by Amber Garr
I gave him our cards and spared a quick, nervous glance at Vee. She chewed on her fingernail, eyes darting back and forth between the tank and the gate where our families waited. Hopefully, I thought gravely. Her hand found mine again and this time I didn’t want to let go.
“We’re on lock down,” the soldier said, handing back our IDs. “No one leaves.”
“Can we go in?” Vee asked.
“Yes. Just give us a minute to move the barricade.”
And by barricade, he meant the tank. With a wave of the soldier’s hand, the giant metal beast roared to life, inching slowly out of the way. “This must be what it’s like in Europe,” I said.
“What?” Vee asked, still focused on the tank.
“Living in a military state like this. We’ve had it good for a long time.”
Vee didn’t respond and instead clutched my hand even tighter. A moment later, the soldier waved us forward and I eased my way through the blockade. Concrete barricades filled the space the tank couldn’t cover, and I wondered why all of this was necessary. But as soon as we reached the guard house, I knew why. Someone had blown it to pieces.
“There’s Doomsday Danny’s sign,” Vee said, pointing to a singed piece of cardboard lying on the ground. “Oh no,” she whispered.
“I’m sure he’s okay,” I said, not sure at all.
The tires crunched over broken glass and concrete debris that now littered the entry road. As soon as we cleared the gap, I heard the tank move back into position and watched in the rearview mirror as the soldiers readied their guns for action.
“This doesn’t feel right,” Vee said. We passed by houses and streets that, just this morning, had been filled with refugees. Now they were devoid of all life, with only remnants of tents and clothing left behind in haste. “I thought they said we couldn’t leave?”
“Yeah, something’s going on,” I muttered to myself. “We should check with my dad.”
“Let’s go to your house first,” Vee said and I looked at her in surprise. “My parents might already be there.”
Nodding, I made the turn onto the road that connected our two houses. As I pulled into the driveway, a wave of relief swept through me when I saw my parents standing out front. My mother’s arms flailed about wildly as she argued with my dad. But it was his pinched brow and dark circles under his eyes that worried me more than the tank sitting outside our complex.
Vee jumped out of the car before I even pulled to a stop. “Are my parents here?” I heard her shout.
My mom quickly turned her head, seemingly unaware of our presence until that moment. I climbed out in time to hear her response. “They just left to go pack a few things.”
“Pack?” I asked, but Vee was already dashing out of the driveway. “Vee!” I shouted.
She lifted her hand but didn’t turn around. “I’ll go get them and be right back.”
As the pink streak in her hair disappeared around the fence, I faced my parents. “Pack for what?”
“We’re leaving,” my dad said. He stepped inside the front door and came out a moment later with two large duffle bags in his hands. “It’s not safe here anymore.” Walking past me, he threw them into the Jeep with a loud thud. What had he packed in there?
“No shit,” I said.
“Zachary!” my mom hushed me. “Language.”
I had to smile, knowing that could still be an issue amidst our life imploding around us. “Sorry, Mom.” Turning back to my dad, I added, “You know that they won’t let us leave?”
He ignored me for a Moment, choosing instead to play around with something in the Jeep. “We can leave if we want.”
“That’s not what the soldier told us,” I said.
“What soldier?” my mom asked.
“At the gate. He said that we’re on lock-down and—”
“We can leave,” my dad interrupted, his voice dark and rough. “I grabbed some clothes for you, Zachary, but if there’s anything else you want, you better go in and get it now. We’ll leave as soon as the Witterlys come back.”
“We’re leaving together?” I asked, relieved that Vee’s family had been included in our escape plans.
My dad nodded and walked around me toward the garage. “I’m going to fill up the car. Mary, can you come help me search the garage for anything else we might need?”
Jumping to attention, my mom quickly followed my dad around the side of the house. Heeding his suggestion, I ran inside and up to my room, taking the stairs two at a time. I pushed the door open only to see a disaster in front of me. “I really should have cleaned this place,” I muttered to myself.
Wondering what to grab, I thought about what our new life would be like—only to realize that I had no idea where we were going or what we’d be facing. Thinking that warm clothes might be a necessity no matter what, I grabbed my football warm-ups and a fleece jacket. My eyes traveled over the trophies sitting on my dresser. Those days were over, and an unfamiliar pain wedged itself in my stomach. It wasn’t that I’d miss playing sports, it was that the life I’d always known had disappeared today in an instant.
I shook those thoughts from my head and grabbed my pillow. Why? I didn’t really know but at least I’d have something familiar with me. Tucking my items under my arm, I ran back down the steps and slid to a halt just before hitting the front door. I don’t know why I did it, but my feet carried me into the kitchen. Most of the cabinet doors were open and I saw that all of our dehydrated food and cans had been taken. I guessed that was what made the loud noise when the bags hit the floor of the Jeep.
The refrigerator had been unplugged and the door propped open with the empty trash can. I smiled, thinking about how my mother never could leave the house without cleaning it first. A car honked outside and I peered out the window to see that Vee and her family had just arrived.
“Zachary!” my dad called. “Let’s go!”
I turned to leave but then spotted something on the counter. As though calling to me, I reached out for the knives still sitting in their perfect little holder—arranged according to size. Without a second thought, I dug through the drawers below to find two dish towels, and started rolling up the knives in a series of flips. By the time I finished, I’d managed to wrap up all but one of the top-of-the-line kitchen knives and hastily shoved them into my pillow case.
I didn’t know where we were going but having a weapon on hand probably wouldn’t hurt.
When I closed the front door, my mom was standing there waiting for me. She took the warm-ups and jacket out of my hands. I held tightly onto the pillow. My dad was leaning into the car window, talking to Sampson, Vee’s dad.
“Let’s go,” my mom said quietly, wrapping her arm around my back. I towered over her, but she still managed to make me feel small sometimes.
“Have you heard from Jen?” I asked. My older sister was in Boston, trying to go to college and live a normal life.
“She’s going to meet up with your uncle Dermot and stay with them if things get bad.” Her voice quivered and I knew that she would have given anything to have the whole family here now. But my sister had worn them down. And once she got her scholarship, they couldn’t deny her access to a free education—even if it meant that she’d be so far away.
“But you talked to her?” I asked.
“A couple of days ago, yes.” My mom threw my clothes on top of the bags and started to climb in the front seat. “Don’t worry, she’s fine.” And I wasn’t sure if she said that more for me than for her.
“Dermot has a safe house lined up. He’d been preparing for this for years,” my dad added about his brother. “Come on, we need to go.”
I looked toward the end of our driveway where Vee and her family sat waiting in their Volvo wagon. Her bright blue eyes peered out of the rear window, a slight smile appearing on her face when she spotted me watching her. “Are you all right?” I mouthed, and she nodded.
“Zachary,�
� my dad called out the driver’s side. “Get in. She’s fine.”
I thought I saw a little glimmer of something mischievous in my dad’s eyes as he yelled at me. He’d been giving me a hard time about Vee this past year, telling me not to pass up a good thing. And no matter how many other girlfriends I’d had, he’d only ever teased me about Vee.
“Okay, this might get a little rough,” my dad said as we backed out of the driveway.
“What?” my mom asked.
“We can’t go through the main gate so we had to find another way.”
“There’s another way out of the compound?” I asked.
My dad smiled as he drove in the opposite direction of the front gate. “There is now.”
“What did you and Sampson do?” my mother asked, accusation tainting her tone.
“I didn’t do anything.”
I laughed at my dad’s ability to avoid answering my mother’s questions. Sampson liked to tinker, and I had a feeling he’d tinkered a way for us to get out of a wall that previously had no escape.
“David?” my mom continued to pry, but my dad just pointed. There, ahead of us and at the end of what used to be a dead-end street, was a hole in the compound wall large enough for a car to fit through.
“Nice,” I said with admiration and my dad smiled at me through the mirror.
“Sampson has quite the arsenal stored under his shed.”
“What?” my mother cried out and I laughed at the look on her face. She glared at me and I slunk back in my seat.
“We don’t know if this has been discovered yet, so keep an eye out for the soldiers.” My dad slowed down and let Vee’s family catch up. With a wave of his hand and some secret signal he and Sampson had, he pushed on the gas and drove us toward the wall. Debris rustled the Jeep, flying up and hitting the metal with a screeching plea to stop. Or maybe it was a warning. But either way, my dad never slowed again. He sped over the pieces of old wall with a smile on his face until we busted through to the other side.
I turned in my seat, looking behind me to make sure Vee made it out too. Surprisingly, their car had no issues clearing the debris and just a few seconds after us, they barreled out of the compound. I cheered and my dad laughed. My mom sat in the front, face pale and shock skirting around the edges of her eyes. Reaching across the seat, my dad grabbed her hand. It reminded me of Vee and I swallowed hard at the memory.
“David!” my mom suddenly yelled, bracing her free hand against the dash.
“Shit,” he muttered a second before I saw them. A large government truck and three soldiers sat in the middle of the road with guns pointing right at us. Slamming on the brakes, my dad swerved and I fell forward between the seats, body at the mercy of momentum.
“Don’t stop, Dad!” I shouted. “There’re only three of them.”
My dad turned to look at me, and for a brief second I watched him contemplate my words. But then he shook his head and stopped the car. “No, I can’t risk it. I’ll just tell them that I’ve been called into work.”
“And what about Vee?” I asked, worry clenching my voice at the sound of her name.
“I’ll take care of it,” he said.
And I believed him. I had to believe him. Because if we couldn’t even get out of our compound, how would we survive what waited ahead?
When the soldiers started walking closer, my dad lifted his hands in a show of surrender. “Don’t make any sudden moves and don’t speak,” he said. His dark eyes focused on me until I nodded. I slowly slid back into my seat, turning my body enough to see Vee’s car directly behind us. They’d stopped just inches from our bumper.
“Sir, please step out of the car,” the soldier said. His dark skin glistened under the glare of the sun but his attention never faltered.
“My name is David Scott and I work for NDRA. I’ve been called in to assist with the attacks.” If I wouldn’t have known otherwise, I would have believed my dad. His voice never even wavered as the lie crossed his thin lips. Slowly reaching out the window, he handed the soldier his government ID. “Please, this is a time sensitive matter.”
Seconds felt like hours as the government guard looked over my dad’s qualifications. “Why didn’t you go out the front gate?”
“We tried, but they were dealing with another intrusion. They directed us this way.”
I was so proud of my dad.
“Who are they?” the soldier jerked his head toward Vee and her family.
“Sampson Witterly and his wife and daughter.” He said the name like it should be familiar to the soldier. But it wasn’t and I watched as suspicion crept over the man’s face.
“Another government employee?” he asked my dad with a hint of doubt.
“Yes,” he lied, and I wished a thousand times over that they wouldn’t ask for proof.
“Wait here,” the soldier said. He returned to the other two guards standing ten feet in front of us. They spoke briefly, nodding and lowering their guns, before the soldier returned to our car.
“Okay, Mr. Scott. Go on through.”
Relief surged through me, speeding my heart and calming me down at the same time. My mom spared a quick glance back to me and I smiled.
“Thank you, sir.”
My dad slowly pulled forward when the soldiers cleared a path. We turned slightly to the left to go around the large Hummer, bouncing over the curb in order to pass. I kept shifting my gaze from the path ahead to Vee’s car behind. It looked like they were waving them through as well.
“I can’t believe that worked,” I said, just a second before the soldiers raised their guns and stopped Vee’s car dead in its track.
“Dad!” I yelled. “They stopped them!” Panic clenched my chest as I reached for the door handle.
“Don’t,” my dad said and I stopped. “You can’t go running out there.”
“But Dad, what about Vee and her parents?”
All three of us looked back in time to see the soldiers yanking them from their car with much more force than was necessary. The men pushed Vee’s dad to the ground flat on his stomach, and jerked his hands behind his head with little concern for his comfort. Vee and her Mom sat on their knees, faces pressed against the car and palms splayed to the side.
“David, what are they doing?” my mom whispered through her tears. “Why are they treating them like criminals?”
I heard my dad take a deep, shuddering breath. “I don’t know.”
“We have to do something!” I shouted.
“Keep your voice down,” my dad snapped.
We’d captured the attention of the soldier who’d stopped us, now noticing that we weren’t moving forward. He jerked his gun toward us, telling us to keep moving.
“David…” my mom prodded.
“Dad?”
He hesitated long enough that I thought we were going to leave them behind. My blood boiled inside as a hot trail of rage built from my stomach and down to my toes. I’d do this myself if I had to.
But instead of moving forward, my dad put the Jeep in reverse and backed up around the Hummer and closer to the guards. One of the two holding a gun on Vee and her Mom spotted us and turned his sights toward my dad. Aware, but unafraid, my dad opened his door. “Both of you stay here,” he demanded with a sidelong glance at me.
“David, please don’t.” My mom reached across the empty space to stop him but it was too late. He stepped outside, arms raised over his head, and slowly stepped toward the lead soldier.
“What is he doing?” I asked the silence. My mom’s quiet sobs were the only answer I got.
“Is there a problem?” my dad asked.
I lowered my window so that I could hear better. Vee’s eyes glistened with fresh tears but her jaw was set in a familiar clench. She was pissed.
“Get back to your car, now.” The soldier commanded my father as though he should listen.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that until you tel
l me why you have this family on the ground.”
The soldier stiffened and gave a silent command to the guard standing closest to the Jeep. He bobbed his head and then started to walk closer.
“Oh no,” my mom whispered.
I shifted in my seat to follow his path, feet kicking my pillow now lying on the floor. Suddenly remembering what else was inside, I lifted it to my seat, trying not to make any fast moves that might attract attention.
“What are you doing?” my mom hissed. I spared her a quick glance, begging her to be quiet. She gasped when I pulled the knives from the pillow case. “Zachary, put those away,” she demanded through gritted teeth.
“No,” I said, sliding the largest one under my leg and palming one of the steak knives.
“Zachary—”
But her protests were cut short when the soldier reached the side of the Jeep and the barrel of his gun weaved back and forth, pointing at the two of us in warning.
“That is not necessary,” my dad said, voice slightly higher than usual. “We just needed to get to work.”
“You may have,” the lead soldier grunted. “But they certainly don’t.” He stepped closer to Sampson while the remaining guard took over watching Vee and her Mom. “This man does not work for the government,” he spat.
“He’s a private contractor,” my dad countered. “Did you even bother to check his ID?”
“That wasn’t necessary. I know who he is.”
He did? I looked at my mom and she shrugged. What had Sampson done to put his family at risk like this?
“Will you please give us a chance to explain?” my dad asked, inching closer to the soldier. He was up to something. I narrowed my eyes and tried to ignore the loud, breathing of the young guard standing just inches away from my window.
“The time for explanations is over,” he said. “Lieutenant Miller,” he called out to the soldier next to us, “Call for backup.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, and looked down to pull a radio out of his pocket.
But before he could press the button, all hell broke loose. My dad shot forward and punched the lead soldier in the face so hard, they both fell to the ground. Wanting to process what just happened, but running out of time, I immediately jumped into action. Grabbing the door handle and preparing for the impact, I slammed the door into Lieutenant Miller. Shocked and caught off guard, he stumbled back, giving me enough time to get out of the car.
