Family

by Matthew Costello

  He picked up the thing he talked on.

  A walkie-talkie, whatever that was.

  “Okay, everyone. We kill the lights here. Then we’re going to go up the hill nice and slow. Then, we’ll see what we’re going to do.”

  Kate looked at Sam.

  Didn’t sound like much of a plan.

  See what we’re going to do?

  But then, lights killed, Sam started his car again.

  Kate looked behind, a smile to Ben, and then a look at the dark line of cars trailing behind them.

  “Stay inside for now,” Sam said, stopping the car at what appeared to be the top of a hill.

  Kate nodded.

  Sam held big binoculars as he got out of the car.

  A few of the other drivers walked up to him.

  Kate couldn’t hear what they were saying—their breath making smoky clouds, so cold on top of this hill. But as her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could see them pointing and gesturing one way, then the other.

  Ben asked a question. “Kate, are you scared?”

  Kate thought about lying. Instead, she turned back to the man and nodded. “Sure. A little. But we gotta do this. Save their kids.”

  Ben nodded back. Then, “I’m scared too. But I want to help.” He smiled, proud of his next statement. “I’ve always wanted to help. People always liked that about me.”

  “I’m sure they did, Ben. I know we do, Mom, me—”

  “Simon too!” Ben said, his smile broadening.

  “Especially Simon!” Kate said, laughing.

  And her little talk with Ben made some of her fear go away.

  Guess that’s how it works, she thought.

  Make someone else feel better, and well… you feel better.

  Then the group of people outside broke up, heading back to their cars, as Sam got back in.

  His eyes catching some of the light. Even with a beard she could tell that he looked concerned.

  Or, maybe some fear there as well?

  “All right.”

  He turned to her. “Let me tell you what we’re going to do. And…” Now a bit of a smile. “…what you’re going to do.”

  Kate nodded.

  “You still remember how to drive, right?”

  Another nod from Kate.

  And she listened to what was supposed to happen in the minutes to come.

  *

  Kate drove slowly, right in the middle of the four cars that had pulled away from the people on the hill.

  Sam had put Ben in one of the front cars, so she drove alone.

  Alone, the car empty to make room for the children they were to rescue.

  Kate gripped the steering wheel tightly. The lights were off, as with all the cars, but her eyes had adjusted to the darkness. A moon would help, but it would also help those who could spot them.

  They were to drive down the hill, then follow a twisting two-lane road that circled behind the house.

  Once there, they would wait.

  While the others—men, women, loaded with guns—crept slowly closer, leaving their cars on the hill.

  She had thought that would be so terrifying to do.

  To abandon your car, in the night.

  Walk through the brush and fields on foot, creeping down low, to surprise the people who held those kids captive.

  And then—when the others attacked from the front—as soon as they heard the guns firing, they were to come close to the house.

  To what looked like a small barn, a small building to the side where they had spotted the children being kept.

  Lights on in the main house.

  Voices carrying in the night.

  Everyone well fed.

  Her hands were locked on the steering wheel; her stomach tightened.

  The thought of what those people did, so calmly, with such care, terrified her. It made her want to throw up.

  It’s why she asked to do this.

  Her mother couldn’t.

  But she could.

  The line of cars reached the winding country road.

  They would get close.

  Then stop, windows open, the chilly night air snaking in.

  Engines killed.

  And wait.

  *

  It seemed to take forever.

  Sitting there, listening for the sound of the guns.

  Then the woman who drove the lead car—her face etched with lines, hair frizzy, flying in all directions—came back to the cars one by one.

  When she got to Kate…

  “You okay?”

  Kate nodded.

  The woman nodded back.

  Is she afraid as well? Kate wondered.

  “Soon as we hear the guns, we start up again. Not too close. Just enough so we can get to that building. There will be guards there, I guess. But they’ll be distracted. We need to shoot them.” She looked down at Kate’s rifle on the seat beside her. “You can shoot, hit things?”

  Kate had to clear her throat to answer. “Yes. I can.”

  “Good. Make every bullet count. Then…”

  The woman looked away, cocking an ear.

  Nothing yet.

  “…then we get in there. The kids will be scared. Really scared. Some of them will know what’s been happening. They’ll think we’re just like them. They’ll be so frightened they may fight back.”

  Kate nodded. “I-I can try to…” She searched for the word. “…calm them.”

  Only then did the woman smile.

  “Good. That’s why it’s a good thing you’re here.” A pause. “Almost a kid yourself.”

  Kate nodded.

  She felt anything but a kid.

  The woman started for the other cars behind Kate.

  While Kate—shivering in the seat, her right hand now resting on her gun, as if they could provide some security—waited.

  Then the gunfire.

  So sudden, exploding out of nowhere.

  To her left, Kate saw the brilliant sparks, the flashes from the guns.

  She also forgot to start her car until the car in front of her had resumed its slow creep along the highway, through the darkness.

  And with the window rolled up, she could still hear the guns blasting.

  This is what a war must sound like, she thought.

  Sam, the others, attacking the front of the building.

  Would Ben—so, so gentle—be okay, trying to help but with all that gunfire terrifying him?

  Kate also had to wonder, Would that be enough to distract the guards who watched the kids, guarding them like they were animals?

  She would know soon enough.

  CHAPTER 35

  The Rescue

  Christie leaned across the hood of the gray Toyota Camry, rifle pointed out to the darkness.

  She had said she could do a watch. A few hours on guard, at the circle of cars.

  One of the men, older, a bit wobbly in his walk as well, had said that wasn’t necessary.

  But in truth, Christie couldn’t imagine going to sleep until her daughter came back.

  She was so proud of her—how she came forward, and insisted that she go.

  And Christie knew there was no way she could, or should, stop her.

  But now, this waiting… It was terrible.

  At least Simon was sleeping.

  Or she hoped he was.

  They were all so sleep deprived, but she thought that she was starting to see signs that all this was changing Simon, hurting him.

  The way he’d gaze off, as if lost in thought, then come back.

  He needed sleep.

  The woman next to her, again older, left behind to make room for the kids they would be rescuing tonight.

  But also left behind to stand watch, keeping the circle safe.

  She had positioned herself next to Christie.

  “Feeling scared?” the woman said.

  “Now? Sure. Haven’t felt safe in a while.”

  The woman, who had been one of the few to s
tick out a hand and introduce herself—“Name’s Anna Devoe”—nodded. “Any stray Can Heads come this way and we can handle them.”

  There seemed to be a lot of people on guard around the circle. And as soon as the raiding party came back, they could divide the watch into shifts.

  Christie so wanted to sleep so badly.

  Just as soon as she knew Kate was safe.

  “But what about, you know… your daughter?”

  Christie turned and looked at the woman.

  Christie would have rather not talked about that at all. But then she realized that there might be some wisdom, some compassion, in the old woman’s question.

  Rather than just have the torturous, worried thoughts, maybe it would be better to talk about it.

  “Yeah. I’m scared.”

  “Makes sense. My kid, I’d worry too.”

  Christie wondered if this woman had children.

  Or did she have children and lose them?

  “That girl of yours… seems strong.”

  “She is. Been through a lot. Simon and I wouldn’t be here if not for her.”

  Then the old woman looked away.

  “Then she’ll be fine. Be good for the kids those animals keep to see her young face.” She took a breath. “Real good.”

  Christie nodded in the darkness.

  And then her mind went back to what was happening, right now, miles away.

  And she could only imagine…

  *

  The line of cars came only a little closer to the dark building where the children might be kept imprisoned.

  How must the kids be reacting to the gunfire?

  Would they know it represented hope, or just more terror in their lives?

  Kate saw the other people getting out, crouching low as they formed a line, scuttling toward the house, the small barn, the gunfire now before them.

  Just never stopping…

  Kate followed along, crouched down as well, though she thought that anyone who looked this way would easily spot them, this funny line of people streaming to the back of the garage.

  As they got closer, the woman in front held up a hand.

  They stopped, and Kate saw the woman standing there, just looking at the back of the building.

  And Kate could see what the woman saw.

  No way in through the back.

  They’d have to go around the front.

  And there would be people there, even with all the shooting out by the main house. They must have a guard there.

  Maybe more than one.

  But the line kept moving, and Kate with it.

  *

  Christie looked up to the sky.

  Still middle of the night, but she saw a slight glow to the east.

  Too early for dawn. A sliver of a moon about to rise?

  That would be good, she thought. Could see better.

  And again, her mind drifted to her daughter, as she thought really only one thing.

  Hurry. Come back fast.

  And then realizing what she was really thinking…

  Come back.

  *

  The woman in front stopped again. A quick look to all those behind her.

  In the darkness, she raised a hand, and Kate could barely make out what she was doing.

  Three fingers extended.

  Then she made the hand spin in the air.

  Then two fingers.

  Counting down.

  Then a last finger.

  Kate gripped her rifle tighter, moving her finger into the circle made by the trigger.

  Her other hand confirming that the safety was off.

  It felt like her heart was racing, that it might explode.

  The woman’s arm went down, and now everyone in the line surged forward, their slow crouch gone as they ran, full out, around to the front.

  As soon as Kate hit the corner of the building, she heard a blast, and a man standing in front of the garage doors fell forward, blood dripping from his mouth.

  Other people turned to face the main house.

  Because people would come from there now, even though they were under attack from the front.

  These… people… would act to protect their “food.”

  For a moment, Kate froze, and then she raced forward to the woman and a young man standing near her by the garage doors.

  The two of them rattled a chain.

  A bunch of padlocks snapped tight on the links, keeping the barn sealed.

  “What can I do?” Kate said.

  She looked over her shoulder. Then to the other men and women in their group who had all knelt down, guns pointed to where the firefight continued to rage.

  “Have to be fast. We get in there, they’ll be scared and…”

  Kate nodded. “I’ll help get them. Tell them it’s okay.”

  Then she saw the woman point her rifle barrel at the coil of locks and chain.

  A blast, chain breaking up but still one link held fast, and a second lock intact.

  “They’re coming. Some of them coming this way,” one of the kneeling people said.

  But the woman simply moved her rifle in a different direction, taking care that it pointed down at the other lock, to the ground, and not into the building itself.

  Another blast.

  The kids inside—they must be terrified, Kate thought.

  And now the man, not much older than Kate really, more of a boy, pulled at the freed chain, pulling its pieces through the latches that held the garage tight,

  Behind her, Kate heard constant firing from the people kneeling.

  They’d have to keep the people away while they freed the kids.

  The garage doors flew open.

  And Kate raced in first.

  She saw nothing. The smell of hay. Other, foul smells. Maybe from animals that used to live in here. The place so dark.

  But as her eyes adjusted to the even inkier darkness inside, she could see something.

  Shapes standing in the back.

  Huddled. Almost invisible.

  And despite the noise of the gunfire outside, Kate said—trying to make her voice and steady and strong as she could—“It’s okay. We’re here to help you. We’re here to get you away.”

  The line of shapes—maybe six, seven, eight, all different heights—none of them moved.

  So Kate walked over to them.

  With a few steps she saw eyes in that darkness, catching whatever little light there was.

  The eyes all locked on her.

  And Kate hoped that they could see her face a bit.

  Because she smiled.

  She smiled, and said, “We have to hurry. Before they come. You’re safe now.”

  She kept the smile on. “But we have to go now.”

  Then so slowly, so it would appear to be a gentle gesture, she extended her hand.

  Thinking, hoping, that one of them would take it.

  Please, she thought. Take my hand.

  Nothing. No movement.

  And then from the dark line of figurers, the terrified children standing, their backs to the corner of the barn, a single hand reached out.

  Kate gently closed on it.

  Then, she saw the woman behind her, letting her do this, and she whispered, “Everyone follow me. Fast as we can. Okay?”

  Did any heads bob “yes?”

  She couldn’t tell.

  All she could tell was that when she turned to leave this foul smelling barn, this prison for children, the gunfire seemed like it was now constant.

  She had to just keep moving, holding a little kid’s hand who had been brave enough to take hers.

  In the other, her gun, which she might still need, she knew.

  They were far from safety out of here.

  And Kate moved the line of kids out of the darkness of the barn’s corners, to the open door, to the mayhem of the guns outside, to the night.

  And—she hoped—to escape.

  CHAPTER 36

  They�
��re Coming

  Christie yawned. There was no one to take her place, not without waking kids like Simon, and the few really old, almost infirm, people.

  And they all needed sleep so badly.

  The woman next to her, Anna, at once fell asleep.

  And Christie let her have ten minutes before she gave her a gentle nudge and the woman awoke.

  “Must’ve dozed off,” the woman said.

  “It happens,” Christie said, smiling.

  Wouldn’t mind doing that myself, she thought.

  Ten minutes.

  Five minutes.

  Even one minute. Shut my eyes.

  That would be so precious.

  But soon the raiding party would be back.

  Kate, those kids.

  They could take turns guarding the circle.

  Soon, she thought. Has to be soon.

  But then she saw something out in the black wilderness that stretched from the circle of cars, off to a thick woods of mostly barren trees, but with some conifers looking tall and dark, shadowy in the night.

  Headlights. Heading this way.

  Instinctively, Christie straightened up.

  *

  Kate gave the small hand held in hers a little squeeze.

  And even though she heard bullets ripping into the wooden planks behind her, she paused to turn to the kids.

  Not a line now, still bunched together, but hands locked, a human web of clenched hands, their faces looking empty, eyes wide.

  “We’re going to—”

  A bunch of bullets flew what felt like inches from Kate’s head, splintering more of the wood boards behind her.

  “—crouch down, like this…”

  Kate demonstrated.

  The woman who had led them in was at the back, tapping kids, pointing down to the ground to get them to get as low as they could.

  “Now, fast!” Kate said.

  And she had to pull the hand she held hard, hoping that with all those interlocked hands, the group of kids would just get pulled along.

  She hit the corner of the building and quickly ran to the back, turning to where the cars were.

  For a moment, she couldn’t tell where the cars were. Everything looked different in the darkness.

  Were they just ahead, or did she have to cut a bit to the right?

  She had slowed, and a few of the kids had actually bumped into her, like toys on wheels that kept rolling even when she stopped.

  A moment’s hesitation.

  “Keep moving,” the woman at the back of the kids said.