Tempest

by Kenny Soward

  “Hey, hey,” Sara said, putting her hand on his arm. “Remember what I said. He’s going to be fine.”

  “Yeah, but let’s face it, Mom,” Todd said looking around with wet, red eyes. “The storm we got yesterday is nothing compared to what hit Boston. I mean, this is like a drop in the bucket. Boston got hit with two hundred mile per hour winds, and a tornado on top of it. And another storm is heading their way. The flooding alone—”

  “I know.” Sara gripped his arm tighter and then reached out to touch his face like she used to when he was a little boy, yet she held back. “And I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you. It’s bad in Boston.” Sara felt tears welling up in her own eyes, and her voice quivered as she continued. “You’re absolutely right. Things look terrible for him right now. I’m worried sick, too. But he’s still your dad, and we won’t give up on him until we know something for sure.”

  It was the first time Sara had allowed herself to even consider that her husband might not have survived in Boston, and the thought shook her to the core.

  “I need you to look at me, Todd,” Sara said angrily, waiting until Todd turned his head toward her and looked down with his pale blue eyes. His father’s eyes. “I need you to be strong for me right now. I need you to be strong for your sister, too.”

  Todd’s entire countenance changed as he noticed the deep emotion etched on his mother’s face, and his expression softened almost immediately. He put both arms around her and pulled her to him in a tight bear hug.

  “I got you, Mom.”

  Sara hugged him back. “We’ve got each other.”

  “What are you guys doing?”

  Sara broke the embrace and turned to see Zoe walking toward them through the wet and muddy grass with her galoshes on her feet and a tail-wagging Rex at her side.

  “Just the gal we wanted to see.” Sara crouched down and opened her arms to her daughter. “Come here, Zo.”

  “Okay.” Zoe gave Sara a doubtful look but dutifully came over, her rubber boots splashing through the wetness.

  When she got there, Sara embraced her daughter and gestured for Todd to come down. Todd crouched beside them, putting one arm over his mother’s shoulders and the other around his sister.

  “You guys are so weird,” Zoe said, but she hugged them back.

  “You’re the weird one,” Todd said with a sniff.

  Sara was too choked up to say anything else, so she let the moment linger as long as she could.

  Chapter 19

  Jake, Boston, Massachusetts | 5:27 p.m., Sunday

  Jake sat against the wall of their fifteen-by-twenty-foot cell with his fist clenched on his knee. He hadn’t anticipated how much he’d hate being locked up until it happened, and part of him wished he’d done something to take the gun away from Hawk or Raven and turn the tables.

  “You okay?” Marcy asked in a low voice next to him.

  “I’m fine,” Jake growled low. “I’m just aggravated that we let ourselves get caught.”

  “Don’t be too hard on us. These people are criminals. We never saw them coming.”

  “We should have.” Jake shook his head and looked around. There were seventeen other people in the cell with them—men, women, and children—all prisoners of a gang leader by the name of Tre.

  “At least we’re not alone, huh?” Marcy offered with a hopeful tone.

  Jake stood and went to the big sliding wooden door. There were cracks in the wood, and he could see out into the warehouse where most of the activity was happening. The constant whirring of forklift motors echoed through the tall space, and Jake occasionally caught sight of one as it moved into his field of vision with a pallet of goods on its forks.

  As far as he knew, there were two guards at the door, each carrying an AR-15 rifle. They were decent enough to let people out to use the restroom once every two hours, or if it was an emergency. No one wanted the makeshift cell to turn into a public toilet, so it was in their best interest to see that everyone had a good number of breaks. They’d even brought food and water in for everyone, and Jake couldn’t help but notice the juice and water bottles were from their packs from the Westin.

  Looking around, it appeared these people were from the neighborhood. Some even seemed to know each other and were talking in low whispers. Jake spotted a man who appeared to be in his fifties seated on the floor at the back of the cell, and he went over to him and squatted down.

  “Been here long?” Jake asked.

  “About a day and a half,” the man replied. “I was the first one they brought in.”

  “Why?” Jake asked. “I mean, I can understand why they’re stockpiling goods, but why keep people here? It’s just more trouble for them.”

  “Everyone here has a purpose,” the man said, and he turned his eyes on a man standing in one corner with a woman and a little boy. “That’s Suarez. He’s a mechanic, one of the only people in here who can service those forklifts out there. That’s his purpose.” Then the man’s eyes moved across the cell to a tall woman wearing jeans and a T-shirt. “That’s Blake. She’s former military, and she helps Suarez on maintenance duty. That’s her purpose.”

  “And you?” Jake asked. “What’s yours?”

  The man looked up at Jake and lifted his voice in a proud tone. “I’m an electrician going on thirty years now. I’m the one that helped them get the backup generator working and rigged all the lights. That’s my purpose.”

  Jake nodded in understanding, admittedly impressed with Tre’s use of local resources to keep his enterprise functioning.

  The man looked up at Jake with an inquisitive stare. “What’s your purpose? You and the lady.”

  “We don’t have an official purpose, yet,” Jake said.

  “Tre will find yours soon enough, whether you’ve got one or not.”

  “I’m Jake,” Jake said, holding out his hand.

  “Henry,” the man said, but he didn’t take Jake’s hand.

  Jake lowered his hand, and his voice. “You think about getting out of here yet, Henry?”

  “Escaping?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Now, how are we going to do that?” Henry shook his head at Jake as if he were some flighty teenager. “Even if we get out of here, where are we going to go with the storm raging out there?”

  “I understand what you’re saying,” Jake said. “But what about—”

  “The roof of my own home caved in on top of me,” Henry said, cutting Jake off. “And I’ll bet there’s a lot of lawlessness out there, too. Think any of us are going to out-shoot the ones with the guns? No, we’ve got food and water here. We’re relatively safe, at least until the law comes and shuts these punks down. Safe from the storm, safe from the other gangs, and safe from the shadow.”

  “The shadow?” Jake’s brows furrowed with a questioning expression.

  “Something out there,” Henry tilted his head to indicate something in the city. “Something out there’s killing people.”

  “Yeah, the storm. And I’m sure people are starting to fight over food.”

  “No, it’s not that,” Henry said in a flat tone. “There’s something out there killing people, and it ain’t the gangs. It ain’t the storm. It’s something else.”

  “What, you mean some kind of maniac is on the loose?” Jake asked, staring into Henry’s eyes to see if he was joking.

  Henry lowered his voice, and his eyes shifted toward the front of the cell. “I found a corpse next to my apartment right after the storm. I thought it might be my neighbor, but I couldn’t tell. It was all torn apart, like nothing I’d ever seen. Not like it was done with a knife or a gun, and no rubble fell on them or anything like that. They were just ripped apart and stuffed down into the stairwell.”

  “That could have been anything, Henry,” Jake said with an incredulous look. “That could have been—”

  “That’s when I saw the shadow hiding behind a pile of garbage cans and debris,” Henry went on. “It was big, and it was slippin
g up on me in the alley, so I didn’t stick around to see it. I ran from the shadow like I was running from death itself.”

  A shiver ran through Jake at the man’s conviction. Henry believed what he was saying was true, but Jake couldn’t let himself get caught up in some urban legend or a crazy man’s fantasies. There were plenty of things out there that could kill a person. A shadow wasn’t one of them. He glanced over at Marcy who had been watching them the entire time, and she tilted her head with a questioning look.

  “Thanks, Henry.” Jake stood to go back to Marcy when Henry reached out and grabbed his arm to stop him.

  Henry fixed Jake with a firm look. “Let me give you a piece of advice, Jake. They’re going to take you upstairs to see Tre soon, and you’ll want to tell him how you’re going to be useful to X-Gang. Doesn’t matter what it is. Some skill, talent, or hobby.”

  “My purpose?”

  “That’s right,” Henry said, pointedly. “Otherwise, you’re going to be put out in the streets, or worse. And don’t think about escaping. Don’t try to run. You’re way safer here, trust me.”

  “Safer from the shadow?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I’ll keep all that in mind.” Jake shook off Henry’s hand and went back over to sit next to Marcy with Henry’s warning echoing in the back of his mind.

  “What was that all about?”

  Jake repeated what Henry had said about Jake and Marcy needing to find a use for themselves, how safe it was here, and the shadow that hunted in the South Boston streets.

  “No wonder you looked like you saw a ghost,” Marcy said, glancing over at Henry who was staring at the two of them unabashedly. “Think he’s crazy?”

  “We’re in the middle of a major disaster,” Jake said. “It’s hard to tell what people are thinking, or what they’ll do to survive. We don’t know what Henry has been through, or what he’s seen. I just know I can’t stay here. I need to get back to Sara and the kids.”

  “And I need to get back to Terry and my kids,” Marcy added. “So, what do we do?”

  “We play along with these guys until we see a safe opportunity to escape. And the sooner the better.”

  “Fake it until we make it?”

  “Exactly,” Jake said, then he gave Marcy’s hand a squeeze. “And believe me, we’ll make it.”

  “What about the people here?” Marcy looked around.

  “We’ll try to help them if the opportunity arises,” Jake’s eyes roamed around the small group of people before coming to rest on Marcy.

  “Let’s just hope the storms die down and rescue teams get here soon.”

  “That’s right.” Jake’s expression hardened. “But we’re not going to wait around for that. Are you ready to do what it takes to get out of here?”

  Marcy met his stare with unwavering calm before she nodded firmly.

  Chapter 20

  Sara, Gatlinburg, Tennessee | 7:33 p.m., Sunday

  Sara wiped the sweat off her brow and dropped the pile of wet sticks and branches in with the rest. Her arms and legs were sore, and her back was screaming for a break. They’d been clearing the yard of debris and pieces of their ruined tool shed for the past four hours, and they were only halfway done.

  “Here’s another,” Zoe said as she dropped some leaves and sticks in the pile they’d created on the far side of the yard.

  “Thanks, Zo.”

  Rex started yapping his head off, and Sara turned to see Todd throw a twelve-inch stick through the air, the shepherd leaping after it.

  “Sorry, Mom,” Todd said with a guilty smile when he saw she was watching. “Just having a little fun.”

  “You’re fine,” Sara said. “We could all use a little fun right about now, right, Zo?”

  “Right,” Zoe said with a tired sigh before she tromped off to look for more debris.

  “Okay, kids,” Sara called out in resignation. “It’s getting dark. Let’s get inside and call it a day.”

  “Yay!” Zoe declared, then she chased after Rex, who easily outdistanced her with the stick in his mouth.

  Todd trudged inside ahead of Sara, and she went up on the front porch and stopped to have a quick look around.

  Before the yard cleanup, Sara and Todd had put plastic up over the window in a double layer to keep out the rain, and tomorrow they were going to try to use a slab of wall from the ruined tool shed to cover the window with something more durable. Then they’d secured the broken water trough to ensure the continued rain was captured. Sara wasn’t worried, because the storm had already half-filled one of the huge barrels that had been empty before. That would add several weeks’ worth of water to their supply.

  They’d searched through the shed debris, picked up the tools that had scattered across the yard, and put them in the generator shed before piling good pieces of wood against the cabin. All in all, a good solid workload which seemed to release any pent-up energy they might have felt from being stuck inside most of the day. Sara stepped into the cabin entryway, happy to see the kids had taken off their muddy shoes and rain ponchos instead of dragging muck through the house.

  “What’s for dinner?” Todd opened the refrigerator and started rummaging through their perishable supplies.

  Sara stood in the hallway with her hands on her hips, thinking it over for a moment before she responded. “I know the smart thing to do would be to eat our perishable food first, but I think we need to test out some of our non-perishables.”

  “Uh-oh,” Todd said, looking up from his hunt.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Sara asked in an accusatory tone.

  “It means that you’ve got something special in mind for dinner,” Todd said. “Like rice and salmon patties or something.”

  Even Zoe looked around from where she’d been getting water from the sink, and her expression turned crestfallen, cheeks puffing out as she sighed.

  “I was actually thinking we should give some of the MREs a try.” Sara stroked her chin, doing everything she could to keep a straight face as her kids squirmed in front of her. “We need to make sure they’re still fresh so we can get a good idea of what’s good when we do inventory tomorrow.”

  “MREs and inventory.” Zoe frowned, sinking her cute, chubby cheeks. “Those aren’t fun.”

  “Hey, we’ve been having a lot of fun so far,” Sara said, sounding hopeful. “We’ve been watching shows and playing games in the cellar, right?”

  “Can I have the pepperoni pizza one?” Zoe asked in a resigned tone.

  “Sure, hon.” Sara smiled the perfect smile of a waitress taking their order. “What about you, Todd? What’ll it be?”

  “I’ll do the cheese tortellini, please,” he responded, not looking any more hopeful.

  “One pepperoni pizza and a cheese tortellini coming right up.” Sara flashed them a wide, professional smile, turned on her heel, and marched to the cellar door. She opened the door, went down the stairs, and moved to the last row of shelves where they kept a three-year supply of MREs on hand. Meals, Ready-to-Eat. She chose a highly coveted pepperoni pizza for Zoe, dated 2018, a 2014 tortellini for Todd, and then picked through the packages for one of her favorites, a 2017 chicken burrito bowl.

  She carried the packages up the stairs, handed them out unapologetically, and started some water heating.

  Both of the kids knew how to open their kits and heat them up, using only hot water and their FRH—flameless ration heater—bags. Zoe removed all of the items and set them on the table: pizza, cobbler, chocolate protein mix, oatmeal cookie, cheese sticks, and jalapeno cheese sauce. She put her pizza and cobbler pouches into her FRH bag along with some hot water. While she waited for those things to get warm, she poured cold water into the pouch of chocolate drink powder and shook it until it was mixed. Then she opened her oatmeal cookie, biting into it with a happy wiggle on her chair.

  “Good job,” Sara said, impressed that her daughter remembered the preparation steps.

  Sara opened her chicken b
urrito bowl kit and started heating it up in the same manner Zoe had. While she waited, Sara gathered Zoe’s packet of instant coffee and poured it along with hers into a coffee cup. She added hot water and then nibbled on her included cinnamon bun and sipped her coffee.

  “That’s one thing I love about MREs,” Todd said as he munched on a brownie. “Always dessert first.”

  “Glad you came around.” Sara smiled quaintly.

  After ten minutes of warming, they removed their main courses and dug in. Sara put her cheese and burrito mix atop her tortilla, rolled it up, and bit into it. It was a little bland but had hints of more complex, chili flavors. “This isn’t horrible,” she said after swallowing down the first bite. Then she looked at Zoe. “How’s your pizza?”

  The girl gave her mother a thumbs up as she chewed the soft, pepperoni-topped bread.

  “I’m not sure why I complained,” Todd said, holding up his fork. “This isn’t half bad.”

  “We’ll appreciate them if the going gets rough,” Sara said, “and there’s nothing left to eat.”

  “End of the world scenario,” Todd said before he shoved some sauce-covered, shell-shaped pasta in his mouth.

  “Let’s hope it never comes to that,” Sara said firmly with a glance down at Zoe. “We’ll mark these MREs as unspoiled when we do inventory tomorrow.”

  Cleanup was easy since there were no plates to wash or dry. All they had to do was put their mylar and plastic packaging into the recycle bins and wash their hands. As the kids finished cleaning up, Sara noticed Zoe’s eyelids drooping, and she was bumping into things as she moved around the kitchen.

  “You getting tired, Zo?” Sara asked.

  The girl nodded and looked around for Rex. “I’m going to bed, okay?”

  “Sure, honey,” Sara agreed as she leaned down and took up her daughter in a hug. Then she held the girl at arm’s length. “You had a super long day today, but you did so well.”