by Harley Tate
Madison’s elementary school alone housed a thousand kids. It, along with sixteen other schools, made up the district. Thousands of kids, all living in the city, wondering when the lights would come back on. How were their families surviving? How were they coping with this potential future?
Tracy finished the last bite and drained the bottle. Food. So simple, easy, and taken for granted. She turned to Tucker. “The only way we’re going to find Brianna and get out of here is if we make a commotion. We’re going to have to shout her out.”
Tucker opened his mouth to respond when a gun shot cut him off. Apparently, the two men had moved onto shotguns. He tried again. “Those two idiots are drinking beer and shooting at bed-in-a-bag sets and stacks of pillows and we’re going to let them know we’re here? That’s insane.”
“Brianna won’t leave without weapons, you said so yourself.”
“I don’t follow.”
Tracy exhaled. While she chewed the granola bar, a plan had come to her. It might not work, but they didn’t have a choice. Staying in the garden department of Walmart wasn’t a permanent solution. “We need to set a trap. Lead those two into it and flush Brianna out all at the same time.”
After a moment, Tucker nodded. “I get it. Okay.”
“Do you have any ideas?”
Tracy could practically see the gears turning in Tucker’s head. The science geek part of him was already drawing up plans. “I’ve got one, but it’ll take some work. How do you feel about manual labor?”
“Whatever gets the job done.”
He smiled. “Great. Then let’s get started. We’ve got a lot of cans to move.”
An hour later and they were ready. Tracy stepped back to marvel at their handiwork. “Do you think it will work?”
Tucker nodded. “Even if only fifty percent deploy, we should incapacitate them.”
“Okay.” Tracy wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. “Let’s do this.” She picked up the shotgun from where she had left it on the now-empty shelf and smiled at Tucker. “If something happens, grab Brianna and get out of here.”
“All of us are making it out of here alive, Mrs. Sloane.”
“It’s Tracy, please.”
“Fine.” He rolled his eyes. “Tracy, you’re going home today. Alive and without a single bullet hole. Is that better?”
Tracy laughed despite her rising fear. “Yes. Thanks, Tucker. Wish me luck.”
“You don’t need luck. You have guts.”
Before any more doubt set in, Tracy took off, shotgun in one hand and a makeshift megaphone in the other. She thought of her favorite movie when she was a teenager and smiled before taking off, her feet pounding the concrete floor.
She shouted into the megaphone. “I wanna be an airborne ranger!”
As she turned another corner, she ran the barrel of the shotgun along a rack of cans, knocking them all to the floor. “I wanna live the life of danger!”
Visions of John Bender’s hair blowing as he ran, his fingers trailing across the lockers of Shermer High, filled her mind. She smiled as she neared the main aisle, belting out the rest of the song, even when it veered away from the well-known cadence and into something as a teenage girl she blushed over.
At last, the two trigger-happy men began to shout. Tracy cleared the final aisle and there they were, countless beers into case number two, long guns in each hand. Just stick to the plan, Tracy. Just stick to the plan.
“Hey boys! Up for a little game? How about chase?” She took off, racing around the end cap as both men shouted again.
“Hey! Get back here!”
She didn’t stop. “Come and get me!”
Their footsteps thundered behind her, four drunk and off-balance thuds for each of her two. It’s working. Tracy kept just far enough ahead, knocking cans and boxes onto the floor as she neared the aisle set with the trap.
“Are you ready?” Tracy slowed as she entered the aisle, waiting until the men could see her before continuing. Please Tucker, please be ready. She raced past the spot of the trap, stopping three-quarters of the way down the aisle.
Huffing and out of breath, both men appeared. One had a lantern in his hand and he held it up while the other gripped his knees and sucked in labored breaths. “Hey pretty lady, why the chase?”
“To make the reward that much more special.” She shook her backside and pushed up her chest. “You do want a reward, don’t you?”
The one with the lanterns stepped forward, but the other man grabbed his arm. “It could be a trap.”
The man with the lantern shrugged him off. “I don’t care what it is. She’s hot and I’m horny. You can wait here. I won’t be long.”
Tracy cursed under her breath. She needed both of them to come to her for this to work. After a moment’s hesitation, she lifted her shirt. “Come on, honey, I’ve got more than enough for both of you. Unless you want your friend to have all the fun.”
The holdout spat on the ground and Tracy forced the smile to stay on her face. She shimmed and dropped her shirt. “Clock’s ticking.”
At last, the man stepped forward. Yes! Just keep coming.
She counted off their steps like she was a ticking clock, but it was more for Tucker’s benefit than anything. “One. Two. That’s it, come and get me. I won’t run anymore. I promise.”
Both men advanced. “Three. Four. Only a little bit more. Come and give it to me.” She pouted and blew them each a kiss, trying not to gag in the process.
“You sure about this, honey?”
“Of course I am.”
Only a few more steps. Come on, come on. “Five, six, seven. That’s it boys.”
Two more feet and they were in position. Please.
The lantern-wielding man moved ahead of his friend. The other one reached out and grabbed his arm again. “Hey! She said we both get a chance. Who says you get to be first?”
“I’m not the one who hesitated. You’re the one who didn’t want to. You can have my sloppy seconds.” He grabbed at his crotch and Tracy swallowed down the rising bile in her throat. Just move!
As they argued back and forth, they danced in and out of the target. Tracy was going out of her mind. Every second that ticked by, their goal slipped further and further away.
She did the only thing she could think of. “Hey! How about you quit arguing and you can both have a go. At the same time!”
Both men turned to her, slow-motion smiles spreading across their faces. “Hell, yes!”
As they took the last steps needed, Tracy shouted. “Now!”
Before she could blink, the wall of Rotel, all three thousand cans by Tucker’s estimation, toppled. It started at the top, the first few raining down like oversized hail from above.
One of the men shouted and tried to move out of the way, but it was no use. The rest of the cans followed, a crescendo of noise and destruction. In seconds, the pair were buried beneath metal and hundreds of pounds of spicy tomatoes.
Tracy sucked in a lungful of air before bringing the megaphone back up to her mouth and yelling as loud as she could manage. “Brianna!”
Chapter Fourteen
MADISON
Sloane Residence
7:00 p.m.
Madison paced back and forth in the kitchen, a half-empty bottle of Gatorade in her hand. She wished it were beer or wine or even vodka. She didn’t drink, but she could start. It was the apocalypse after all; age limits no longer applied.
Peyton appeared in the doorway with dark circles under his eyes. He rubbed his shoulder. “I’d give a very special body part to have an ice pack right now.”
“Don’t be gross.”
“I’m not. I’m completely serious.”
“How is he?” Part of Madison didn’t want to know. Maybe if she didn’t think about him, then the man duct taped and tied to the iron bed in the master bedroom would disappear.
“The same as twenty minutes ago. Passed out cold. His head wound seems to have stopped bleeding though, so that
’s good.” Peyton hesitated. “I think. Is it good?” He shook his head and walked over to the stack of Gatorades. “I don’t even know anymore.”
Madison agreed. “Last week we were gearing up for midterms and talking about summer vacation.”
“Now we’re deciding what to do with a guy some librarian we don’t even know tried to kill.”
“If she’d been trying to kill him, she’d have used a bullet. She was scared and reacted. Are you telling me that if the situation were reversed you wouldn’t have defended yourself?”
“I wouldn’t have put myself in that position in the first place.”
Madison sighed. It was easy for Peyton to say he wouldn’t have reacted the same way, but when a strange man busts through the bedroom window and tries to punch your lights out, he’s not there to introduce himself and invite everyone over for tea.
“Cut Wanda some slack. She’s trying. If it weren’t for her, you wouldn’t be clean, remember?”
“Peyton grimaced as he surveyed his fingernails. “I’m not sure we’ll ever be clean again.”
Madison ran her hand through her hair. The strands still held onto enough grease to make her nose scrunch. “None of that matters. We need to figure out what to do with him. We can’t keep him tied up in there forever. His friends will come looking for him.”
“How do you know he has friends? He could be a loner. Does he look familiar?”
Madison exhaled. “I don’t really know my parents’ neighbors.” Oh, how she wished her mom and dad were back home. Thanks to the break-in and resulting prisoner, Madison had temporarily put her mom’s absence out of her mind. But thinking about the neighbors brought it back full force.
“They’ll be all right, Madison. Your mom is tough as nails. If they’ve run into trouble, she’ll find a way to bring Brianna and Tucker home.”
“Thanks.” She managed a small smile.
“Guys?” Wanda called out from the living room. “I hate to interrupt, but there are headlights in the driveway.”
“My mom!”
“Or someone looking for their friend.” Peyton reached for the shotgun. “We can’t be too careful.”
Madison nodded and pulled Wanda’s handgun out from her waistband. Ever since she almost bashed a man’s head in, Wanda said she didn’t want to touch it.
“I’ll take up position in the hall. You get behind the entertainment center. At the first sign of trouble, shoot.”
Peyton nodded and slipped behind the entertainment center as the lights out front shut off. Madison hid behind the corner of the wall leading to the bedrooms. Please be my mom. Please.
The door handle rattled, followed shortly by a knock. “Hey you jerks! Open up, it’s us!”
Madison exhaled in relief and rushed to the front door. She threw it open and wrapped Brianna up in a bear hug. “You’re all right!”
“No thanks to two frat boys who thought target practice in an empty Walmart was the best way to waste ammo.” She stepped back, her blonde curls sticking every which way, and pointed at the entertainment center. “Redecorating?”
Madison swallowed. “We had a bit of an incident.”
“What? Is everyone okay?” Madison’s mom, Tracy, appeared in the doorway.
Madison ran to her, hugging her even tighter than she’d hugged her roommate. “You came home.”
“Of course I came home. But are you all right? What happened?”
“There’s plenty of time to talk about it. Can I help haul in gear? Is Tucker okay?”
“He’s fine, just collecting the things from the car. Unfortunately we don’t have much. A few more guns, some boxes of ammo, and a bit of food, but we had to leave most of it behind.”
Tucker entered the house then, an oversized black gun bag slung over his shoulder and a cardboard box in his arms. “We’re lucky to be alive. Your mom really came through. I had no idea she could dance like that.”
Madison raised her eyebrows, but her mom waved her off. “I’ll fill you in later.”
“Yes, you will.”
Peyton shut and locked the front door. “The important thing is that everyone is home safe.” He slapped Tucker on the back. “Nice to have you back, man.”
“Good to be back.” Tucker bumped Peyton in the shoulder and the big guy almost curled up into a ball. “Whoa. What happened to you? Is your arm broken?”
“I don’t think so. Bruised really bad, though.”
Madison exhaled. “After you all get something to eat and drink, we need to talk. We have a problem.”
“What do you mean there’s a man trapped in my bedroom?” Madison’s mom’s gaze darted from her daughter to Peyton to Wanda and back again.
No one volunteered.
“Is he alive? Dead? What happened?”
Peyton scratched at his ear. “He’s alive, but he’s got a nasty gash in the top of his head. Lost a bit of blood.”
“Did he break in? Threaten you?”
Madison glanced at Wanda. The woman sat hunched over her bottle of room-temperature juice, a cardigan wrapped around her despite the heat. Her eye had swollen completely shut and the skin around it looked almost black. “Wanda should explain it.”
Her mom turned to Wanda, waiting. After what seemed like forever, Wanda reached for her juice, turning the bottle around and around on the table. “We were all standing around, chitchatting in the kitchen when Madison saw someone in the backyard.”
“Okay.” Her mom sat forward in her seat, elbows on the table. “Then what?”
Madison glanced at Brianna and Tucker. They sat super close, hands wrapped around each other, listening and waiting. She was so thankful no one was seriously hurt. After Tucker and Brianna explained the drama that went down at Walmart, Madison knew how lucky they had been.
Wanda chewed on her lip. “Madison and Peyton rushed to turn out the lights and get the weapons. I… I ran to the bedroom. I was going to get my father’s gun…”
“But?”
She swallowed a small sip of juice. “I panicked, locked the door, and stood there in the dark shaking like a leaf. When I saw him in the window outside, I froze. I thought if I didn’t move, maybe he would just go away.”
“He didn’t.” Peyton, obviously disgusted by the whole scene, stood up and walked over to the far window.
Wanda agreed. “He threw a rock through the window. Climbed in a minute later. I started screaming.”
“When she screamed, we rushed that way, banged on the door, tried to get it open.”
“That’s when he hit me.”
“And that’s how I hurt my shoulder.” Peyton glanced at Madison’s mom. “You have some solid doors in this place, Mrs. Sloane.”
She smiled, but it wasn’t happy. “Sorry you got hurt.”
Wanda spoke up. “I am, too. I never meant for this to happen. When the man crawled in through the window I pointed the gun at him, but he didn’t stop. He… he laughed.” She tucked the cardigan tighter around her shoulders. “After he hit me, I just reacted. I didn’t think it would hurt him that bad. I just… I wanted him to leave me alone. To leave all of us alone.”
Madison’s mom reached across the table and patted Wanda’s hand. The older woman wrapped her other fingers on top and squeezed. Something passed between them; Madison didn’t know if it was an apology and acceptance or just an acknowledgment of what happened, but when her mom pulled back, her face softened.
“What matters is that we’re all alive and mostly unharmed.”
“But what do we do about him?”
Her mom shook her head. “I’m not sure yet. We’ll need to wake him up. Find out what he knows and if he has any friends. Then we can decide.”
Madison’s eyes went wide. “You mean like an interrogation?”
Her mom shrugged. “I’d prefer to call it a question and answer period, but interrogation works.”
Wow. Her friends had commented over and over about how tough her mom had been, but Madison hadn’t appreciated it u
ntil now. She’d been the one to comfort Madison when she fell and scraped her knee. The mom who baked the best muffins on Saturday mornings and invited all of Madison’s friends over for every long weekend and holiday.
Tracy Sloane was the most caring, welcoming woman Madison knew. And now she proved herself to have a backbone of steel. Madison sat a little taller on the kitchen chair. If she could grow up to be half as brave and strong as her mom, she would consider it a success.
Her mom pushed back from the table and stood. “The guy is passed out cold. Let’s get the window secure. There’s some plywood in the garage. Then we can take shifts keeping watch, but otherwise, we should all try and get a good night’s sleep. We can wake him up and figure out what to do in the morning.”
Everyone around the table nodded.
“I’ll take the first shift.”
“Madison, are you sure, honey?”
Madison nodded.
“I’ll take second shift.” Brianna smiled at Madison. “I won’t be able to sleep much anyway.”
“All right. Thanks, girls. At the first sign of trouble, come get me.”
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Sloane, we’ll be fine.”
Madison’s mom sighed. “We’ve been through this. I’ll never get you kids to call me Tracy, will I?”
They all laughed and split up, some going to their sleeping bags, others to a last-minute drink from the counter. Madison headed toward her parents’ bedroom. As she pushed open the bedroom door, the man they held prisoner came into view.
He groaned and shifted in his restraints.
Madison gripped the shotgun tighter and shut the door behind her. Could she shoot him if she had to?
Madison didn’t know and she hoped she wouldn’t have to find out.
Chapter Fifteen
WALTER
Forest of Northern California
10:00 p.m.
Walter waved his arms back and forth as he stood in the beam of the headlights. The brightness eclipsed his entire vision and for a moment he wondered if death came on like this: a blinding light followed by whatever came next.
