by Lee West
She’d long ago given up hope that her parents would return to the neighborhood.
~ ~ ~
Sitting on the floor in one of the bedrooms facing the back of the house, Jane held the radio under the window. The handheld had a limited range, so they hoped to give their signal the best chance of reaching Charlie at the next safe house.
“Did he give us extra batteries for this?” she said, radio in hand.
“Yeah, he gave us a whole bunch, but considering the radio is our only means of communication, we should use it sparingly,” said Sam.
“Alright. I’ll give it a few tries. Maybe we’ll get lucky,” she said, pressing the transmit button.
The orange glow from the radio’s LED display cast a dim light in the room. She took her thumb off the button, worried that the light might give them away.
“Damn thing is bright,” she said.
“I totally spaced out on that—should have known better,” replied Sam. “I think we’re fine as long as nobody’s out for a walk in the woods, but I’ll lower the shades to make sure.”
Jane waited for her husband to finish with the blinds before trying again.
“Charlie…it’s Jane. You there? Charlie? It’s Jane. Over.”
Static filled the bedroom.
“Charlie? Hello? It’s Jane.”
“Maybe we should give it a little while and try again? It’s not quite midnight. He said to contact him between 12:00 a.m. and 12:30 a.m.,” said Sam.
“Okay, but I’ll leave it on in case he calls us first.”
They lay together on the single bed, holding each other while listening to the crickets and other insects they rarely heard during the summer months. They spent most of the summer holed up inside the house, windows shut and the central air conditioner working overtime to keep the heat and humidity at bay. The thought of air-conditioning reminded her that the house was stifling. Regardless of how sticky she felt, it was good to have Sam’s arms wrapped around her. Leaning against each other in the dark, taking in the stillness outside, Jane felt like they were the only people in this changed world.
After about fifteen minutes, she started to seriously overheat, sweat dripping onto the pillow.
“I’ll try again,” she said, looking for an excuse to get up.
“Charlie, you there? Over.”
Nothing.
“Charlie, it’s Jane. Over.”
Empty static answered her call. At 12:40 a.m. Sam took the radio out of Jane’s hand and turned it off. Pulling her closer to him, he said, “I know what you’re thinking, and they’re probably fine. It’s the distance. I wasn’t very confident we’d be able to reach them from here.”
“Thanks for saying that. I needed to hear it, even if I don’t believe it,” said Jane as she leaned into him—sweat be damned.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Charlie and Mike sat on the floor in Scott Marsh’s family room. The soft sound of Jenny’s deep, rhythmic breathing filled the otherwise silent room. If only they could all sleep so easily. Unfortunately, they weren’t out of the woods by a long shot. The Marshes’ situation underscored the problem presumably faced by everyone in the county—possibly the state or country. A problem that was on the verge of becoming a significant threat to everyone’s survival. The Marshes had very little in the way of essential supplies.
The Marshes’ house had been chosen as one of the safe houses because of its location along the route to the consolidated headquarters, with little regard to their meager and seriously depleted supply situation. Charlie shared all of the food and water Doris supplied them with, leaving the Marshes extremely grateful. It was the least they could do for a family that had taken on such an important role with no organized logistical support from the police.
They had become noticeably gaunter since the last time Charlie had seen them. Seeing their condition, he suggested that they visit Doris. He knew Doris would be more than willing to resupply them. Although Barbara seemed willing, even excited to go to Doris’s house, Scott wouldn’t budge. He couldn’t tell if fear or pride drove the decision, and it didn’t matter. In order to survive, he’d have to get over it and make the trip to Doris’s. The route was safe enough, though he couldn’t blame Scott for worrying about the outside world. After what Charlie had seen, he wouldn’t blame anyone for staying put.
“You should try it again. One more time,” said Mike.
“Jane…you there? It’s Charlie. Jane?”
More static. Charlie had already tried several times, with no success.
“It’s useless. They’re probably out of range. I thought we would be close enough, but I guess I was wrong,” said Charlie.
“Or something happened,” said Mike.
“Or that, which is all the more reason to stop trying to contact them. If something did happened to Jane and Sam, whoever is on the other end could be listening to us. Last thing we need is one of the New Order guys actively looking for whomever is on the other end of the radio.”
“I know you’re right, but I feel bad just sitting here comfortably knowing they could be in danger,” said Mike.
“I’ll leave for their house before sunup and check on the situation. I should be able to get there around mid to late morning. If anything, I can confirm they’re fine, then come back here to take you and Jenny the rest of the way to headquarters,” said Charlie.
“I’ll go with you. No way am I letting you go there on your own.”
“I appreciate the offer, but you need to stay here and keep Jenny calm. She needs to rest or we’ll never make it to the HQ. Once we leave here, we’ll travel across some heavily populated areas. We’ll need to be more agile, moving as fast as possible, responding to or avoiding threats as they arise. Right now, Jenny is exhausted. She could barely make it here—and it was an easy stroll along the horse trail,” said Charlie.
“I know you’re right, but it just sucks to send you out there alone, especially with Jane and Sam potentially in trouble.”
“I plan to make my way into the neighborhood and watch their house from a distance. I’ll just get a look at what’s happening from a safe vantage point. If they are in trouble, we can work up a plan to go back and rescue them.”
“Deal,” said Mike.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Early the next morning, before the sun rose, Jane resumed her post in the master bedroom window. Things appeared calm across the street. Jane assumed the guys were all still sleeping, because none of them had materialized in the side yard to urinate. Again, Jane’s mind turned dark as she fantasized about shooting each man as he relieved himself on her flowers.
“Anything yet?” asked Sam as he walked into the bedroom.
“No. I don’t think they’re up yet. No one has come out to pee.”
“Do you think they leave at all during the day? Where would they go?”
“I’m guessing they leave. Probably to steal stuff from somewhere else. Whatever our neighbors didn’t take north has obviously been stolen. Plus, you’d think they’d go crazy from the boredom. These idiots need constant entertainment. Without television or video games, I suspect they’ll take off at some point.”
As Jane said the words, her mind flashed images of Lea being used as “entertainment” by five men. Seeing the look on Sam’s face, she was sure he had considered the same thing. She needed Sam to be a rock for her—and Lea. She quickly changed the subject before either of them started talking about it.
“How about a snack while we wait? I’m sure they’re just sleeping off their hangovers. Once cottonmouth and the need to pee starts breaking through the hangover fog, they’ll start piling out. We’ll get our chance to search the house. Part of me thinks we should just shoot them as they come outside. One by one.”
“You mean assassinate them in cold blood?” said Sam.
“Yes—that is exactly what I’m suggesting. I don’t see how this is going down without someone dying. I would rather they die,” said Jane, with a fierce
look in her eye.
“I absolutely agree. I have no problem killing each and every one of those lunatics, but we need to determine if Lea is inside before we start shooting. If she’s in there, we can’t take the chance of screwing up the ambush. They could use her as a human shield and take off with her. Then what? First we find her. If we can’t sneak her out, we’ll come up with a plan.”
A few minutes later, the short, skinny guy walked out the back door and pissed on Jane’s flowerpots.
“Really? You had to hit the pots too? Isn’t it enough that you all ruined my beds?” complained Jane.
Tank and each of the other four men rotated in and out of the yard throughout the morning to relieve themselves. As the hours ticked by, Jane began to wonder if they were wrong about the guys leaving. Other than the predictable rotation into the yard, there were no real signs that the entire group would ever leave the house. Maybe she would get to shoot one of them pissing on her flowers.
“How long do you think we should wait? Maybe we need to create a diversion that will draw all of them out? Then one of us can sneak in to search while they’re out of the house,” said Jane.
“Not yet. Let’s give it at least a full day. If we still haven’t been able to get inside the house by the end of the day, we can talk to Mark and see if he’s willing to help us create some sort of diversion,” said Sam.
“That’s a lot to ask of Mark, and I’m not sure what he can do for us with a crossbow.”
“He is a Marine. I suspect he would be willing to help. Besides, he has way more at his disposal than a crossbow.”
“What do you mean?”
“While the two of you were crouched at the window, looking at our house, I happened to notice the tip of a gun sticking out from under a blanket. Given the size of the mass concealed by the blanket, my guess is that Mark is sitting on quite the arsenal.”
“Interesting. Maybe he built the third-floor storage access to hide more than just sensitive computer equipment.”
“That would be my guess—” started Sam.
Before he could finish his sentence, the side door to their home across the street burst open with a loud bang. All five men scrambled out of the house in a jumbled rush. Tank and one man hopped into the Trans Am while the other three loaded into the pickup truck. The two vehicles roared out of the driveway and raced past the Cramers’ house, heading out of the neighborhood.
“Here’s our chance. Let’s go!” said Sam, grabbing his rifle.
Jane snagged her rifle and ran with Sam through the Cramers’ house, desperate to find their daughter.
~ ~ ~
The sound of the back door slamming shut roused Lea from a light sleep. Hearing the door slam, she assumed the guys had left for the day, as they often did. Sitting quietly, straining to listen to the noises in the house, Lea waited to be sure they were all gone before she furiously sawed at the ropes.
One time, Lea had thought they were gone, but didn’t realize Tank sat quietly alone upstairs. The sound of her bracelet tapping against the metal pole drew him into the basement. He untied her and yanked her to her feet by her hair, ripping out a large clump in the process. Once she was standing, he punched her in the stomach so hard that she flew across the room, bashing her head and back against the furnace. This time, she would be more careful.
After a few minutes of listening intently for the slightest movement upstairs, Lea began to work on the ropes with all her strength and concentration. If she could just get a little more to fray, she might be able to pull the rest of the rope strands away with her teeth. The back door creaked open slowly, gently closing. That asshole was trying to trick her! Not happening. She sat perfectly still and waited.
~ ~ ~
Charlie worked his way through Jane’s neighborhood, carefully moving between the remains of burnt houses. He could hardly believe the New Order had nearly burned the neighborhood to the ground. Knowing Jane’s street address but not the layout of the neighborhood made his progress slower than he would have liked. He hoped to get to her house, check in and make it back to Scott’s before dark. At this rate, he was not sure he would make it.
Finally, he spotted their street sign through his binoculars and calculated that the house should be about midway down the street. He started to work his way through the bushes and trees separating the lots, concealing his approach as best as possible from observation in all directions. When he was one house away, he decided to hide in the wild grasses behind the next-door neighbor’s home and watch Jane’s house from a safe distance. Surveillance was warranted in a situation like this. He wanted to be sure he did not walk into a trap.
After settling into place, Charlie watched as five men took turns whizzing on Jane’s flowers. There was no sign of either Sam or Jane. The men looked to be New Order types, heavily tattooed and unkempt. Charlie knew there was no way either Jane or Sam was in their house with these men. He also suspected that if they had already been caught, he might see evidence of their demise. The neighborhood’s streets were marked by frequent splatters or long smears of dried blood, but nothing to indicate a recent execution.
When the men piled out of the Archers’ house and drove away at full speed, Sam considered investigating the house before returning to the safe house. Before he could lift himself from the ground, Jane and Sam crossed the street, running toward their house. In an instant, he knew exactly what they were doing, searching for Lea. He started to rise, but thought better of it. If either of them saw movement, they might open fire and accidentally kill him. Charlie stayed low, waiting for the right time to call out their names—but they vanished into the house before he could say anything.
He determined to stay put and offer them over-watch protection. From his position, he could cover the driveway and the approaching street. If the New Order returned, he would be ready for them.
Chapter Forty
Walking through the side door of their house, Sam didn’t feel like it was home anymore. He glanced at Jane to determine if she felt it too. The look of anger on her face confirmed that she felt the same way. The house had been stained by these foul beasts, and no amount of physical repair or cleaning could set that right again.
Dishes sat piled high in the sink and all over the counter. The pantry shelves were picked clean, the garbage overflowed, and dried spills covered the counters and floor. A strong slightly sweet smell of rotting garbage clung to Sam’s nose as he ventured further into the house.
“We should start upstairs and move as quickly as possible,” whispered Jane.
“Okay, let’s stay together. Who knows, there could be another guy tucked away in this mess. I don’t want any surprises.”
“Me neither,” said Jane, aiming her rifle up the stairway and leading them slowly up.
The bedrooms and bathrooms looked exactly as Sam expected. The New Order guys didn’t discriminate between their partying zone and sleeping areas. Both were equally disgusting. A huge fist-sized hole greeted them at the top of the stairs, adjacent to the closed bathroom door. With Jane covering the bedroom hallway with her weapon, Sam quietly opened the door and pushed it in several inches. The moment the bathroom came into view, he wished he’d kept the door shut.
A deep brown sludge overflowed down the edges of the toilet, the stench nearly causing him to gag. Flies buzzed angrily around the bowl, undisturbed by his entry. Broken glass from the shattered bathroom mirror littered the sink basin and floor. He leaned as far in as he could tolerate to check the bathtub for Lea. They had to be thorough. Alive or dead, if she was in this house, they had to know. Based on what he’d seen so far, he couldn’t imagine she was alive—if she’d been here when Tank arrived. His head reached a point inside where he could see enough of the bathtub to determine that she wasn’t lying in the feces-filled tub.
Jane glanced over her shoulder when he closed the door, looking for some kind of answer. He winked at her, indicating that it was all right. His wife edged forward, easing into place next
to Lea’s door. Sam leaned against the opposite side of the hallway, covering the other bedroom doors.
“Lea?” whispered Jane into Lea’s room. “Lea?”
They waited, listening for movement. When nothing stirred, Jane entered her room, followed by Sam, who stood guard at the door. Over his shoulder, he saw the same mess as they’d left throughout the rest of the house. Wrappers. Beer cans. Cigarette butts. On closer inspection, her room appeared to have suffered the most damage that they’d seen so far.
Evidence of rage clung to the walls, unnerving Sam. It appeared that someone had kicked two holes in the wall near Lea’s bed. Sam feared the worst for his only child. Seeing her childhood room in this condition broke Sam’s heart—and stoked his rage.
“I’m going to kill every last one of them,” whispered Sam.
“We’ll worry about that later. Look around for her stuff. If she managed to leave, she would have taken her phone and purse at the very least—even without power, she’s addicted to that phone. Sunglasses, too. I’m not sure what else, but I know she never leaves home without those. We should check for her hiking boots or running shoes downstairs,” suggested Jane as she searched Lea’s room.
“I don’t see anything that she normally uses. Even her favorite hairbrush is gone.”
“I know. And there’s nothing downstairs to indicate she’s still living here.”
“Let’s check the other bedrooms and downstairs again. Maybe we missed something.”
The remaining bedrooms held no clues about Lea’s fate—just more trash and human waste. They carefully made their way back down the stairs and looked around for anything they might have missed. Sam searched the landing area next to the kitchen for Lea’s shoes. He found her running shoes, but her hiking boots were gone. All signs pointed to the likelihood that she’d bolted north with the neighbors when it became apparent that things would get out of control in Evansville. He hoped she was safe, wherever she’d landed.
