

Erin’s eyes had the uncertainty and naivetés only a four year old could have.

“Erin, did you see what happened?” Mary asked.

“I saw daddy fall down and hold his stomach like he had a tummy ache, and then I saw mom change her clothes when that man was talking to you,” Erin said.

“Daddy did fall down, but it wasn’t because he had a tummy ache. Erin, you won’t see daddy again.”

“Why?”

“Dad’s… Dead. Do you know what that means?”

“ Yes. Kimmy Sears in my class said her dad died of cancer and that she only gets to go and visit his grave. Is that what we have to do now?”

Nancy started crying. She buried her face in her hands, her shoulder’s shaking violently from her sobs.

Mary pulled Nancy to her. She wrapped her arms around her sister, holding her and stroking her hair.

“Yes, that’s what we have to do now,” Mary said.

The crash of glass hitting the floor spun all of them around to the door of the room. Mary dimmed the lamp.

“Shh,” Mary said.

Mary unlocked the door and cracked it open, trying to see what happened.

Two bikers entered, crunching pieces of glass under their boots.

“Well, look here, Pete. This old bastard’s still alive,” Don said.

“Resilient bag of bones isn’t he?” Pete asked.

“Please…” Hank said.

One of the bikers pulled his pistol out. The hammer cocked back and he pointed it right at the old man’s face. Mary covered her mouth, her eyes watering. The biker squeezed the trigger and the gunshot blasted through Hank’s head. His body went limp. Mary gasped.

“Hey, did you here that?” Pete asked.

“Hear what?”

“It came from the back.”

Mary’s heart beat faster. She retreated back into the room and told Erin and Nancy to hide under the cot. Mary ran to the closet and crammed herself inside. The close was to small for her to close all of the way, so she had to leave a sliver of it open.

“It was in here,” Pete said.

The door creaked open. Through the crack she could see the barrel of their guns poking around the room.

“I didn’t hear anything, Pete,” Don said.

Pete let out a whistle.

“The old man didn’t have much did he? Look at this shit hole,” Pete said.

Each step of their boots around the tiny room caused Mary to shudder. She breathed as softly as she could, scared to even move. She clutched the clothes hanging around her with both hands, making sure they stayed motionless.

She could only make out parts of their faces. One of the bikers turned and she noticed a flaming devil on the back of his jacket. The devil had his head thrown back, laughing.

“C’mon, Pete, let’s get out of here. The way this place looks it was probably rats,” Don said.

“All right.”

Mary watched both of them leave through the cracked door of the closet. Once she couldn’t hear the sound of their boots anymore she exhaled. Nancy and Erin crawled out from under the bed.

“C’mon, we need to get out of here,” Mary said.

They rushed out the back door of the grocery. They spilled out onto a small sidewalk next to a massive field of tall grass, five feet high. Mary led them behind the Main Street buildings, sprinting toward the end. Once they reached the edge of the buildings, Mary slowed down.

She peered her head around the brick wall and saw bikers smashing the storefront windows, carrying people to the middle of the street and executing them on their knees. Then two bikers spotted her.

“Hey!”

Mary grabbed Nancy and Erin’s hand. She pulled them along, searching for a place to hide behind the stores. She jiggled the handle of each door she passed. They were all locked.

The shouts from the bikers were getting closer. She didn’t know where to go. She didn’t know where to hide. She took her sisters and ran into the tall grass as far as she could and then dropped to the ground, pulling both of her sisters with her.

The grass was thick. Mary couldn’t see anything around her or between the tall brown and green blades. She kept her hand over Erin’s mouth to silence her sobs.

“Do you see them?”

“They’re not in the buildings.”

“Where’d they run off to?”

“Check the grass.”

Mary brought her finger to her lips. She hushed them both quietly. All three of their bodies were shaking. Mary covered her own mouth with her hand; afraid she might give away their spot. The voices of the bikers taunted them.

“Come out come out wherever you are.”

“We’re not going to hurt you.”

“Yeah, why don’t you come out to play?”

Mary could hear the movement of grass being swept aside and the steps of their boots on the blades, rocks, and dirt. All of a sudden she could see the grass move and then…

“Hey!” a distant voice shouted.

“What?”

The biker’s foot was only twelve inches away from Mary’s face. She looked up, but couldn’t see the man’s face through the blades of grass.

“Jake wants everybody back now. Quit jackin off over there and head to the motel.”

“All right.”

The grass shifted, but stopped as the sound of the biker’s steps faded away from her. Mary kept her hand over her and Erin’s mouth for a few more minutes until she was sure she they were gone.

Mary rolled onto her back. The grass scratched against her exposed arms and legs. Erin crawled up next to her and Nancy’s breathing was quick as she hyperventilated.

“Mary,” she said.

“Yeah.”

“What do we do now? Where do we go?”

Erin rested her head on Mary’s chest. Mary had her eyes closed and could feel the warm sun shining down on her. Her body felt tired, expended.

“Let’s just lie here a few more minutes,” Mary said.

Day 9 (Mike’s Journey)

The airport terminal was stuffy, and the springs in Mike’s cot squeaked when he rolled over. It smelled like a musty towel, but it beat lying on the ground. He pushed himself off the cot and rested his boots on the floor. He’d slept with his shoes on ever since the fire at his house.

Nelson and Sean were still sleeping on their cots and the To family, Fay, and Tom were sound asleep as well.

Mike lighted a candle and weaved around the cots toward the kitchen door. He pulled his pocket watch out, running his fingers along the smooth surface before he opened it, checking the time. 7a.m. The watch snapped shut and he quietly pushed the door open and headed toward the front to meet Clarence.

Clarence sat crouched behind one of the check-in counters. He leaned up against the wall with a rifle over his lap. Whoever was on watch could see the entire front of the airport and could stay well hidden from the vantage point he had chosen.

“How was your shift?” Mike asked.

“Quiet. One guy walked by, but never came in.”

“What would you have done if he had?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Mike could see the struggle on his face. It was something Mike had experienced himself, back in his neighborhood. He tried helping. He tried giving advice, but it fell against deaf ears. When the people around you begging for help resort to strangling you, it’s time to fight back. Mike hoped that it wouldn’t come to that for Clarence.

“The longer this goes on the more desperate people will become,” Mike said.

“I know.”

Mike watched Clarence fumble the rifle awkwardly in his hands.

“You know I’ve never even fired one of these things before,” Clarence said.

“You haven’t?”

“Firearm training isn’t a part of the TSA program.”

Mike grabbed the rifle. He flipped it on its side exposing the safety lever and making sure it was clicked on and pointed away from them.

“Rule number one when handling guns. Never point it at another person unless you’re ready to pull the trigger.”

Mike brought the rifle up to his shoulder and peered through the sights, scanning the front of the building.

“When you aim you always want to bring the gun to your eyes, not the other way around. When you’re handling a rifle or shotgun keep the butt of the gun firmly tucked against your shoulder. It’ll help with the recoil when you fire. When it’s time to shoot, you want to squeeze the trigger. Don’t pull it,” Mike said.

Mike handed the gun back to Clarence. Mike watched him keep the end of the barrel away from the two of them and he brought the rifle up to his shoulder.

“And know where the safety is. You don’t want to be in a situation where you forget it’s on and when you go to squeeze the trigger nothing happens,” Mike said.

Clarence’s thumb found the lever on the side of the rifle and flicked the safety off. He put his finger on the trigger.

“Wait,” Mike said.

Clarence lowered the rifle, taking his hand off the trigger.

“Rule number two: never put your finger on the trigger unless you’re ready to fire. Just keep your finger extended beyond the trigger until you’re ready to shoot,” Mike said.

“Right,” Clarence said.

Mike grabbed the rifle out of Clarence’s hand and clicked the safety back on. He threw the rifle strap over his shoulder and clapped Clarence on the back.

“We’ll take it out back for target practice after breakfast,” Mike said.

“You’ve taught people to shoot before?”

Mike paused, trying to overcome the lump forming in his throat.

“Yes.”

* * *

Tom and Fay gathered the empty wrappers and cans from breakfast and threw them in the garbage, which was overflowing.

“It’s your turn to take it out,” Tom said.

“Fine,” Fay replied.

Fay tied the open ends of the trash bag together and lifted it out of the can. The bag caught on a crack in the can and split open, dumping trash all over the floor.

“Goddamnit,” Fay yelled.

Tom laughed. Walking back through the kitchen, his laughter echoing through the food court.

Fay threw up a middle finger. She picked up the pieces of trash and dumped them back into the can. Once the mess was cleaned up she dragged the can to the front of the airport.

The can slid across the pavement until she reached the dumpster on the side of the building. She placed the can right next to it, and just then heard a gunshot go off. She immediately ducked for cover.

“Shit,” she murmured.

She glanced around looking for the source of the shot, keeping her head covered. She squinted further down the tarmac and saw Clarence, rifle in hand with Mike behind him, aiming at something in the distance.

Fay covered her ears as the gunshots continued to ring out. She walked to them and could see that both Mike and Clarence had ear protection on. She screamed their names and when that didn’t work she threw an empty soup can at them. She hit Mike square in the back.

Mike took the earpieces off. Clarence clicked the safety on and leaned the rifle up against his shoulder.

“What the hell are you two doing?” Fay asked.

“Mike’s teaching me how to shoot,” Clarence said.

“He’s pretty good,” Mike said.

“Well, it took me a couple tries, but I finally got one.”

Fay walked up to them and saw a row of soup cans set up thirty yards away on top of a luggage carrier.

“You really think this is a good idea? I thought we weren’t supposed to bring attention to ourselves,” Fay said.

“Most people run away from gunshots, not toward them,” Mike said.

Fay grabbed the earpiece off Clarence’s head.

“Where’d you get these?” Fay asked.

“Found them in the ground control locker rooms,” Clarence said.

“Can I try?” Fay asked.

“Sure,” Mike said.

Fay put the earpieces on and Mike grabbed the rifle from Clarence. He showed her how to hold it and gave her the same advice he’d given to Clarence.

Fay brought the rifle up to her eyes. She kept the stock snug against her shoulder. Her finger hovered until she finally rested it gently over the trigger. The sights along the end of the rifle shook slightly as she tried to balance the gun. Once the gun felt steady she lined up her shot, squeezed the trigger, and the can went flying.

“Shit,” Clarence said.

“Nice shot. You’re a natural,” Mike said.

“What?” Fay screamed.

Mike patted her on the shoulder and gave her a thumb up. She smiled and then noticed the crowd behind her. Everyone had gathered outside. They were all looking at her and cheering. Fay’s smile slowly faded. She handed the rifle back to Mike and took her ear protection off.

“Where are you going’?” Clarence asked.

Fay ignored him. She ran between Jung and Jenna and headed for the side door, which led her to the food court. Once she was inside she sat on her cot, her shoulder feeling the strain from the recoil of the rifle.

Clarence walked in behind her, panting from the short jog he made running after her.

“What was that about?” he asked.

“Do we have any more Ibuprofen?” Fay asked.

“I think so, but, Fay, why’d you leave like that?”

“Where is it? I don’t want my shoulder to be too sore.”

“Fay.”

“What?”

Fay’s voice was harsh, accusing. She saw the open look of apology across Clarence’s face. He held his hands out and sat down on the cot next to her.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.”

“It was a lucky shot. That’s all.”

“That’s why you ran? Because you hit the can?”

“No.”

“Then why’d you take off like that?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fay…”

“I don’t want to talk about it!”

Fay bolted from the cot, leaving Clarence by himself. She ran through the food court and past the check-in desks by the front entrance of the airport, her feet carrying her to the other side of the airport. She ran around security ropes and jumped over fallen displays until there wasn’t anywhere left to run. She leaned her hands up against the wall, her chest heaving, trying to catch her breath.

She spun around and slammed her back against the wall and slid down. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and rested her head against her knees.

* * *

Mike dropped small amounts of oil along the tip of the barrel, then wiped it down with a rag. Nelson watched Mike’s movements. They were precise, rhythmic.

“What do we do now?” Nelson asked.

“We leave tomorrow. I can’t afford to stay here another day,” Mike said.

“But what about these people?”

“Nelson, the cabin was built for me and my family. It can hold five people at the most. Bringing you and Sean along with me is already pushing it. I can’t show up with another seven people.”

“These people helped us. They fed us. Took us in.”

“These people stayed here and hoarded as much food as they could.”

“But they said they’re leaving soon too. Why don’t we ask where they’re going? Maybe it’s better than the cabin?”

“My family isn’t wherever it is they’re going. My family is at the cabin. If you want to go with them you’re more than welcome, but tomorrow morning I’m leaving with or without you and Sean. End of discussion.”

Mike finished wiping down the rifle and slung it over his shoulder. He walked back into the food court through the side door. Jung and Jenna To were watching their two children play when he walked in. Jung saw him and made a beeline for him.

“Mike,” he said.

“I’m busy,” Mike said, grabbing one of the lanterns from the Burger King counter.

“Please, wait.”

Jung put his hand on Mike’s chest stopping him and blocking his path.

“Let my family come with you,” Jung said.

“Jung, I don’t have anywhere for your family to go.”

“The cabin, right? You’re going to the cabin?”

Nelson.

“Look, Jung, whatever it is you think I can help you with I can’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t,” Mike said and then moved to the side and ran past him.

Jung caught up with him as Mike headed back to the weapons depot where Clarence had shown him the rifles.

“We were heading back home to China when everything stopped working.”

“Isn’t your wife American? Doesn’t she have family here?”

“She does, but they’re in Florida. We were here on vacation.”

“You wanted to go vacation in Pittsburgh?”

“New York. We were here as part of a layover.”

The deeper they went into the airport the darker it became. Mike flicked on the lantern. The flame ignited casting an orange glow around the two of them and lighting their path.

Clarence and the rest of the group hadn’t ventured into the dark portions of the airport because of the bodies. When they came out of the TSA security room after the rioting started they searched for supplies, and the only thing they found deep within the terminals were corpses.

You could barely see them in the darkness, but the smell was overpowering. The rotting flesh baking for the past week in the unventilated, un-air conditioned depths of the airport sent a fowl stench in the air. The sour, bitter musk hit you like a brick wall.

By the time Mike and Jung reached the weapons holding both of them were gagging, covering their noes and mouth, with their shirts, but it did no good.

The inside of the weapons holding was practically barren when they checked it earlier. Most of the weapons had been picked over, but a few rifles, a stack of boxes with ammunition, and a cleaning kit still remained.

“Grab those rifles over there,” Mike said.

“Mike, please. My family can’t stay here. If there were help coming it would have been here by now. If we can’t get somewhere safe we’ll end up like those people out there.”

The lantern swung in Mike’s grip. The light danced across Jung’s face, which was filled with desperation, a look he’d seen too often over the past week.

“You pull your weight, each of you. Everyone has a job. No one gets special treatment. Understand?”

Jung nodded.

“Good. Now, grab the rifles.”

* * *

The To family, Nelson, Sean, Tom, Clarence, and Mike sat around one of the tables in the food court. The sun had gone down and they were swallowing down cans of ham and black beans. Fay was on watch.

Mike chose to tell the rest of the group about the cabin. They all jumped at the chance. Mike instructed each of them to pack enough food and supplies for a two-day walk. Everyone dumped any luggage they had and immediately started packing.

“After we leave in the morning it’ll be important for us not to stop. I want to make sure we get there as quickly and safely as possible,” Mike said.

“Will it really take two days?” Tom asked.

“Yes, and it could take more if anything slows us down,” Mike answered.

“What’s it like out there now?” Jenna asked.

“The road? Dangerous,” Mike answered.

“Do you think we’ll get mugged like you and Nelson?” Clarence asked.

“Not if we stay smart,” Mike answered.

“Guys, we’ll be fine. Mike knows what he’s doing. Trust me,” Nelson said.

Trust him. Mike looked at the faces staring at him and a pang of guilt shot through him. The last time he helped people they turned against him and separated him from his family. He wasn’t going to let a gang of bandits stand between him and his family ever again. If it came down to it he would sacrifice the lot of them to reach his family.

After dinner, it was time for Mike to relieve Fay of her watch. She was posted in the corner where she was supposed to be, vigilantly staring into the night.

“Grab some dinner,” Mike said.

“Thanks.”

Fay put her hand out and Mike helped her up. She handed him the rifle, but before she turned to go he stopped her.

“You sure you never used a rifle before?” Mike asked.

“No. That was my first time.”

“Well, it was quite a shot.”

“Thanks. And thanks for saving us.”

“I haven’t saved anyone.”

“Well, you’re doing more than most would… More than I would.”

The last words were said to herself, and Mike could see from her reaction they weren’t meant to be said aloud.

“Do you know why I took off today after I hit the can?” Fay asked.

“No.”

“It was because I saw the look on everyone’s faces. They saw that I could do something that they couldn’t. They saw that I could be someone to protect them. They thought I was someone who could keep them safe.”

“Why did that make you run?”

“Because if I didn’t keep them safe, and I knew how to do it, then I failed. So, that’s why you’ve already saved us. You’re not afraid.”

Mike sat down as Fay turned to leave. He stared out into the night. The moon was full, so he could see clearly. He thought about what Fay had said. She was wrong. He was afraid, but it wasn’t the type of fear that comes with indifference, it was the fear that comes with action. He knew what he was capable of. He remembered how easily he had pulled the trigger on the neighbors attacking his house. He could see the blood spilling onto the grass of his lawn, turning everything crimson.

He cradled the rifle in his lap and rested his head back against the wall. He pushed the rest out of his mind with one single thought: get to my family.

Day 9 (The Cabin)

“Damnit, Ulysses, will you let me finish what I’m saying!” Ray screamed.

Ray propped himself up on his elbows from the couch. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Anne tried to ease him back down onto the couch, but he pushed her away.

“You have no idea what’s in that town. It could be overrun,” Ray said.

Ulysses put in a few bottles of water and a days ration worth of food into the satchel. He pulled the strap of the bag over his head and let if fall across his chest. A holster rested on the counter, the pistol’s grip sticking out. He slung it around his waist and clipped the belt together.

“Maybe I don’t know what’s in town, but I do know what’ll happen if your fever keeps going the way it has,” Ulysses said.

Ray’s arms were shaking from the exertion of keeping himself upright. His elbow gave way and he collapsed back on the couch. The room felt like it was spinning. His head swayed back and forth. He tried to collect his thoughts. Before he could come up with a rebuttal he felt a hand on his chest and Ulysses’ face came in and out of focus.

“I’m going, Raymond,” Ulysses said.

“Remember what I told you,” Anne said.

“I’ll be fine.”

Ulysses walked out of the door and down the dirt path that winded up to the cabin. The town was only a mile and a half away.

The morning sun wasn’t yet hot and the trees around him provided nice shade. His boots crunched the twigs and leaves on the ground. Along the way he saw a deer and a few turkeys. Good hunting.

Once Ulysses made it out of the tree line and back onto the highway, he headed west to the town of Carrollton. He could see the small outline of the buildings on Main Street in the distance. The tall fields of grass surrounding the town stretched out to the forest tree lines surrounding it.

The road was completely clear with the exception of a tractor that had shut down in the middle of the road, blocking both lanes. Ulysses glanced up into the cab window. He climbed up and opened the door taking a look inside. Except for a pair of gloves on the seat, it was empty.

From his elevated position, he was able to see into the distance. He looked for signs of any farms in the distance, but was disappointed when he could find nothing. He jumped back down from the tractor and continued his journey into town.

The buildings grew larger the closer he came. The sun had crept higher into the sky, and the heat was bearing down on him now. The cool of the morning was disappearing. He reached into his pack and pulled out one of the bottles of water he packed. He took a sip. The town was only another one hundred yards away.

Ulysses squinted his eyes at lumps scattered on Main Street. At first he couldn’t tell what they were, then he glanced up into the sky and saw the buzzards circling. His pace slowed. He glanced around the buildings looking for signs of any people. He edged along the side of the road, moving along in the tall grass for cover.

The only part of him exposed was the top of his head. His eyes scanned above the grass looking for anyone that might have seen him coming. He approached the stores on the right side of Main Street and waited on the edge where the tall grass ended and the clearing began.

There was no movement in the town, so Ulysses kept low and ran up to the side of the first store. He followed the edge of the building’s wall to the main road.

The buzzards overhead squawked, still circling the rotting flesh down below. Ulysses turned his focus to the storefronts. Most of their windows had been smashed in. None of those close by was a pharmacy.

Ulysses adjusted the strap along his chest and mapped out a route in his mind. There were enough cars for him to hide behind, so he’d have to pass each store carefully, checking to see if there was anyone inside.

He sprinted to the other side of the street and knelt down by a car. He put his hands on the hood, but the removed them quickly. The metal on the car was scorching.

Ulysses crept along the storefronts, checking inside each window before he passed. Each one he looked into was ransacked. He kept his eyes peeled for a pharmacy and then, halfway down Main Street he finally saw it.

The pharmacy windows were smashed, but its green painted letters glistened in the sun. Ulysses kept his hand close to the holster on his hip as he moved toward the pharmacy.

As he approached the motel he could hear voices in the distance. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the murmuring grew louder. Ulysses stopped at the corner of the building right before the motel. Two bikers came into the parking lot.

“The dumb bitch is still here. I’m surprised she hasn’t taken off yet.”

“How the hell is she supposed to escape when she’s got another guy on her every twenty minutes?”

“You try her out?”

“Yeah, I’ve had better, but it wasn’t bad.”

The sound of their boots and voices started to fade. Ulysses grabbed the pistol from his holster. He clicked the safety off and glanced around the corner. He saw the backside of the two men he had overheard heading to the far end of the motel and then they disappeared through one of the doors.

Ulysses waited to see if someone else would come outside, but no one did. A car sat out front of the motel in the street, riddled with bullets. He made a dash for it, crouching behind the engine. His fingers gripped the gunshot holes in the passenger door.

Another car sat parked in front of the pharmacy. He glanced back through the window of the car, checking to see if anyone was watching. When he took off running his knees popped and when he reached the curb of the sidewalk he tripped. The pistol flew from his hand and skidded across the sidewalk.

He pushed himself off the pavement, wincing. He grabbed the pistol and leaned back against a building wall. He looked to see if anyone saw him. Nothing. He panted heavily trying to catch his breath. He looked down at his knee and his torn jeans. The skin peeled off revealing a bloody spot. He reached out to touch it, then recoiled.

“Damnit.”

He grabbed the side of the car for support and pushed himself up on his good leg. He limped over to the pharmacy door. The frame was busted and it swung open crooked when he pushed it. Glass crunched under his boots. He kept the pistol up, scanning the abandoned store.

Most of the shelves were smashed. The tip of his boot kicked an empty prescription bottle and it rolled across the floor. He grabbed the bag and pulled out the piece of paper with the name of the antibiotics that Anne told him to find.

His fingers fumbled through the bottles of pills. They rattled as he spun them around, holding each of them to the light from the window checking the labels. He scanned the first wall, found nothing, then moved on to the next.

He went through all of the shelves, scraping his hands reaching through the broken glass cabinets that had been locked. Finally, Ulysses brought one of the bottles to the window, checked the label, and gave a sigh.

Ulysses tossed the bottle into his bag and made a step toward the exit when he saw three bikers head out of their room in the motel and walk across the parking lot. Ulysses slid behind the wall next to the door. He inched to the edge of the broken window and peered out through the jagged edges of glass.

“Hold on, Frankie, I’m gonna go grab some more of that shit out of the pharmacy. I’ll meet you guys over there.”

“All right, Garrett.”

Two of them drifted off further down the road and Garret made a beeline for the pharmacy. Ulysses tried to move, but he his leg didn’t respond fast enough to hide. When Garrett walked through the door Ulysses hit him in the back of the head with his pistol.

Garret stumbled into the counter and pulled out his piece. Ulysses squeezed his trigger and shot Garrett in the leg and stomach. He squeezed the trigger again sending a bullet through Garret’s chest, dropping him to the floor.

Ulysses could hear the shouts and the sound of boots coming in his direction. He hobbled around Garrett’s body and made his way to the back of the store. Each step sent a knife digging into his knee and then ran all the way up to his hip. He pushed himself as fast as he could go. He swung the back door open and stepped outside, the sun shining bright in the blue sky. He glanced around for any place he could hide. He looked to his left. Nothing. He looked right. Nothing. The tall grass in front of him was the only place that offered any cover.

Ulysses limped through the grass for twenty feet, then dropped to the ground. He crawled, spreading the grass apart, trying to see in front of him when he found himself looking into the eyes of a young girl, frozen in shock, lying hidden in the grass.

“Spread out! I want the head of whatever prick did this on a steak before lunch!” Frankie said.

“Alright, Frankie.”

Ulysses brought his finger to his lips. The girl nodded. Ulysses saw some other movement behind her and then Nancy’s and Erin’s eyes stared back at him, through the grass.

The bikers swept through the tall grass, searching for them.

“Frankie, this shit is thick. It could take a while before we find them.”

“Then you can be the one to tell Jake why you let someone get away with killing one of our brothers.”

* * *

It was an hour before the bikers gave up their search. The bikers disappeared and Ulysses finally let his body relax. He let his head rest on the ground for a moment. He felt the cool Earth, with its rocks and pebbles under his belly. He rolled onto his back, wincing from the pain in his knee.

“Are you girls okay?” Ulysses asked.

“We’re not hurt,” Mary said.

“If we can get to the edge of town we can follow the highway to my cabin. You three can come with me,” Ulysses said.

He saw her hesitation as she stared at the pistol in his hand. He holstered it.

“My family is there. It’s safe. I promise.”

“Mary, I don’t know if we should go. What about mom?” Nancy asked.

“We can come back for your mom, but we’ll need help,” Ulysses said.

“You promise we can come back for her?” Mary asked.

“Promise.”

Ulysses noticed the dirt smeared on their faces, the scratches and cuts from the rocks and grass around them, the dark circles under their eyes, their sunburnt faces. These girls had been here for a while.

“Okay,” Mary said.

“Stay low and follow me,” Ulysses said.

Each time Ulysses’ knee hit the ground while he crawled, a shot of pain shot through his entire leg. After thirty yards he collapsed on his side. It felt like a pad of spikes was sticking into knee.

“Are you all right?” Mary asked.

Ulysses nodded. He led the girls through the grass, Ulysses having to stop every now and then to rest.

“How much longer?” Mary asked.

“Shouldn’t be much further,” Ulysses answered. He poked his head over the grass and saw they were even with the end of the stores on Main Street.

“The highway is just another twenty yards. We’ll want to stay in the grass for a little ways before we start walking on the road in case they have people keeping watch,” he said.

They traveled up the side of the highway a little further, crawling along the grass, avoiding rocks, and on the watch for snakes. Ulysses checked behind them one more time to see how far they were from the town. It was over a hundred yards behind them, so Ulysses motioned for them to get on the road and the three of them moved as fast as they could. Ulysses hobbled trying to keep up and Mary went back and she put his arm around her shoulder to help steady him.

* * *

Jake slammed the knife onto the table. The men around him had their heads down, not daring to look him in the face.

“You’re telling me three girls did this?” Jake asked.

“Maybe they thought they could get their mom back,” Frankie answered.

Jake stared Frankie down. He motioned for the other two bikers to leave the room and they shut the door behind them. Jake walked over to Frankie, looking behind him at the closed door. The room was hot and stuffy. Jake put his hand on Frankie’s shoulder.

“You’re getting sloppy, Frankie,” Jake said.

“Jake, I’m sorry.”

Jake patted Frankie’s cheeks softly and then turned his back to him.

“I know you are,” Jake said.

Jake sent his fist to the side of Frankie’s jaw, sending him to the ground with a thud. Jake picked him up by his cut and threw him into the mirror above the dresser, shattering it to pieces. Jake picked Frankie up by his hair and yanked his head back.

“You’re letting a group of girls get the better of you? I want you to find them and bring them to me, do you understand?”

Frankie nodded. Jake let go of his hair and pushed him backwards.

“Tell the boys we’ll have Garrett’s wake tonight,” Jake said.

* * *

Kalen sat on the end of her bed, staring out the cabin window. The sun was breaking through the trees, sending beams of light into her room. Her fingers rubbed the bruises around her neck. The flesh was still tender. Whenever she moved she could feel the strain of her muscles and tendons. Her lip was still slightly swollen on the bottom corner.

She fell back on the bed, a faint memory of the day before, of the woods and being dragged into them by a strange man. She didn’t feel like moving. She hadn’t felt like talking. Every time her mom came in the room to speak with her she shut down. She knew her mom was trying to help, but there wasn’t anything that she could tell her that would make her feel better.

She hadn’t slept for more than a few hours a night since they arrived at the cabin, and the hours she did rest were distressing. When she closed her eyes all she could see was him on top of her. She could feel his hands gripping her neck, the weight of his body forcing himself on her, the feel of his unwanted hands.

Then, she would wake. Her heart would be pounding, her hands trying to free a grip that wasn’t there. The attack replayed in her mind over and over. She tried to remember everything, but pieces were missing. Her last visible thought was of the man on top of her, his hands around her neck and the screams of her mother in the distance. After that she could only remember waking up in the Jeep with the blanket over her.

Kalen reached into the drawer of the nightstand next to her and pulled out a bottle of pills. Her hands were shaky as she opened the top of the bottle. The label on the side read “Oxycodone.” The once full bottle was already half empty.

She popped three of the pills in her mouth letting her body go numb. Her heart rate started to come back down; the rolling weight of dullness fell upon her. Her thoughts started to scramble. She couldn’t remember what she was thinking about anymore. She could only feel herself sinking into the bed beneath her and the warm sun beating on her legs through the window.

The crash of the front door swinging open snapped her out of her daze. She could hear the shuffling of feet and the sliding of furniture. There were voices she couldn’t recognize.

Her legs felt heavy when she moved them. Her whole body was heavy. She moved toward the door of her room, slightly swaying back and forth. When she reached for the doorknob everything seemed to move in slow motion.

Kalen’s hands padded along the walls of the hallway, as she tried to steady herself. She could see people moving in the living room. She saw two young girls staring back at her, their faces smudged in dirt and their nightgowns covered in grass and mud.

The two girls were holding each other’s hands. That’s all Kalen could focus on. Then there was a slight buzzing in her ears. Her eyes shifted from the two small hands laced together to her mother mouthing words at her, until finally the sound broke through the humming in her mind.

“Kalen!” Anne said.

“What?” Kalen asked.

“Grab the antibiotics out of Grandpa’s bag and a bottle of water out of the kitchen and give them to Ray.”

“Okay.”

Kalen tried to focus on the task. She made herself walk to the bag, search it until she heard the sound of pills rattling in a bottle, then put one foot in front of the other to grab a bottle of water from the cabinet.

On the walk back a third girl was staring at her. She was around Kalen’s age, a little bit taller than she was though, and had the same dirt smudged face as the younger girls. The three of them looked alike.

Kalen twisted the top of the bottle off. Ray’s face was dripping with sweat. She could feel the heat coming off of his body just standing next to him. She shut her eyes, hard. Her thoughts felt jumbled. She tried focusing on the task at hand.

Tilt his head up. Give him the pill. Have him drink the water.

She recited it a few more times in her head, making sure she had it correctly. She opened her eyes and tilted Ray’s head up. His mouth opened and she placed the pill on his tongue. She placed the bottle of the rim to his lips. She slowly tilted the water into his mouth. Most of it went down his chin and onto his shirt, but enough made it into his mouth for him to swallow the pill.

She fell onto the floor, her butt landing hard against the wooden planks. Her thoughts became jumbled again. She felt a hand pulling her up, then pushing her down the hallway. She felt the hand guide her into bed where she collapsed into a dreamless sleep she desperately needed.

* * *

The room was dark when Kalen opened her eyes. The sunlight that had come through the window earlier in the day had been replaced by the silver glow of the moon. The pills had worn off. She started to remember again. She reached for the drawer of the nightstand.

The familiar rattle of pills was gone. She pulled the drawer open further, her hand running along the bare sides and bottom. Nothing.

A glow of light from under her door caught her attention. The glow faded, as if moving down the hall. When she opened the door she saw a girl, around her age, her face lit by candlelight. She looked familiar.

“Hi,” Mary said.

“Hi.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you up. I was just getting some water.”

“You came in with my grandfather earlier today didn’t you?”

“Yeah. He found us in town and brought us up here.”

“I’m Kalen.”

“Mary.”

The two girls shook hands. Kalen could feel the dryness in her mouth. She followed Mary to the kitchen for some water.

Kalen tipped the bottle back and downed half of it immediately. She didn’t realize how thirsty she was until the water hit her lips. Her stomach growled.

“I think there was still some meat left over from dinner,” Mary said.

Anne had cooked some of the canned chicken from the supplies downstairs. Mary had saved some for a snack later, but gave it to Kalen instead.

Kalen wolfed the food down. The fork scraped the sides of the bowl until there was nothing left, and placed it on the counter. She wiped her mouth with the corners of her sleeve.

“Are you okay?” Mary asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“It’s just I don’t’ see how someone who has an entire basement stock piled with food act like they haven’t eaten in days.”

That’s because she hadn’t eaten in days. Her last mean had been in their old house. A house she watched go up in flames with her father inside.

“Who were the girls with you?” Kalen asked.

“My sisters.”

“What about your parents?”

Kalen recognized the look on Mary’s face. It was the same look she’d been wearing for the past three days. Kalen changed the subject.

“Where are you from?” Kalen asked.

“California.”

“What are you doing in Ohio?”

“We were on vacation. My dad wanted to have his daughters experience the world of the small town. We’ve been on a road trip all summer. We were planning on heading back the day everything turned off.”

Kalen watched Mary’s eyes drift down when she mentioned her father. She had said “dad” very softly.

“What about you?” Mary asked.

“Pennsylvania.”

“Were you guys here when everything went out?”

“No, we were back home in Pittsburgh.”

“You walked all the way from Pittsburgh to here?”

“We drove.”

Mary laughed.

“I’m serious,” Kalen said. “The Jeep out front works. That’s what we came here in,” she said.

“You’re telling me that you have a working car?”

“Yeah.”

Mary’s smile faded. Her face turned serious. She rushed over seizing Kalen by her shoulders.

“We have to get out of here,” Mary said.

Kalen felt Mary’s fingers digging into her shoulders. She squeezed hard, pulling her closer.

“Why? We came here because it was safe. My grandfather brought you here because it’s safe,” Kalen said.

“You don’t understand. That town, Carrollton, that’s just a few miles from here, is overrun. There’s this gang there. You want to know what happened to my parents? They killed my dad and raped my mom in front of me.”

When the words hit Kalen’s ears she didn’t have the reaction she thought she would. She’d been scared of facing what had happened to her in the woods. She didn’t want to give it a name. She couldn’t force the words from her lips. It wasn’t until Mary had said the words did she finally feel something about what had happened.

She felt angry.

“They raped her?” Kalen asked.

Mary didn’t cry. She kept the same rushed tone as before. She spoke not out of remorse for what happened to her mother, but of the fact that she didn’t want it to happen to her sisters.

“One of them burst down the door of the room we were in. My dad tried to stop them, but the guy pulled a knife on him. After he stabbed my dad he pulled a gun on me, my mom, and my sisters.”

Kalen felt herself being drawn into Mary’s story, her anger rising with every word leaving Mary’s mouth.

“He grabbed my arm and threw me on the bed. Before he could do anything to me my mom stepped in. She took her clothes off and let him…”

“Rape her,” Kalen said.

It was the first time those words left Kalen’s mouth. The man who had tried to rape her shared the same face in her mind as the man who raped Mary’s mom. They were the same person. She never asked what her grandfather did to that man in the woods, but she had imagined a few scenarios. The satisfaction of revenge on her assailant by her hands could no longer come to fruition, but maybe she could do something about the man who hurt Mary’s mom.

“He’s still alive?” Kalen asked.

“I think so. I mean I don’t know what happened afterwards. I just grabbed my sisters and we ran. We hid in the fields for almost two days.”

Kalen’s grip on the water bottle tightened, causing the plastic to crack and crumple from the pressure.

“How many?” Kalen asked.

“How many?” Mary repeated.

“How many gang members were there?”

“I’m not sure. I only saw around ten, but there could be more, that’s why we have to get out of here. We need to get in that Jeep and drive as far away from this place as fast as we can.”

“And go where?”

“Someplace safe.”

“There isn’t anyplace safe anymore.”

“We can’t just stay here forever.”

“No, but we’ll stay here for as long as we can and do what we need to do to make this place safe.”

“What are you talking about? Those people out number us. They have guns. They don’t care who they kill. They don’t care who they hurt. They’re animals.”

“Then we’ll hunt them down and kill them like animals.”

Day 10 (Mike’s Journey)

The “Welcome to Ohio” sign dripped with water from the storm that blew through earlier. Once Mike saw that sign he knew they were at the halfway mark. The caravan of people behind him was spaced out along the highway, huddled in their own separate groups.

The To family walked directly behind Mike. Fay, Nelson, and Sean were to his left. Tom and Clarence brought up the rear.

They hadn’t run into another person for almost three hours, and Mike was glad. The people they ran into were interested in either one of two things: following them or hurting them. So far they’d been lucky enough to avoid the latter, but Mike knew it was only a matter of time. If they ran into a group large enough with the guns and manpower to take them they’d be in trouble.

Everyone, but Mike, seemed to think that the road was safer than staying at the airport, but they hadn’t experienced true desperation yet. They hadn’t felt it put its hands around their necks, trying to squeeze the life out of them, draining their energy and resources until there was nothing left.

Mike feared that the people he was helping now would soon turn out to be his enemies. He desperately wanted to believe that the people walking behind him were good, decent people, but he also knew what a man could do when he was hungry enough. And what happened to the man who was foolish enough to feed him.

Jung walked up beside Mike, carrying his daughter, Claire, on his back, her head resting there, her thick black hair clinging to her forehead from the sweat collecting on her face.

“How far along are we?” Jung asked.

“We’re halfway. If we keep us this pace we should be there in less than forty-eight hours.”

“That’s great news.”

Mike glanced down at Jung’s belt. He held no knives, pistols, or weapons of any kind.

“Jung, you should carry the extra pistol. If something happens or if we get separated you’ll need to protect your family.”

“I am protecting my family, Mike. Men fool themselves into thinking that the justification of violence for protection safeguards them from it. All it does is paint a target on your back signaling those who share your views that you will have to face each other and fight until one of you dies.”

“You think that because I carry a gun that it invites, rather than deters, danger?”

“No. It’s the mentality of how you carry the gun and why you have it. If someone came out of those bushes with a knife in his hand and saw that you had a gun, he’d know the only way to get what he wants is to kill you. If he doesn’t kill you, then you’d kill him. If a man pops out of those bushes and pulls a gun on me and I have nothing to counter him he’ll be less likely to pull the trigger.”

“Only if you give him what he wants.”

“What I want is my life and the lives of my family to be safe. That’s what I want. I want to be able to ensure that my family has the chance to survive and go on.”

“Well, your family won’t survive for very long without the supplies those people with guns take from you. You can only go three days without water and a week without food. If what you have on your back is it, then that is your life. You keep that, then you’ll have a chance at survival. You don’t get to keep it, well, then you’re better off having the robber shoot you then and there.”

“Don’t lose your faith in people, Mike.”

“I haven’t lost my faith in people. I’ve just lost caring about them.”

The thunder from the storm clouds in front of them rumbled through the sky. The storm was moving away, but in the same direction they were heading.

Sean and Jung Jr. splashed in the puddles left in the road when the storm passed through earlier. Claire frowned, but Jung and Nelson both gave their boys a good-natured smile. With all of the things that were going on in the world, seeing their boys laugh and act like kids was worth the cost of their shoes and clothes getting muddy.

Sean kept pretending that there was something in one of the larger puddles, trying to pull him in. Fay kept egging him on with her laughter.

“Your boy’s quite the comedian,” she said, looking at Nelson.

“His mother’s the funny one. I’ve been told I have the sense of humor of paint thinner.”

“Well, depending on how much paint thinner you sniff you could have one hell of a time.”

Fay held the other rifle in her hands that Mike and Clarence grabbed from the weapons cache at the airport. She kept the barrel leaned up against her shoulder as she walked.

“What happened?” Fay asked.

“To what?” Nelson said.

“Your wife.”

“She’s a Vice President for an engineering company in Pittsburgh. She was in the city when everything stopped working. We stayed at the house for almost a week, waiting for her to come home, but after what happened in our neighborhood, we left with Mike.”

“What happened to your neighborhood?”

“The same thing that happens to people who give up.”

“Which is?”

“We forget how to be human.”

“Maybe it’s just how we really are.”

“You really think that? You think that we’re such a depraved species that at the first sign of trouble we all turn on each other like animals?”

“Nelson, we’ve both seen what people can do when they’re desperate. They don’t have any rules. They don’t have any principles. They just go by what they need at the moment. With everything that’s happened people aren’t planning for the future, they’re not showing restraint. They’re only worried about what they’re going to get their next meal, and they don’t care how they get it.”

“I don’t think so. I think we can still get out of this. ”

Fay raised her arm, her gesture encompassing the scene around them: the scattered abandoned cars with their windows smashed, the rising of fires in the distance sent smoke into the sky.

“Look around, Nelson.”

“I am.”

Fay noticed that Nelson wasn’t looking at her when he said that. His eyes were focused on Mike, up ahead.

Fay remembered her conversation with Mike the night before they left the airport. She wanted to believe what Nelson was saying was true. She wanted to believe that Mike could get them out of harms way and keep them safe. She wasn’t sure what was more frightening though, the fact that she could actually able to believe it, or that she was resisting it so much.

* * *

With the sun fading in the sky Mike decided to call it a day. The sighs of relief immediately followed.

A forest ran parallel along the highway. Mike picked out a spot on the tree line where they’d be concealed from view by anyone on the road, but still close enough to jump back on it quickly if they needed to get out in a hurry.

Just as in the airport the group set up shifts to keep watch. Tom had the first shift and posted up against a tree with the rifle across his lap.

“Just don’t shoot me in my sleep,” Clarence said, as he lay down on his sleeping bag.

“’White business man shoots black male in the woods’. That sounds like a CNN headline if I’ve ever heard one.”

“Good thing I’m more of an NPR man,” Clarence said.

The group settled in for the night and Tom drummed the rifle in his lap lightly. He’d never really fired a gun before, except on a business trip to Kentucky once. The clients there had been hunting fanatics and insisted on taking him out. He didn’t kill anything, but he did show a few trees a thing or two.

Tom absentmindedly checked his watch. He’d kept doing that since the first day when everything turned off. He always checked his watch. He was always in a hurry to go to a meeting, have lunch with a new client, look over his emails, check his voicemails, or review the earnings report that had just come out.

Clarence had asked him the day before why he hadn’t thrown the watch away once he realized it wasn’t working. After the explanation of informing everyone that it was an Omega failed to justify his reason of not throwing it out, he simply turned to the one reason that made the most sense to him.

It was a represented what his life had been, and God willing, would be again. The craftsmanship of the watch, the efficiency, the quality of detail that set it apart from its peers, his whole life he’d strived to be the man who earned that watch and he had worn it every day for the past three years since he bought it as a symbol of what he had achieved.

The clouds drifted in the sky above, obscuring the stars from view. The leaves in the trees rustled from a breeze drifting past. Tom adjusted his back against the trunk of the oak where he had propped himself.

After the first hour he got up to stretch. His back popped from being crouched on the ground for so long. He walked away from the group deeper into the woods to go to the bathroom, rifle in hand.

He found a spot behind a tree and unzipped his pants. Afterward, as he turned back to rejoin the group, he heard a twig snap.

Tom froze. The gun stayed at his side. The only thing he allowed to move were his eyes. He slowly turned his neck and then allowed his body to turn with it.

He brought the rifle up to his shoulder. He rocked it awkwardly in his arms. His footsteps were clumsy, stepping on branches and making more noise than whatever had caused the sound from earlier.

Tom squinted into the darkness, looking for the source of the noise. The lack of light from the moon and stars made it harder to see through the trees in the forest. He kept the rifle pointed outwards trying to scan the area and find whatever was out there.

After a few more minutes of not hearing anything but the sound of his breathing and a few owls, he turned around and headed back over to the rest of the group. He stepped over a fallen tree limb and when his foot came down on the other side he slipped and smacked hard against the ground.

“Goddamnit,” Tom said spreading his hands into the dirt steadying himself to get up. Then a scent hit his nose. It smelled rotten.

He fumbled around looking for the rifle he dropped and pulled out one of the glow sticks he had in his pocket. He snapped it in half triggering the phosphorescent light.

The green light spread across the ground and Tom moved the stick in large sweeping motions. He knelt down next to the limb where he had slipped. He shone the light on to the ground where he saw bits and pieces of guts that he stepped in.

“Christ,” he said.

Tom kept scanning the ground, looking for the rifle. He wandered around, combing the forest floor on his hands and knees until he felt his hand fall on something stiff, yet organic. The smell was stronger here and when he turned around he saw the lifeless eyes of a corpse staring back at him.

“SHIT!” he screamed.

Tom jumped up and took off running, dropping the light. He tore through the camp waking everyone up.

Mike jolted from his sleeping bag and had his pistol out, scanning the depths of the forest that Tom just ran from. The rest of the camp awoke, rubbing their eyes.

“What happened?” Mike asked.

Tom doubled over with his hands on his knees, gasping for breath. He kept pointing in the forest repeatedly.

“Saw… Body… In… There,” Tom spit out.

Mike kept his weapon pointed into the trees.

“How many?” Mike asked.

“Just one,” Tom said.

“Where’s your rifle?” Clarence asked.

Tom threw his hands up in the air. Mike frowned.

“Nelson, Clarence, come with me. Tom you lead us. We need to find that rifle,” Mike said.

Tom led the other three back the best way he could remember. The green glow stick he had dropped made it a little easier to pinpoint where to start looking. Clarence picked up the glow stick and held it out to see if he could get a better look at the surroundings.

“The body was over there I think,” Tom said.

Mike stepped over the guts by the tree limb. It didn’t take him long to spot the boulder-size mass next to the tree. When he saw the body he tucked the pistol back into his waistband.

“Clarence, toss me that light,” Mike said.

The corpse was completely mangled. Animals had ripped the stomach open, most likely, but what caused Mike to grimace was what had happened to the man below his waist.

The body didn’t have any pants on and had been castrated. Nelson and Clarence timidly came over, covering their mouths with their shirts trying to shield themselves from the smell.

“Oh my god,” Nelson said.

“Who would do that to someone?” Clarence asked.

“The question is what did he do, to make someone do that to him?” Mike asked.

Day 10 (The Bikers)

Half the crew was outside the motel. After Garrett’s Wake most people slept where they fell. Jake, at least, had made it into his room.

Open pill bottles littered the floor. Cigarette butts overflowed out of an ashtray. Jake lay passed out on the bed, still wearing all of his clothes. A pistol was on the pillow next to him.

He moaned when he woke up. He cracked his neck as he stood up. The room was hot, musty, and filthy. He flung the door open to let some air in and stumbled over to the mirror above the kitchen sink.

Jake rubbed his hands across the growing stubble on his chin. His eyes were bloodshot red. He picked up some of the pills lying on the floor and washed it down with a swig of beer from a bottle left unfinished.

He sat on the carpet, leaning his head back against the bed, taking sips of beer. His long hair, dirty and matted, stuck to his face. He ran his hands through it a few times trying to tame it, but was unsuccessful.

His mind was still gone from the night before. He hoped the oxy he just took would cause the jackhammer in his brain to shut off, at least for a few minutes. He waited for the drugs to take over so he could go to sleep.

Jake looked at the room. The sheets were torn off the other bed. Dirt, pill bottles, beer cans, and half-smoked cigarettes lined the floor. He dug into his pocket and pulled a pack of smokes out.

When he flipped the lid of the pack open he saw that he only had two left. He pulled one out, flicked the lighter and lit the tip. The first drag was always the best. He let the smoke and heat fill his lungs, then released it in one long exhale.

“Like a fucking dragon,” Jake said.

Once the nicotine and oxy started to fill his bloodstream the headache subsided. He tucked the cigarette into the side of his mouth and stepped outside.

Whatever food they were able to salvage from the grocery they’d piled up in the main lobby behind the front desk. There were boxes of food packed with canned goods. He grabbed a hostess cake and ripped the bag open. He stuffed the pie into his mouth and in two bites it was gone.

He ripped a Gatorade out of its plastic ring older and chugged half the bottle. The yellow liquid dribbled down his chin. He gave a few throaty coughs and then headed back out to the courtyard where most of his crew was still passed out.

Jake saw Frankie sprawled out on the edge of the fountain in the middle of the courtyard. Jake kicked Frankie’s boot. Frankie didn’t move. Jake sent his toe harder in the side of Frankie’s leg, shaking his whole body.

“Wake up, asshole,” Jake said.

Frankie moaned. He jerked his head up. He squinted his eyes open and put his hand up to shield them from the sun.

“What?” Frankie asked.

“Where’s the girl?”

It took Frankie a minute to process what Jake had told him. Jake kicked him again, impatiently.

“I don’t know, man. I think she’s still in my room,” Frankie said.

“Wake up the rest of the boys and have them meet us in your room then.”

Jake and his boys killed everyone in town they could find. The only souls that got away from them, were the three girls that Frankie let escape. Jake had thought about who could have killed Garrett and he still wanted justice. He would find the people that murdered his brother and make them pay.

He didn’t think the girls had any weapons on them to kill Garrett with, and Jake had also considered that it could have been a drifter passing through, but he wanted to narrow the field of who to hunt down, and he had a good idea to determine if it was the girls who did it.

Jake allowed his boys to keep the mother around. It was a good… stress-reliever for them. They needed to let off some steam from time to time and she reluctantly provided the services to do so.

Jake pushed the door to Frankie’s room open and she lay naked on the bed. Her wrists were tied to the headrest. Black and blue bruises spotted her legs and neck. Her eyes had opened at the sound of the door.

The bed next to the one she was lying on had some crumpled sheets. Jake tore one off and placed it over her body, covering her up. Unlike the rest of his crew, he hadn’t touched her.

The cigarette Jake had was down to a nub, so he dropped it to the carpet, putting it out with the toe of his boot. He pulled out the cigarette from his pack and lit it. He took a drag and sat down on the bed across from her. He just sat there, smoking and staring at her.

Her lower lip was cut and swollen, her mangled hair half-fell over her face, partly hiding her eyes from view. She tried to shift her body under the sheets, and in doing so, the top par of the sheet fell away, exposing one of her breasts.

Jake leaned forward reaching his hand out. Her body shuddered as she recoiled trying to escape his touch, but he pulled the sheet back up, covering her.

She started breathing heavy. Jake took another drag from the smoke, watching her examine him. Trying to understand why he was here.

“Let me go,” she said.

Jake tapped the end of his cigarette. The bits of grey ash fell to the carpet and on top of his boot.

“What’s your name?” Jake asked.

Her voice was barely above a whisper when she spoke. The name came out in hushed breaths.

“Hannah,” she said.

“Hannah. A beautiful name,” Jake said.

Jake took another drag on the cigarette. The smoke began to cloud his face from her view. It became thick and heavy in the room. She coughed a little.

“Have you had anything to drink or eat?” Jake asked.

“No.”

Jake rose from the bed and left the room, just as Frankie and a few of the others were stumbling in.

“The rest wouldn’t budge, Jake. Everybody’s passed out stone cold. It got wild last night,” Frankie said.

“Search the rooms. Look for any women’s clothing and bring it to me. Nobody touches her this morning. Just drop the stuff off.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem, Jake,” Frankie said.

Jake headed back up to the motel lobby, grabbed a box of peanut butter crackers, two bottles of water, and a Gatorade. When he returned to the room he saw that the men were waiting outside.

“Everybody leave,” Jake said, pushing past them and entering the room.

His crew scattered, most of them stumbling back to bed. When Jake entered he saw a line of pants, blouses, and shirts on the dresser. He set the crackers and Gatorade next to them and walked over to the side of the bed. He bent down intimately close to her. He placed his hand gently on her face and brushed the hair out of her eyes. He held her small chin in his hand.

“I’m going to untie you. If you do anything stupid I’ll bring everyone in here and every single one of my men will fuck you. Do you understand me?” Jake asked.

She nodded her head. Jake reached up and untied the rope binding her to the bed. Red lines marked her wrists made by the rope she desperately struggled against to free herself. Jake tossed her the clothes.

“Once you change I have some food for you,” Jake said pointing to the peanut butter crackers on the dresser.

“The bathroom’s over there. Come out when you’re done,” he said.

Hannah clutched the sheet to her chest and picked up the clothes Jake had thrown her. She walked to the bathroom and shut the door. A few minutes later she came out wearing a shirt that was a few sizes to large and a pair of baggy jeans. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and walked to the dresser. Her hands shook when she picked up the box of crackers. She tried opening one of the packs, but was to weak to do it.

Jake grabbed the pack from her hand and ripped one end of the plastic open. He extended his hand, offering it to her. His hand lingered in the air for a moment before she took it. The first cracker went to her limps slow, but she brought the rest to her mouth greedily. She grabbed the bottle of water and chugged it down, coughing a bit from drinking to fast.

Once she was finished with one pack she tore open another one and devoured it, continuously sipping water while she did.

Jake sat on the bed across from her patiently waiting for her to finish. Once she was done he leaned forward, his hands folded together.

“What were you and your family doing here?” Jake asked.

“Vacation,” she said.

“Where are you from?”

“California.”

Hannah’s eyes watered. The swollen lip started to quiver. Her head dropped and then she started nodding.

“What did your husband do?” Jake asked.

Hannah wiped her eyes on the shirtsleeves and rubbed her nose clean of any snot dribbling down.

“H-He was a financial investor.”

“And what were you guys doing in Ohio on your vacation?”

“We were doing a cross-country trip. My h-husband and I wanted o-our girls to see the country.”

Jake could see her barely holding it together. Her whole body was shaking. She was tired and afraid. She had no idea where her girls were and no husband. Jake knew, just as she did, that her life was over.

“What you did to save your girls was courageous, Hannah. You’re a very brave woman. Frankie would have raped all of them,” Jake said.

Jake stood up and paced the room. He ran his hands through his matted hair.

“You see Frankie’s different than I am. He lacks a certain amount of control. He’s more animal than man. He’s vicious, dangerous, manipulative, and angry. Whatever he wants he takes. He doesn’t care who gets hurt along the way. Now, you add him to this type of climate where everything is chaos? Where there’s no law, no rules, no decency? Well… This is a world he was made for and he’ll live for a very, very long time.”

Hannah had pulled her legs and arms in and formed herself into a ball sitting on the bed. Jake looked at her curled up, retreating into herself.

“With the way things are now people like you and your husband will die. People like your daughters will die. You and your family don’t have what it takes to survive in this type of world. You don’t know how to flip that switch on that transforms you into someone like Frankie.”

Jake joined her on the bed. Hannah jumped back, recoiling when he sat next to her. A few stray strands of hair had escaped her ponytail. He smoothed them out with his hand. Hannah flinched, her eyes closing when he touched her.

“One of my men was killed yesterday. Now, the only people that made it out of here alive when we showed up were your girls. Do you think their survival switch flipped on? Do you think that after seeing their mother raped in front of them and the fear of knowing they would be next finally caused them to see the world for what it really is? What it’s always been?”

“They wouldn’t hurt anyone,” Hannah said.

Her voice was shaking as she said it. Jake could hear the effort put forth in being strong, but she was betrayed by her emotions.

“And that’s why you won’t make it, Hannah. Just like your husband you don’t understand what people are really capable of,” Jake said

* * *

“How’s he doing?” Ulysses asked. Thanks to the meds, Ray had been dozing for a while.

Anne tossed the bloody bandages into the trash. She pumped a few sprays of hand sanitizer onto her hands and rubbed them together.

“His fever’s down. The antibiotics seem to be working,” Anne said.

Ulysses rubbed his knee. It was still sore from the previous day. He could walk on his own still, but he couldn’t move very fast and he wasn’t able to put a lot of pressure on the left leg.

“How about the girls?” Ulysses asked.

“The only one that’s said anything has been Mary. The other two haven’t said a word,” Anne answered.

“Did they tell you what happened?”

Anne turned to Ulysses. She had the face of a worried mother. Someone who feared for the safety of the people put in her care.

“Mary did. Ulysses, if those people find out we’re here they’ll-”

“Nobody saw me, Anne. We’re safe. Trust me. The only way you could find this cabin is if you knew where you were going,” Ulysses said.

Nancy sat crouched in the hall eavesdropping on their conversation.

“But what if someone else stumbles across us? What if someone else finds us by accident? By now people have started roaming around looking for shelter, food, safety. That’s what people are looking for and will kill to get it,” Anne said.

“Anne, we’ll be okay.

Nancy could hear footsteps coming from the kitchen and she took off back down the hallway into Freddy’s room where she and her sisters were sleeping. Freddy was staying in Ulysses’ room to make space.

Mary was brushing Erin’s hair when Nancy burst in.

“What are you in a hurry about?” Mary asked.

“They’re going to give us up,” Nancy said.

“Who?”

“These people.”

“Nancy, they’re trying to help us.”

“Mom wouldn’t want us to be with strangers.”

“Mom would want us to be safe, and right now we’re safe with them.”

“But mom-”

Mary slammed the brush on the bed. Erin hopped down and backed away from her. Mary’s voice was exasperated when she spoke, the stress from the last few days finally boiling over.

“Damnit, Nancy, mom’s not here!” Mary said.

Nancy stood there quietly. Erin crouched in the corner of the room. Nancy walked to Erin and put her arm around her. Mary exhaled.

“I’m sorry,” Mary said.

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry for what? For scaring Erin? For yelling at me? For giving up on mom?”

“I didn’t give up on mom, Nancy.”

Mary picked up the brush from the bed. She ran her fingers over individual prongs. She felt the tiny balls of plastic move over her palm.

“If you haven’t given up on her, then why is it that every time I talk about her you change the subject?” Nancy asked.

“Because I’m scared.”

“You’re scared?” Erin asked.

Mary and Nancy stared at Erin. It was the first time she’d spoken since they left the motel. Mary got off the bed and joined her sisters.

“Yes, but it’s okay,” Mary said.

“Is mommy really dead?” Erin asked.

“No, she’s not dead. She’ll never be gone from us. She loved you very much, Erin. She loved the both of you more than you could ever know.”

Mary threw her arms around both of her sisters and the three of them rocked back and forth with each other in silence.

* * *

Kalen had her ear pressed against the other side of the door, listening to Mary, Nancy, and Erin. Both Anne and Ulysses heard the commotion from inside their room and lingered at the end of the hallway. Kalen walked down to meet them.

“It’s going to be hard for them,” Kalen said when she joined her mom in the kitchen.

“It’s been hard for everyone, sweetheart,” Anne said.

“Maybe, but me and Freddy only lost dad. We still have you and grandpa. They lost both their parents.”

Kalen realized that they hadn’t spoken about her dad since they arrived. No one had mentioned him. None of them had taken the time to slow down and talk about it.

“We didn’t get to say goodbye,” Kalen said.

“No, we didn’t,” Anne said.

Ulysses moved uncomfortably in his chair. He pushed himself up off the armrests and hobbled to the door. He limped down the front steps and onto the pine needle ground of the forest floor. The pain shooting up his leg became too much and he stopped to lean against the Jeep, propping himself up for support.

Anne and Kalen came running outside after him.

“Ulysses,” Anne said.

Kalen wrapped her arms around her grandfather and buried her face into his chest. Ulysses wrapped her up. His body was shaking. Anne walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him.

Day 11 (Mike’s Journey)

“I don’t have anything else!” Fay screamed.

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” he said.

“Guys, knock it off,” Mike said.

It was the third time they had stopped like this today. Fay and Tom had been building up some animosity toward one another since yesterday.

Fay had her rifle gripped a little too tightly. The barrel was next to Tom’s head. He shoved the barrel down. Mike jumped in before Fay swung at him.

“Enough!” Mike said.

Jung and Jenna held Jung Jr. and Claire in their arms. Sean hid behind Nelson’s legs. Clarence came over with Mike to help diffuse the situation.

“Break it up you two,” Clarence said.

“Look, I’m not the one who decided to remember to bring their stupid watch instead of enough food to last them the trip!” Fay shouted.

“The only reason I didn’t have enough food was because I was helping you get your supplies,” Tom said.

“Take it easy, Tom,” Mike said.

Mike turned, took Fay by the shoulders and pointed her down the road.

“And you keep walking,” he said.

Fay stomped off and headed down the pavement. The To family, Nelson and Sean, and Clarence followed after her. Mike hung back with Tom.

“She knows I’m right,” Tom said.

“You don’t have anything left?” Mike asked.

When Tom exhaled the fight went out of him. He swung his pack around and unzipped the main pouch. He opened it up and Mike glanced inside. It was completely empty.

“I told you that it would be at least a two day trip, Tom,” Mike said.

“I know! It’s just… I haven’t been rationing like you told us to.”

Mike dropped his pack to the ground and pulled out a can of peaches. He handed it to Tom.

“I only have one of those left, so that has to last you until tonight. We should be at the cabin by then,” Mike said.

“Thanks.”

* * *

The road was taking its toll on everyone, especially the kids. Sean had been such a good sport the entire time, but he was starting to wear down. Nelson could see it on his face.

“Dad?” Sean asked.

“Yeah, buddy?”

“How much longer do we have to go?”

“We’re almost there. Just a little while longer.”

The lump on the side of Nelson’s face had gone down. The headaches were also starting to subside. He hadn’t mentioned anything to anyone, but he was still having nightmares from when they were mugged on their first day out.

He was so embarrassed about what happened. If Mike hadn’t been there then he could have died. Sean could have been hurt, kidnapped, or killed.

He was also struggling with what he’d done back in the neighborhood when Mike’s house was burning down. Nelson tried to justify it in his mind that if he hadn’t killed Ted, then Mike would have been the one to die. The justification of killing was never a choice he thought he’d have to make.

“Hey, Dad?” Sean asked.

“Yeah?”

“How long do you think it’ll take mom to catch up with us once she gets home?”

That was a topic Nelson had evaded desperately. He hadn’t spoke about his wife with Sean since they’d left. He knew it was going to be hard for Sean to understand that they wouldn’t see her again, and he didn’t want to see his son suffer anymore.

“I don’t know, bud,” Nelson said.

“I just hope we left her enough food to make it. I know that we don’t have much left and I think we took more than we left for her.”

“Well, you know mom could never finish her meals anyway. We always had to help her with desert, remember?”

“That’s true.”

Sean stayed quiet a moment before he spoke up again.

“Is mom dead?” Sean asked.

“What? Why would you say that?” Nelson asked.

“I don’t know. We don’t talk about her and I thought she’d be here by now. I keep thinking that any minute she’s going to appear behind us on the road, shouting our names, and we’ll see her running to catch up with us, but every time I turn around to check nobody’s there.”

Nelson could feel his legs growing weak. He knelt down in front of his son. He smoothed Sean’s wavy blonde hair. He had his mother’s nose and her eyes. When he looked into his son’s face he could see her as clear as day.

“Well, then let’s talk about her more, okay? That way we can remember all the good stuff,” Nelson answered.

“Okay.”

“Do you remember her favorite ice cream?”

“Mint chocolate chip.”

“That’s right. And do you remember what she did when you were in the school play last year as Peter Pan and you lost your costume the day before opening night?”

“She made me a new one,” Sean said smiling.

As they walked Nelson continued to talk about his wife with his son. Its purpose had been to make Sean feel better, but the more they spoke about her, the lighter the burden of remembering her felt.

“She made the best macaroni and cheese,” Sean added.

“Do you remember when you were in first grade and mom wasn’t feeling well and you tried to cook some of the spaghetti art you made for her?”

“Yeah, I remember you finding me and asking me what I was doing and then we had to throw away all of the spaghetti art in the house because I got mad at you for not letting me cook for her.”

“I actually don’t think I’d mind having some of that spaghetti art right about now.”

“Me either.”

Sean giggled and Nelson threw his arm around his son. He turned around and saw Mike making his way toward them with Tom in tow.

“Looks like Tom and Fay sorted out whatever was wrong,” Nelson said.

Mike pulled Nelson aside. He kept his voice low so nobody within earshot could hear.

“Everyone’s running low on food. Watch yourself,” Mike said.

Nelson watched Mike head to the front of the group, but saw him slow down once he made it. The whole group stopped, but nobody understood why. Nelson squinted in the distance to see what Mike was looking at, but it was too far to see. It wasn’t until the gunshots rang out that he realized what Mike was looking at.

* * *

“Jenna!” Jung yelled.

He rushed over to her. Claire and Jung Jr. were both crying. Jung Jr. had his mother’s blood on his face, shirt, and hands. He stared down her, lying on the ground with a hole in her shoulder, oozing blood.

Everyone hit the ground once the gunshots were fired. Mike had waited for more shots to ring out, but nothing came. He looked through the sight of his rifle, trying to locate the source of the shot. He scanned the roadside, along the trees, around the abandoned cars, but he couldn’t see anyone.

He could only hear the screams coming from Jung who was hunched over his wife, keeping pressure on the wound.

“Jung! Get your family off the road and into the trees. Tom, help Jung carry Jenna,” Mike said.

Tom rushed over and hoisted Jenna up, lifting under her armpits. Mike looked up at Fay who was also flat on her belly looking through her scope, scanning to see where the gunfire had come from.

“Anything, Fay?” Mike asked.

Her right eye was squinted shut, while the other peered through the scope and her mouth hung open trying to locate the shooter.

“Not yet.” She continued looking. “Wait, I think I have something. Red sedan about one hundred yards out,” Fay said.

Mike swung his rifle to the sedan. She was right. Mike could see the top half of a head through the shattered back windows.

“Do you have a shot?” Mike asked.

“No.”

“Keep an eye on him until we get Jenna over to the trees.”

The tree line was thirty yards from the highway. Mike watched Jung and Tom carry Jenna through the open field of grass. He glanced back into his sight, relocating the shooter, whose rifle was positioned on the trunk of the car, pointed in the direction where Jenna was being taken.

Mike exhaled. He lined up his shot and squeezed the trigger on his rifle. The opposing shooter ducked back behind the vehicle. Mike’s eye searched the rest of the car. He went up and down trying to see if he could get another clean shot off, but found none. He looked back over and saw that the group had made it safely to the tree line.

“Fay, head for the forest. I’ll cover you. When you get in position keep an eye on the shooter for my run over, got it?” Mike asked.

“Okay,” she answered.

Mike stared down the road at the sedan. He could hear Fay’s footsteps hit the pavement and then disappear onto the grass. He felt the gravel of the road digging through his shirt into his stomach. His elbows rested on the hard asphalt, causing pain to shoot up through his arms. He waited a few more seconds before he looked over and saw Fay in the tree line with her rifle pointed toward the sedan.

Mike pushed himself off the pavement and sprinted toward the forest to meet with the rest of the group. His feet were heavy and slow. After days of walking with little to no sleep his body wasn’t holding together very well.

When he made it to the forest he smacked against a tree trunk for support. He could feel the sharp pain in his lungs with each breath. He tried to gain his composure, but he was feeling light headed.

Jung gripped Mike’s shoulder. Jenna’s blood covered Jung’s hands.

“Mike, help Jenna,” Jung said.

“Fay, make sure you keep an eye out,” Mike said.

“Got it,” Fay answered.

The bloodstain around Jenna’s shoulder covered most of her arm and the top half of her shirt. Mike ripped the shirt around the source of the wound to get a better look. The blood poured out of her like a river. He checked the back of her shoulder for an exit wound.

“The bullet’s still inside,” Mike said.

Mike grabbed Tom’s hands and placed them over Jenna’s shoulder. She cried out in pain from the pressure.

“Keep firm, even pressure on it,” Mike explained. “It’s going to hurt for her either way, so we need to keep as much blood in her as possible.”

Mike swung his backpack around. He unzipped the main pack flinging out extra clothes, water, and food until he pulled out a small medical kit he found at the airport. He popped the hatches off the top and pushed the bandages aside until he reached a pair of tweezers.

“Clarence, hold her down,” Mike said.

Clarence brought the weight of his body down on Jenna’s arms and legs.

“Jenna, this is going to hurt, but I need to get the bullet out so it doesn’t get infected okay?” Mike said.

“G-give me some medicine,” Jenna said.

“I don’t have anything to give you. I’ll try and make it quick,” Mike said.

Mike dug the tweezers into the open gash on Fay’s shoulder and she let out a scream. Her good arm and legs swung wildly as she tried to push them off of her.

“Keep her still!” Mike said.

Clarence pressed down harder, but Fay was going wild. Each time Mike dug deeper into Fay’s shoulder more blood poured out followed by writhing and screams. Mike probed through the jagged pieces of flesh until he reached the tip of the bullet.

“I think it got it,” Mike said.

Mike pulled out a .224 round and dumped it on the ground. The leaves, grass, and twigs around them were stained red. He grabbed the bandages from the medical kit. He handed a few to Tom and placed the bulk of the bandages on the wound itself. Mike wrapped it tightly.

“I’ve done what I can,” Mike said.

Jung dropped to his wife’s side. He held her hand in his. Mike crept over to Fay who was still watching the red sedan in the distance.

“Whoever shot her is still there. I didn’t see anyone come or go,” Fay said.

“Just the one?” Mike asked.

“As far as I can tell. Unless there’s another person down the road, or back behind the tree lines.”

“Let me see your scope,” Mike said.

The red sedan came into view, but he couldn’t see anyone. He moved the barrel a bit to the right to get a different view and then saw the shooter with his gun over the hood of the car, aimed right at him.

The bullet flew into the tree next to Mike, sending pieces of wood splintering into the air.

“So I guess he’s still there,” Fay said.

“Move everyone deeper into the trees,” Mike said.

Nelson grabbed Jung Jr. and Claire and led them deeper into the forest. Jung and Tom carried Jenna, and Clarence came up to join Mike and Fay by the tree line.

“What are we going to do?” Clarence asked.

Mike poked his head out just a bit to get another look at the sedan, then glanced up into the sky. It was only mid afternoon and it would be another six hours before it became dark.

“If we don’t get Jenna some serious medical attention she could get an infection, blood poisoning, anything,” Mike said.

“But you took the bullet out,” Clarence said.

“That doesn’t mean she’s in the clear just yet,” Mike answered.

“We can move through the trees, deep enough to where he wouldn’t be able to hit us, but close enough for us to still see the road,” Fay said.

“I don’t want to risk this guy following us,” Mike said. “Clarence, you still have the pistol I gave you?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Trade me.”

Clarence pulled the pistol from his waistband and handed it to Mike who gave him the rifle.

“Listen, I’m going to move down the edge of the forest until I get parallel with the car. I’m going to make a sprint for the sedan and try to force him out. When I start firing that’s when you guys give me cover,” Mike said.

“Mike, that’s a terrible idea,” Fay said.

“Yeah, what if we miss, or what if he shoots you before you get to the car?” Clarence added.

“You two are the best shots in the group beside myself, and neither of you have had any training in close combat situations, so I’m making the run. It’ll force his hand. He’ll either fire back, or he’ll run.”

“Mike, think about what you’re doing,” Fay said.

“Keep a bead on him. We’ll hit from both angles. Confuse him,” Mike said.

Before Fay could stop him Mike rushed off. He weaved in and out of the trees keeping an eye on the sedan in the distance. Once he was parallel to the car on the road he crouched down.

Mike ejected the magazine from the pistol, checking the number of shots he had. Thirteen.

He shoved the magazine back into the pistol and racked the bullet from the magazine into the chamber. His thumb flipped the safety off. He took a deep breath and exhaled, letting the nerves melt out of him. He closed his eyes, slowly controlling his breathing through his nose.

When Mike opened his eyes he aimed the pistol and sprinted for the sedan twenty yards away. Dirt flew up from the ground as he tore off into the field separating the highway from the forest. He squeezed the trigger sending bullets into the trunk of the car, then another barrage of bullets went flying into the side of the sedan coming from Fay and Clarence.

Mike was ten yards away now and he could see the boots of a man underneath the front of the car by the hood. The clank of bullets from Fay and Clarence smacked against the side of the car.

Mike could see the shooter’s head now and the hail of bullet’s From Fay and Clarence hitting the car stopped when Mike reached the trunk. He dashed along the backside, his finger on the trigger, when the shooter came into full view.

He must have been no older than seventeen. The boy’s rifle was on the ground next to him and his hands were in the air. Mike’s finger left the trigger as he kicked the boy’s rifle away from him on the ground.

“Please,” the boy said.

“What are you doing out here? Why’d you shoot at us?” Mike asked.

“I thought you were with the people in town. I thought you were coming to hurt my family.”

“People in town? What town?”

“Carrollton. It’s just a few miles west of here. We had a group of bikers ride through and they killed everyone. They killed my grandfather. I just didn’t want anyone else to hurt my family.”

Mike picked the boy up by the scruff of his neck and threw him onto the hood of the car.

“So you thought you’d shoot at a group of people traveling with children?” Mike asked keeping the gun pointed at him.

The young man’s arms were out wide, his palms still up in surrender.

“I didn’t even mean to hit anyone. I was just trying to scare you. I swear,” the boy said.

“Your family still in town?”

“No, we have a farm just outside of it. It runs right along this road a few miles West. That’s why I was out here, to keep watch.”

Mike glanced down the road where the boy’s farm would be, then grabbed the collar of his shirt pulling him toward him.

“You have anyone else keeping watch?” Mike asked.

“No, it’s just me. It’s just me.”

Mike backed up, leaving the boy on the hood of the car. Mike picked up the rifle the boy dropped and slung it over his shoulder. With his pistol, Mike gestured toward the tree line.

“Walk,” Mike said.

The boy rolled off the hood of the car and started marching toward the forest. He kept glancing back at Mike, his eyes red and wet.

“Please, don’t kill me. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I swear,” the boy said.

Mike walked up behind him bringing both of the boy’s arms to his head.

“Keep your hands up where I can see them,” Mike said.

Clarence and Fay came out from behind their cover and started walking toward them.

“Mike, what are you doing?” Fay asked.

“Stop,” Mike said.

The boy froze, his hands still tucked behind the back of his head. Mike kicked the boy’s legs from under him, collapsing him to the ground. Mike tossed the boy’s rifle to Fay.

Tom and Nelson came rushing out.

“He’s just a kid,” Tom said.

“I keep telling him that it was just an accident. I wasn’t trying to hurt any of you. I was just trying to scare you off. I just wanted to protect my family,” the boy said.

“What do we do with him?” Clarence asked.

“You’re going to let him go, right, Mike?” Nelson asked.

“No, he’s going to take us to his barn and then we’re going to drop him off there and make sure he doesn’t follow us,” Mike said.

The boy’s expression eased. The color flushed back into his face and his body lost some of its tension.

“Thank you. Thank you, so much,” the boy said.

Jung came out from behind the trees. The boy caught sight of the blood stained over his clothes. Jung had a dazed look on his face. He walked like a zombie; jagged, limping steps propelled him forward. He stared at the boy sitting at the base of the tree.

“It was him?” Jung asked still looking at the boy.

“Yes,” Mike said.

The look Mike saw in Jung’s eye was a look he’d seen before. As much as Jung spoke about taking the non-violent road he could see the struggle in the man’s face. It was the first time someone had hurt a member of his family like that. It was the first time Jung had a taste of real violence in his life.

“You shot my wife,” Jung said.

“It was an accident,” the boy said.

“You could have hit my kids.”

“Take it easy, Jung,” Mike said, inching closer to Jung who had his eyes glued on the boy.

Before Mike had to intervene Jung turned away and headed back to his wife.

“Did she die?” the boy whispered.

“Not yet,” Mike answered.

* * *

Jenna was too weak to move, and everyone was too weak to carry her for a distance longer than twenty feet. Mike and Tom tried to carry her through the trees to the highway, but couldn’t even make it that far.

The farm that the boy was from, who told them his name was Billy Murth, said it was a mile down the road.

“The farm has a cart we could wheel her back in,” Billy said.

“Fine. Me, Tom, and Nelson will go with Billy and grab the cart,” Mike said.

“I should come with you,” Jung said.

“No, you should stay here and make sure your wife and kids are okay,” Mike said. “That’s the best thing that you can do right now, Jung.”

Mike gave Nelson Billy’s rifle, and Mike took one of the rifles from their own stash and gave the handgun he was carrying to Tom. Mike pulled Fay to the side out of earshot from the rest of the group.

“If we don’t make it back, there might be a good chance that his family will come back here looking for you guys. Have somebody posted on watch at all times. The kid could be playing us,” Mike said.

“What am I supposed to do if you guys don’t make it back?” Fay asked.

“If we’re not back by nightfall and if Jenna gets some of her strength back, follow the tree line down the highway. There’s a dirt road that’s hidden with some brush about four miles west. It’ll be on the left side. You won’t be able to see entrance from the highway, so when you guys are walking make sure you stay to the left.”

“Where does the road lead?”

“My cabin. My family will recognize Sean, so make sure you keep him safe.”

“No, Mike, this is insane. You don’t know what you’re walking into.”

“If we don’t get Jenna somewhere where we can sterilize that wound she’s going to die of infection. The only place that I know of is my cabin, and the only way I can get her there right now is to find something to carry her with.”

“Be careful.”

Mike kept his hand on Billy’s shoulder and the four of them took off down the road. He made sure to keep his eyes peeled for anything suspicious.

“How many people do you have at the farm?” Mike asked.

“Four,” Billy said.

“Who?”

“Me, my dad, my mom, and my younger brother.”

“Do they have any weapons, other than the rifle you had?”

“Yeah, my dad’s got a lot of guns. He’s a hunter. He takes tourists out on hunting trips for deer. Or he used to.”

“Great,” Tom said. “So we’re walking into a situation where we’re holding the son of a hunter and gun enthusiast hostage.”

“Will he be home when we get there?” Mike asked.

“I don’t know. He sent me to cover the east road while he went out hunting. He usually doesn’t come back till closer to sundown.”

“What about your mom and brother?”

“They’ll be home.”

“Can your mom shoot?” Tom asked.

“Yeah,” Billy answered.

“So much for catching a break,” Tom said.

It took them twenty minutes to reach the farm. The house sat in a clearing off the highway. An open pasture cut through the middle of the forest and cattle, horses, and other livestock roamed the fields grazing.

A large steel gate surrounded the property, fencing the cattle in. The gate creaked when Mike undid the lock and swung it open.

They kicked up dust from the dirt road as they walked closer to the house. Mike could see a barn in the back. Bells from the cattle dinged in the fields around them. Suddenly the front door of the house flew open and a woman wielding a shotgun marched onto the front porch.

“Let my son go or so help me God I will pump you full of lead,” Beth said.

Beth was a skinny woman. Her body looked far to frail for the 12-gauge she was holding, but the barrel of the gun stood rock steady.

Mike kept his grip on Billy’s shoulder, but made sure his gun wasn’t pointing anywhere near the boy.

“We don’t want any trouble, Ma’am,” Mike said.

“If you don’t want any trouble then why did you come onto my property, holding my son hostage, and armed to the teeth?”

“Your boy shot one of the people in our party. The girl he shot needs help. All we need is a cart to carry her and we’ll be on our way.”

“Tell them to put their guns down.”

Mike nodded to Tom and Nelson and they placed their rifles on the ground in front of them.

“Kick them away from you,” Beth said.

Tom and Nelson complied sending the guns sliding across the gravel. Mike placed his gun down last, but kept Billy close.

“You all right, Billy?” Beth asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Did they hurt you?”

“No.”

Beth walked toward them keeping the barrel of the gun pointed at the three of them. The sun reflected off the steel of the shotgun. When she got close enough Mike let Billy go and he ran for his mom.

“Mom, it’s okay. They’re not going to hurt us,” Billy said.

Beth kept the shotgun pointed at them. She paused for a moment taking all of them in, their hands in the air, waiting for her judgment.

The barrel of the gun finally dropped and Tom and Nelson let out a sigh.

“Thank God,” Tom said.

“The cart’s around back. How bad is she hurt?” Beth asked.

“She took a bullet to the shoulder, but she lost a lot of blood. She’s not strong enough to walk yet and we need to move her quickly,” Mike said.

Mike followed Beth around the side of the house and his eye fell on an old wooden cart. It was six feet long and stood four feet high. The wood was cracked and splintered along the bed. Two long handles jutted out from the front, where it looked like it would normally be pulled by a horse, or ox.

“That thing looks like it’s about to fall apart,” Tom said.

“It’s sturdy. We still use it to push around some of the livestock feed,” Billy said.

Mike grabbed the front handles and turned it around.

“We don’t have a lot of options. Nelson, grab the other handle and help me pull. Tom, grab the guns on the way out,” Mike said.

Tom tossed Billy his rifle back and collected their guns from the ground and put them on the bed of the cart, shielding his mouth from the dust kicked up by the wheels.

* * *

Jung held his wife’s hand. Her eyes were half open. He had pulled out his sleeping bag and laid her down on it. The white bandages covering her shoulder were soaked red. Sean kept their two children preoccupied by playing a game with them. Jung watched from a distance as their two small children tried knocking an empty can from a tree trunk with a rock.

“Jung,” Jenna whispered.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay,” Jung said. “Mike went to get us something to carry you in and then we’ll go to his cabin. Mike said he’d be able to help you more once we get there.”

Jung tilted her head up and pressed a bottle of water to her lips.

“Do you remember that vacation we took to Sea World last year? I kept complaining about flying all the way to California for a week filled with nothing but sea animals?” Jung said.

“You tried to convince the kids to just take a weekend trip to the coast.”

“And they wouldn’t even budge because of all of the pictures you showed them. They were so excited and when we finally left for the trip and we made it there they wanted to leave right away, but you couldn’t peel me away from it.”

“You kept wanting to get your picture taken with penguins.”

“They were so cool, but they smelled awful.”

Jung’s face broke into a smile, reflecting Jenna’s. The creases of his eyes wrinkled up, while the dark circles underneath seemed to be under more stress.

“You were right about that trip. It was a good idea. We should do it again,” Jung said.

“I’m glad you liked it.”

His smile faded. The circles under his eyes darkened. Tears began running down his cheeks.

“Jung,” Fay said. “Mike’s back.”

Mike and Nelson dragged the cart all the way through the field to the edge of the trees.

“Tom, come help me get Jenna on here,” Mike said.

Mike and Tom scooped her up while Jung grabbed the bags underneath her. Jung spread the sleeping bags on the bed of the cart. Mike and Tom laid her down. Jenna winced as the guys set her in the cart.

Jung managed to put Claire and Jung Jr. in the cart with their mother. Jung and Nelson pulled while Fay, Tom, and Mike kept watch on the sides and front of the group. Sean kept close to his father while Clarence brought up the rear.

The rickety cart’s wheels clattered against the pavement, the handles vibrating in Jung and Nelson’s hands.

Mike knew they’d be slower now, and he wasn’t sure how the group was going to get the cart up the dirt path to the cabin, but for now they were moving and that was priority number one. Fay came up behind him.

“So, what happened back there? How did you get the cart?” Fay asked.

“I asked for it,” Mike answered.

“Are you going to bring it back to her?”

“If it survives the trip.”

With their rifles loaded and the dirt path to the cabin only a few more miles up the road Mike let himself hope. He hoped that his family was there. He hoped that they were all okay. He hoped that Jenna would make it.

It was a feeling he hadn’t let himself experience since they left the neighborhood. He didn’t want to let false expectations get in the way of having to do what needed to be done. He knew the trip would be hard. He knew there wouldn’t be any guarantee that he would make it to the cabin and that there wouldn’t be any guarantee that his family was there when he did arrive, but being so close to the finish line caused the hope that he kept at bay for so long to creep in.

“We’re close, right?” Fay asked.

“Yeah, we’re close,” Mike answered.

Day 11 (Cabin)

“I don’t want you going outside by yourself,” Anne said.

“Mom, I’ll be fine,” Freddy answered.

Freddy hadn’t been outside since his grandfather brought the three girls back from town. He was kicked out of his room, so they could have his space, and moved in with his grandfather. He heard his mom arguing with his grandfather about it the other night. She was still worried about what happened in the town nearby.

The three toys Freddy brought with him were starting to bore him and he wanted to explore outside, but his mom refused to let him go alone.

“I have to get lunch ready. If you want to go outside then ask your sister if she’ll go with you,” Anne said.

“But she never wants to go outside. She just sits in her room all day.”

“Well, maybe she’ll change her mind today.”

Freddy threw his head back in exasperation and marched over to his sister’s room. The door was shut. He gave it three knocks.

“Kalen, will you come outside with me for a little while?” Freddy asked.

The room was silent. Freddy knocked again.

“Kalen, open up. Pleeeeease, mom won’t let me go outside unless you come with. I’m dying in here.”

Freddy slumped his whole body against the door. He pathetically clawed the wood and jiggled the handle. He almost fell over when Kalen jerked the door open.

“What do you want?” Kalen asked.

Freddy caught himself from falling face first onto the floor when Kalen swung the door open.

“Please, please, please, please, please come outside with meeeeeee?” Freddy asked.

He dropped to his knees and clenched his hands together, begging her. Kalen rolled her eyes and walked over to her bed. He saw her reach for her shoes and slide them on.

“Yes!” Freddy said.

Mary, Erin, and Nancy joined them outside. There was a storm in the distance and the sun hidden by clouds, but Freddy didn’t care. He ran around the cabin, exploring everything he hadn’t been able to see since they arrived.

After doing a lap of the cabin he circled back around to Mary and Kalen sitting on the front steps. Freddy held his arms out, closed his eyes, looked up into the sky, and spun around.

“Happy?” Kalen asked.

“You have no idea,” Freddy answered.

Freddy opened his eyes back up and they widened with excitement as a thought occurred to him and he gasped.

“Do you guys want to play Agent Match and Dr. Doomsday?” he asked.

Erin and Nancy looked at him questioningly.

“What’s that?” Erin asked.

“It’s a comic book that I read. Agent Match works for a super top secret agency and his nemesis, Dr. Doomsday, tries to destroy the world,” Freddy said.

“That sounds dumb,” Nancy said.

“It’s not dumb it’s fun!” Freddy exclaimed.

Erin was the only one smiling.

“I’ll play,” she said.

“Okay, I’ll be Dr. Doomsday and you can be Agent Match. You have to stop me from building my Doom Ray and destroying the world.”

Freddy grabbed Erin’s hand and pulled her to a cluster of bushes in front of the cabin. She giggled. Nancy joined Mary and Kalen on the front door steps of the cabin.

“Okay, so this your headquarters. Now you stay here and count to ten and I’ll go to my base where you try and find me okay?”

“Okay.”

Freddy took off and headed around the back of the cabin. There stood a cluster of trees in the back with a few low hanging branches. He rushed over to them and climbed up along the trees and perched himself as high as he could go.

He heard Erin yell ten and watched her run around looking for him. He could see the top of the cabin, all around the house, and deep into the forest. Beyond the trees he could see the town that Erin came from. It didn’t look dangerous from where he sat. He wondered what his mom was so worried about.

Erin checked around the cabin, peering into bushes, looking around trees, but she never looked up. Freddy smiled at her running around searching for him. After about ten minutes he climbed down the tree and decided to sneak up on her and scare her. She was to the left of him as he quietly descended the tree.

Freddy stepped lightly on the ground. Erin was crouched down looking through a bush when he snuck up behind her and poked her in the back and screamed.

“AHHHHHHH,” Erin yelped.

Freddy fell onto his back laughing. Mary, Kalen, and Nancy came running around toward them, their eyes frantic.

“Freddy!” Kalen yelled.

Freddy looked up from the leaves, dirt, and grass he’d fallen in and saw Erin crying. Nancy came over and wrapped Erin in her arms. She tossed a nasty look at Freddy.

“What did you do?” Nancy asked.

Freddy’s mouth hung open. He pushed himself up off the ground, wiping the dirt from his pants.

“We were just playing. She couldn’t find me, so I snuck up behind her. That’s all. I didn’t mean to make her cry like that,” Freddy said.

Anne came marching toward them, upset. Her hands were stained with bits of berries from some of the surrounding bushes.

“What is going on?” Anne said.

“Mom, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare her,” Freddy said.

“Frederick, get in the house now.”

“But, Mom.”

“Now!”

Freddy kept his head down. He lumbered to the front of the cabin. Before he reached the door he gave one last look at the trees around him. He figured he wouldn’t be allowed outside for a while.

Anne marched him inside and took him to his grandfather’s room. Freddy sat on his bed and his mother towered over him.

“What is wrong with you? Don’t you know what those girls have been through? You can’t sneak up on them like that,” Anne said.

“Mom, I didn’t mean to scare her. I swear. It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. We were just playing.”

“You stay in this room and you are not to go outside. Do you understand me?”

“But it’s not fair!”

Freddy slammed his fist into the bed. His face turned red, his eyes were getting wet. He jumped off the bed and stomped to the window.

“Do not take that tone of voice with me, young man,” Anne said.

“I don’t care! Everyone’s worried about other people. You helped Ray, Grandpa helped those girls, but nobody went back after dad! Nobody cared about dad!”

Anne’s face softened as Freddy collapsed to the ground. She walked toward her son, and knelt down. She lifted his head up, tears streaming down his cheeks and he buried his face in her shoulder. Anne stroked his hair.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay,” Anne said.

“I miss him.”

“Me, too”

* * *

Freddy and Erin made up by dinner, although Nancy was still flashing Freddy dirty looks.

Ray was finally feeling better enough to join them at the table. He’d been on his back for most of the past few days from the fever after his leg became infected. He still needed help moving around, but he was eating again.

Once dinner was over Kalen was the first to get up and head toward her room. Anne stopped her.

“Honey, wait. Why don’t we all play a game? I think there are some old board games downstairs.”

“Mom, do we have to?” Kalen asked.

“I think it’ll be good for everyone. Freddy, go downstairs with your sister and bring us something up. We’ll play it in the living room,” Anne said.

Freddy smiled. He shoved his hands against the table, his chair squeaking as he pushed back. Kalen followed less enthusiastically.

Freddy swung the lantern past the shelves to the box in the corner where the games were stashed. He tore the lid off and started sifting through the choices.

“What about Monopoly?” Freddy asked.

“Well, that would be a good way to pass the time for the next three months.”

“Okay, how about Life?”

“You want to play that one because the one we’re in is so great?”

Freddy dropped the game back into the box.

“Fine, Kalen, you pick,” he said.

Freddy moved away from the box and his sister walked over and looked inside. Freddy stood back, lantern in hand, when something caught his eye on one of the shelves next to him. The light from the lantern reflected off a metallic box on the bottom shelf. He moved over to get a better look, and then set the lantern down.

The box wasn’t large or heavy when Freddy pulled it from its place on the shelf.  It had tin foil tightly wrapped around the outside of it. He ran his fingers along the sides feeling the smooth, slick metal.

“Kalen, what’s this?”

Freddy held out the box and Kalen stopped her search of games to examine it.

“Probably something you’re not supposed to touch,” she said.

Freddy snatched the box back from his sister and rushed upstairs. Everyone was gathered in the living room. Ray lay stretched across the couch, Ulysses sat in the armchair, Anne was stoking the fireplace, and Mary, Nancy, and Erin were sitting on the floor.

“What’d you get?” Anne asked.

“I don’t know. Whatever this is,” Freddy said.

“Wait, I know what that is. It’s a Faraday cage,” Ulysses said.

“A what?” Freddy asked.

“It’s a homemade Faraday cage. It protects electronics from EMP blasts,” Ulysses said.

Freddy brought the box over to his grandfather and sat it in his lap. Every eye in the room turned to Ulysses.

“What’s in it?” Mary asked.

“Is it a phone?” Nancy asked.

“A computer?” Kalen asked.

Ulysses peeled the top off the box and his jaw dropped.

“What is it?” Freddy asked.

“It’s a pair of radios,” Ulysses said.

Ulysses pulled them out of the box. They were medium sized, black, and each with a long antenna.

“They look like they’re used for long range communication,” Ray said.

“Do they work?” Anne asked.

Ulysses turned the knob on top and the radio squealed on. The room was completely silent except for the static of the radio. Ulysses scanned the frequencies, slowly.

Everyone leaned forward. Each of them prayed that something would come through the speaker other than the clicks and pops of static. After ten minutes of silence Ray finally spoke up.

“You should turn the battery off, Ulysses. We don’t want to waste it,” he said.

“You’re right.”

Ulysses clicked it off. He put the radios back in the box and handed it to Freddy.

“Go put them back downstairs, Fred.”

Before Freddy could grab them Nancy cut in between the two of them and snatched the box out of their hands. She clutched the box to her chest, protecting it.

“No! We need to keep it on. We need to call for help!”

“Nancy, put it down,” Mary said.

“We can use it to call help for mom. She doesn’t have to be with those people anymore. We can save her.”

“Nancy, put it down now!”

Nancy handed the box back to Freddy and collapsed into a pile of tears.

“It’s not fair,” Nancy said.

“I know,” Mary said.

Freddy walked back down into the basement. He set the box back on the shelf, but stared at it for a moment. The tin foil shined against the lantern of the light like a star in the darkness. He set the lantern back down and pulled one of the radios out. He turned the knob on and the same hum of static blew through the speakers. He squeezed the talk button on the side. He brought the radio close to his mouth.

“Dad? If you’re out there we need your help. Everyone’s sad. We’re all scared and we need you. I miss you a lot.”

Freddy let go of the talk button and more static blew through. He waited, listening, hoping that he would hear his father’s voice come through to tell him it would be all right, but it never came. Freddy turned the radio off and put it back in the box.

* * *

The rest of the cabin was sleeping, but Kalen was wide-awake. She lay on her bed staring out the window. Most of the cluster of trees around them blocked out the night sky, but there was one patch of space open where she could see the stars in the cloudless night. She was on top of her sheets, drumming her hands on her stomach.

She thought about the men down there in the town. She thought about what they did to Mary, Nancy, and Erin’s family. She thought about how someone like them hurt her, made her afraid.

Silently, she slid out of bed. The bedroom door creaked when she opened it, sounding loud in the quiet of the cabin. She stood frozen making sure no one had heard her. After a few moments of waiting she didn’t see anyone come out, so she headed for the basement.

She kept the door shut and almost slipped down the stairs in the darkness. She didn’t want to turn the lantern on until she was all the way at the bottom, afraid that someone would see the light through the crack in the door.

She took the lids off the boxes in the far corner of the room. She rummaged through them, looking for a spare key she knew was somewhere amidst the junk.

“C’mon, where are you?”

The floor of the basement was lined with sheets, gauze, and winter clothes from pulling the materials out of their containers. She kicked one of the coats across the floor in frustration.

She let out a sigh and started packing up what she’d torn apart until a small black box caught her eye. She snatched it up. The insides were lined with spare batteries, ammo, and a ring of keys.

She took the keys and they jingled in a lock on a safe against the wall. Kalen pulled the safe door open and a row of guns lined the inside. Rifles, shotguns, and handguns organized neatly together. She picked up a 9mm Glock. She felt the plastic composite around her hand. She gripped the pistol in her hand, remembering what her dad had told her when shooting.

Keep your right hand high on the handle. Thumbs over thumbs. Don’t put your finger on the trigger until your ready to squeeze.

She brought the pistol up to her eye and pointed it at different objects around the basement. She kept her finger hovering over the trigger, never letting it touch. She ejected the magazine. It was fully loaded. She shoved it back in and racked a bullet into the chamber. She tucked the pistol behind her back and headed upstairs.

She snuck back to her room down the hallway when a whisper caused her to turn around. Mary was leaning out of her room into the hallway watching her.

“What are you doing?” Mary asked.

“Nothing. Go back to bed.”

Mary stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind her. She tiptoed to Kalen who kept waiving her to go back into her room. When Kalen finally determined that Mary wouldn’t go she pulled her into her room and shut the door.

“Why are you up this late?” Mary asked.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

Kalen wasn’t sure how Mary would react to the gun, so she kept it tucked behind her back. Mary walked over to the bed and sat herself on the edge.

“I don’t sleep much anymore,” Mary said.

Should she tell her? Should she let her in on what she was planning to do? Kalen figured that Mary had just as much right as she did to hurt the people in town, but she wasn’t sure if she would go through with it.

“It’s because of them isn’t it?” Kalen said, gesturing in the direction of the town.

“Yeah. I keep seeing my mom’s face, or my dad’s lifeless eyes just staring back at me. It doesn’t scare me anymore it’s just… I don’t know.”

“You want to do something about it.”

It was the way Kalen said it that made Mary look up at her. The faint moonlight coming through the window cast pale shadows along Kalen’s figure.

“Do what?” Mary asked.

“Make them feel what you felt. Make them suffer like you suffered.”

Kalen watched Mary’s face carefully.

“How? They have guns. They have more people. They don’t care what they do. They have no conscious. They’re-”

“Animals.”

Kalen wasn’t sure if that was the word that Mary was going to use, but looking at Mary’s face she knew it was the right one.

“You have to hate them as much as they hated you, because that’s what made them do it. They didn’t do it because they were bored. They didn’t do it because they were forced to. They did it because they liked it,” Kalen said.

Mary’s answer came out like a whisper. A realization of what Kalen spoke of.

“Yes,” Mary said.

Kalen pulled the pistol from behind her back. The black metal glowed from the reflection of the moonlight. Mary took the pistol from Kalen’s hand. She laid it across her palm, flat.

“I can get you one,” Kalen said.

Mary looked up at her. She placed the gun down next to her on the bed and got up quickly. She started shaking her head and moved toward the door.

“No, I can’t do this,” Mary said.

Kalen rushed up behind her and grabbed Mary’s arm. She spun her around. Her fingers dug into Mary’s arm, hard.

“Stop it. Let me go,” Mary whispered.

“You want to just hide out here for the rest of your life? If you don’t do something now you’ll die here. Those bikers in town may not be the ones who do it, but someone like them will. They’ll come through here and rape your sisters, then kill them in front of you, and just before they put a bullet in your head they’ll have their way with you too.”

Kalen had Mary’s face less than an inch from her own. Kalen’s teeth gritted together. She could feel the harshness of her words. The sting they sent with each syllable.

Mary stopped resisting, but it wasn’t from Kalen’s words, it was from something she was looking at past her. Kalen could see a faint orange light in the reflection of Mary’s eyes and she turned around.

Through the trees out of the window there was small twinkling of a fire. Kalen moved closer to the window to get a better look. The flames were in the distance, dancing into the night air.

Day 11 (The Bikers)

Jake walked along the line of his men standing in front of him. The sun was sinking in the west, sending a golden glow across the town that gave it a false beauty with the pile of bodies circled around a post where Hannah was tied and bound.

A red metal container of gasoline sat on the ground next to Frankie, who looked up at Hannah, blew a kiss, and smiled.

The blood from Hannah’s lip dripped onto the pile of bodies below her. She looked at the faces of, not the bikers around her, but of the blank stares of the rotting corpses. Some eyes were closed; some were open, while flies and maggots picked at the flesh on their faces. She could taste the stench of the bodies.

“Our club has been around for over fifty years. In those fifty years we have never let anyone walk over us. Not the cops, other clubs, no one,” Jake said.

The rope wrapped around her wrists and ankles was rough and tight. Her hands and feet had gone numb. She listened to Jake’s calm, even tone.

“We never let anyone walk on us because the only thing that matters in this world is strength, and we are strong.”

As the bikers clapped and nodded she could feel her muscles tightening.

“The Diablos have never lost a fight. We beat the Warriors, the Rebels, the Suns, anyone who’s come up against us has lost, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone beat us now. Those bitches that killed Garrett will come back. They’ll come back for her,” Jake said pointing at Hannah.

Hannah felt her body start to shake when the cheers from the bikers exploded. Strands of her hair covered her face, but she could see Jake pick up the red container of gasoline.

When the gas made contact with the open cuts along her body she cried out. Her skin burned. The taste of the dead below her was replaced by the taste of gas. It burned her mouth, her eyes, everything.

Jake pulled out a box of matches in his pocket and lit one. He pinched the match in between his fingers. The sun had disappeared below the horizon and glow of the fire in his hands accentuated the encroaching night sky.

Hannah thought of her children. She thought of her husband. She could see each of them as clear as if they were in front of her now. Their smiling faces looking up at her, letting her know that she would see them soon.

“Everything we touch. Burns,” Jake said.

He dropped the match onto the pile of bodies and the massive flame spread upwards into the sky. The flames swallowed the flesh and when the heat reached Hannah she began to scream. The fire crawled up her legs, consuming her body. She thrashed on the pole, her screams piercing through the cheers of the bikers. She could feel the fire tearing at her flesh. Finally, her body went limp, engulfed in the orange flames dancing along her charred body.

Jake watched the bodies burn. The fires danced in the reflection of his eyes. He’d always loved fire. It had ferocity, beauty, and power. He closed his eyes letting him feel the heat from the flames, his cheeks reddening from the burning flesh. He pulled Frankie away from the group and the two of them headed toward the lobby.

“You think they’ll come back?” Frankie asked.

“They will. They’ll want to know what happened to their mother, and when they do come back, and whoever they bring with them to help, will burn.”

Day 12 (Mike’s Journey)

The sun rose above the horizon. Mike had pulled the cart carrying Jenna the entire night. It took them twice as long with the cart as it would have without it. The path up to the cabin was meant for a vehicle with four-wheel drive capabilities, not two men dragging an injured woman in a cart from the early 20th century.

Everyone begged to stop, but Mike wouldn’t let them rest. He was so close to his family. Every time he slipped on the trail, or he felt the pain in his hands, legs, and back he thought of them.

Jung was the only one as motivated as he was to get there. He pulled the other side of the cart along with Mike when everyone else was giving up. They were less than a hundred yards from the cabin now. It wouldn’t be much longer.

The wheels of the car bumped along the roots and rocks of the beaten path. With the sun coming up he searched the ground for tire tracks that he hadn’t been able to see in the dead of night. They approached a stretch of mud and Mike saw the familiar tread of his Jeep’s tires in the soil.

Mike’s heart leapt. They made it. His family was there. Mike could feel his legs losing their fatigue. His eyes lost their weariness. His hands gripped the wooden handles harder.

“We’re almost there,” Mike said.

He could see the cabin now. The Jeep was parked on the side. Everything seemed to be intact. There wasn’t any damage that Mike noticed. His feet trudged faster through the mud and dirt.

When he finally reached the cabin and stood in front of the door he felt like he was in a dream. None of it seemed real.

“Tom, Jung, grab Jenna and we’ll get her inside,” Mike said setting the cart down.

Mike rushed to the door, flinging it open. The first person he saw was Ray lying on the couch in the living room. Ray opened his eyes and his jaw dropped.

“Mike?” Ray asked.

“Anne? Freddy? Kalen? Dad?” Mike called out.

Mike didn’t acknowledge Ray’s presence. He could only think of his family. He heard the creak of doors opening. The first person out was Anne. Mike stood at the end of the hallway when she stepped out of their room. She gasped as her hands covered her mouth in shock.

The next door that opened was Freddy, then Kalen. The hallway was silent as the four of them stared at each other.

“Dad?” Freddy asked.

A tear rolled down Mike’s face. His son, his daughter, his wife, they were here. They were safe. They were alive.

“Dad!” Freddy yelled.

Mike dropped to his knee as Freddy rushed toward him. He threw his arms around Freddy and wrapped him in a tight hug. Kalen came in next to her brother and Mike pulled her in. He clutched his children, kissing the tops of their heads. Each of them squeezing back as hard as he was.

Anne walked slowly toward him. The sight of her children with their father was better than seeing Mike alone. She wanted to join, but she didn’t want to miss what she was seeing. She finally made it to the three of them. Mike opened his arms and she stepped inside the circle. The four of them just sat, huddled on the floor, holding onto each other.

When Tom and Jung carried Jenna inside Mike finally got up, still holding his family close. Everyone stared at each other for a moment. Anne was the first to speak when she saw that Jenna was hurt.

“What happened?” Anne asked.

“She was shot. I’ll grab the spare cot downstairs and bring it up,” Mike said.

Mike rummaged through the basement searching for the cot and found it lying on its side against some of the medical supplies. On his way back he glanced at the gun cabinet. It was unlocked.

Mike set the cot up in the living room and Tom and Jung set Jenna down on it to rest. Anne felt Jenna’s forehead with the back of her hand.

“She’s burning up. I’ll grab some Ibuprofen and some new bandages to dress her wounds,” Anne said.

“Dad, I can’t believe you’re here,” Freddy said looking up at his father.

Mike scooped him up and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“I missed you, bud,” Mike said.

“I missed you too.”

When Ulysses opened the door of his room he noticed that he was drying his eyes on the corner of his shirt. He didn’t say anything but walked up to Mike and gave him a hug, squishing Freddy in between the two of them.

“It’s good to have you home, son,” Ulysses said.

“Thanks, pop.”

* * *

Jenna lay passed out on the cot. She had fresh bandages on her shoulder and Anne had given her some of the antibiotics that Ray was taking. Everyone was crowded around the kitchen table.

After introductions the group caught up on what happened. Ulysses and Anne explained about the storm and the tree falling, which hurt Ray’s leg and the trip to town where Ulysses found Mary and her sisters. She purposefully left out the situation with Kalen. She would fill Mike in about that later in private.

“The bikers killed everyone,” Mary said.

Mike noticed that her voice was emotionless. She stood there not with a face of pain, but of solace. He couldn’t imagine what those three girls had gone through, but he found it odd how put together she seemed after what happened. Maybe it was her way of coping.

Mike explained what Nelson had done and how he saved him after the house caught fire. He told them about the trip their and the detour to the airport, the boy who shot Jenna and the trip to the farm.

After the explanations Anne, Mary, and Tom, who claimed to be an excellent cook, started breakfast for everyone. Powdered eggs, dried fruit, and nuts were on the menu. Tom explained that he didn’t have access to his normal ingredients and he did the best he could, but nobody cared. It was the first hot meal any of them had in days.

When breakfast was over they did some rearranging. The cabin was built to only hold five and there were now eighteen of them. Mary, Nancy, Erin, Kalen, and Fay would crash in Kalen’s room. Nelson, Sean, Ulysses, and Freddy would stay in Ulysses’ room. Jung, Jenna, Jung Jr. and Claire would get Freddy’s room. Clarence, Tom, and Ray would be in the living room. Mike and Anne would stay in their room, which they tried to give up, but nobody would take.

It took most of the morning to get everyone situated and by the time they did it was lunchtime. They cracked open the canned food and had lunch outside. Mike noticed that Mary kept glancing at the smoke rising from the town. She caught him looking at her once and didn’t look back at the town again.

There were chores to get done, but Mike put them all off. He did nothing except be with his family. Everything that needed to be done he would put off until tomorrow. That was his gift to himself for making it this far.

The day went by fast. Everyone got along well enough. There were some awkward moments with everyone coming in and out of the outhouse, but for the most part it went smoothly.

That night Mike walked into his father’s room to tuck Freddy in. His son was in his sleeping bag on the ground. He watched Freddy’s smile as he ran his fingers through his son’s hair. He kissed his son’s forehead.

“I love you,” Mike said.

“I love you, too.”

Mike pulled the pocket watch out and set it down in Freddy’s hands. Freddy picked it up by its chain and it spun, sparkling in the candlelight.

“That was your grandfather’s. I want you to have it,” Mike said.

Freddy flipped the watch open. The hands ticked steadily forward. The time was in roman numerals.

“Thanks, Dad,” Freddy said.

When Mike walked to Kalen’s room the girls were settling in. Kalen had tried giving up the bed, but no one would take it. Mike looked at her like when she was a little girl, her hair messy and curly, looking up at him with her big brown eyes. He weaved in and out of the girls on the floor and made it to the side of her bed where he sat.

“I missed you, kiddo,” Mike said.

“I missed you too, Dad.”

Mike placed his hand over hers, which lay across her stomach. He rubbed her fingers in his rough hands and bent down and kissed her on the cheek.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” Mike said.

Ray, Tom, and Clarence were sprawled out in the living room. Ray on the couch, and Tom and Clarence on the floor.

“Night, guys,” Mike said walking down the hallway to his room.

“Night,” they said together.

Mike pushed the door to his room open. Candles flickered and Anne was laying across the bed, waiting for him. He lingered in the doorway for a moment looking at her. She wore an old T-shirt of his and her hair fell down to her shoulders. It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever laid eyes on. He shut the door behind him and crawled into bed next to her.

“Hey,” Mike said

“Hey.”

The light from the candles danced across their faces. They lay their holding each other until their lips met. Mike breathed deep the moment his lips hit hers. He pulled her closer, her body running the length of his.

Anne pulled herself back after a moment.

“What is it?” Mike asked.

“Mike, something happened on our way to the cabin.”

He noticed that her voice sounded scared.

“What?” Mike asked.

“We stopped halfway here. Freddy needed to go to the bathroom and couldn’t hold it, so your dad pulled over next to a wooded area.”

Mike’s heart pounded through his chest. His mind flashed back to the corpse he saw just beyond the Ohio borderline where they camped a few nights ago.

“She went into the woods and there was someone there,” Anne said.

Mike got out of bed. His adrenaline coursed through his veins.

“Your dad was able to get before anything happened, but she got beat up a little.”

“Someone tried to rape my daughter?”

“Honey, she’s okay. Your dad got to her in time.”

Mike fell back against the wall. He slid down to the floor across from the bed. He buried his face in his hands. He played the scenario over in his head: the man grabbing her from behind, tossing her to the ground, pulling a knife to her throat, ripping her clothes off.

Anne crawled out of bed and bent down to her husband. She took his hands off his face and held them in hers.

“My baby girl,” Mike said, his eyes watering with tears.

Anne cradled his head in her chest. He let himself go. His shoulders shook as the sobs left his body.

* * *

Mike slept well past sunrise into the next day. When he woke he stretched his neck, cracked his knuckles, wincing at the stiffness and pain throughout his body. He looked over and saw that Anne was already out of bed.

The living room and kitchen were buzzing with kids laughing chasing each other, Ulysses and Ray debating baseball statistics, Fay showing Mary and Kalen her tattoos, Jung and his children still yawning from waking up, Freddy eating a bowl of cereal complaining about the powdered milk with his hair sticking straight up and Anne trying to put it down.

Mike thought of all of the implications of having this group here. The shortage of food, water, medical supplies, the danger of being seen and heard, protecting them from danger, all of these things ran through his mind. He thought of the biker gang in the town a mile away who already murdered several people. As he glanced around the room and looked to each of them individually he wasn’t sure he could keep them alive until his eyes found his wife. She stood straight, her head held back with a smile in her eyes. He saw how strong she was, how she had held everyone together while he was gone. He could make it through this. They could all survive.

When the group noticed him standing quietly in the hallway, they all stopped what they were doing and watched him. They looked to him with the hope that he could keep them alive.

Day 8 (Katie)

When Katie turned onto 24th Street her jaw dropped. The cars along the streets were trashed with bullet holes and broken windows. The houses were violated by looters breaking in and stealing whatever they could find. A few trashcans smoldered from the remains of firs started, then left alone to burn out.

Sam walked behind her, his pistol at the ready, on alert for any signs of danger. When they walked past Mike’s house she covered her mouth. It was nothing more than a burnt pile of wreckage.

Katie looked at the two crosses sitting in the Beachum’s yard. The two mounds of dirt rising from the Earth caused her heart to sink in her stomach.

“Your house?” Sam asked.

“No.”

Katie pulled the front door to her own house open. The door creaked, as it swung open. She lingered there in the doorframe, afraid of what she’d find inside. When she finally crossed the threshold, she tiptoed gently.

Most of the house was intact. When Katie walked past the living room she stopped. All of the furniture was rearranged.

Sam stood patiently in the foyer, watching her examine the living room. He could see pictures of her family along the walls leading up the staircase.

The couch legs squeaked against the wooden floorboards when she pushed it aside, allowing herself into the circle of furniture. The empty space in the middle suggested there was something there before, but whatever Nelson and Sean had left her was gone.

Katie sat down on one of the chairs. She looked up at their family portrait hanging above the fireplace. The photo was taken last fall. On their way to the studio that day she remembered the leaves falling from the trees and gathering on the road. The faded browns and oranges of fall decorated the black pavement. She could hear Sean laughing in the back seat from Nelson’s singing, begging for him to stop.

Katie forgot Sam’s presence until he spoke very quietly.

“Mrs. Miller,” Sam said.

Katie continued to look at the family portrait. That day she was thinking of in her mind seemed so far away.

“I’m never going to see them again, Sam,” Katie said.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. Look at the rest of the neighborhood. They either died when everything collapsed on them, or they ran off. Either way, I won’t be able to find them.”

“Maybe they headed back into the city looking for you.”

“I hope not. I hope they got as far away from this place as they could.”

Katie leaned forward, burying her face in her hands. She didn’t cry and she didn’t feel angry, she was just tired. She was foolish to think she could find them, to think that they were still here. Of course they left, just as she should have left the city the first day the blast hit.

“I’m going to look around, make sure the rest of the house is secure,” Sam said.

Katie nodded her head. She leaned back into the chair, sliding down against the burgundy velvet seat. Her eyes focused lazily on the fireplace. She could feel her eyelids drooping down, the exhaustion from the day of traveling hitting her all at once. She tilted her head down, and that’s when she saw the crumpled up ball under the couch.

Her head perked up. She dropped to her hands and knees and reached under the couch, grasping the ball of paper in her hands. She smoothed the crumpled sheet out on the couch. After reading it, a few tears fell and stained the edges.

Sam came back downstairs and stopped when he saw her crying.

“Mrs. Miller?” he asked.

Katie looked up at him. She was laughing through her sobs.

“I know where they are.”

Copyright

Copyright 2014

All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any means without prior written permission, except for brief excerpts in reviews or analysis.

Content

James Hunt
BROKEN ROADS
A Tale of Survival in a Powerless World

Day 7 (Katie)

Day 7 (Mike)

Day 6 (The Cabin)

Day 5 (Biker Gang)

Night of Day 7 (Mike’s Journey)

Day 6 (The Cabin)

Day 6 (Biker Gang)

Day 9 (Mike’s Journey)

Day 9 (The Cabin)

Day 10 (Mike’s Journey)

Day 10 (The Bikers)

Day 11 (Mike’s Journey)

Day 11 (Cabin)

Day 11 (The Bikers)

Day 12 (Mike’s Journey)

Day 8 (Katie)

Copyright