by Chris Pike
“Go for it,” Joe said.
“We can throw a parking block through the window. A loose one is over there.” Ethan pointed to a nearby piece concrete block installed at the head of a parking spot, used to prevent cars from rolling forward.
“Excellent idea. The bolt used to secure it to the pavement has been broken. Thank God for bad drivers.” Joe glanced at Hannah.
“Huh? What? I’m not a bad driver. I’ve never had an accident.”
Joe and Ethan stifled their chuckles.
“Take one end of the block, and I’ll take the other,” Ethan said.
“Can I help?” Tyler asked.
“Joe and I can handle it. You can keep an eye out for us.”
“Will do.”
Joe and Ethan hoisted the heavy parking block weighing upwards of two hundred and fifty pounds, then lugged it near the plate glass windows.
“Let’s rest a moment,” Ethan said, breathing hard, setting his end of the parking block on the ground. “Carrying a sumo wrestler would be easier.”
Once Ethan and Joe caught their breath and recovered from carrying the heavy block, Joe said, “You ready?”
“Yeah,” Ethan replied.
The men picked up the block and hobbled close to one of the plate-glass windows, stopping a safe distance away. Ethan motioned for Joe to back up a foot or two so they’d be positioned at the weakest part of the window.
“That should do it,” Ethan said. “You ready?”
“Yup.”
“I sure hope this is tempered glass, otherwise we’ll be lucky not to get cut.”
Joe nodded. “Me too.”
“On three.”
Ethan counted one, and both men slung the block towards the window then away from it. On two, they gathered increasing momentum, then on three they heaved it toward the window. Both men stepped back and shielded their eyes as the concrete block broke through the glass. It landed with a loud thud on the tile floor inside the convention center, followed by the shattering of glass shards.
Ethan and Joe used their boots to scrape away as much glass as possible then carefully navigated around the remaining glass. They stepped through the opening. Tyler and Kinsey helped their mom by looping hands under her arms, steadying her. Lexi and Hannah followed.
“It stinks in here,” Lexi said.
“I second that.” Becca put her hand to her nose, and scrunched her face.
Oscar’s nose twitched at the odors in the cavernous hallway, reeking of unflushed toilets and lingering signs of human habitation. The pungent odor confused him, and while he had smelled these odors before, the reactions of the group confused him. From their voices and posture, the place repulsed them. Oscar filed their reactions in his mind to be retrieved at a later date.
“A cesspool would smell better than this.” Hannah untied the bandana from her neck to place it over her nose. She tied it off around the back of her head.
“You look like an outlaw,” Joe teased her.
“Outlaw Hannah Hammer.” She waited for a rection to what she thought was a clever play on words.
The joke fell flat.
“Get it?” Hannah asked, annoyed that what she thought was clever humor wasn’t appreciated.
“No.”
“Outlaw Hannah Hammer.” She paused for a reaction. “Anyone?”
Joe shrugged. “Don’t believe so.”
“Ever hear of Outlaw Josey Wales?”
“You need to practice your delivery.” Under his breath, Joe muttered, “She’s no Clint Eastwood.”
“I heard that.” Hannah smirked. “Maybe I’m no comedian, but my hearing is perfect.”
“Then hear this,” Joe said. “Use your superpowers of hearing to flush out anyone hiding around here.”
“I can do that.” Hannah said confidently. She threw back her shoulders, proud she’d be of help to the group.
Joe addressed Tyler. “Time to find us some transportation.”
“This way,” Tyler said, pointing to the doors on the other side of the turnstiles. “The showroom will be just beyond the doors.”
Becca hobbled through the turnstile, thrilled she’d be able to sit in a car, albeit an antique one. The thought of being home in an hour gave her a renewed sense of purpose.
“You okay, Mom?” Kinsey asked.
“I’m fine. Really.”
Tyler waited for everyone to push through the turnstiles. Once they were together, he faced the group. “Is everyone ready?”
“Yes!” Kinsey grumbled. “Open the doors.” She huffed, shaking her head. “Brothers.”
Tyler pushed down on the lever to open the door; Joe did the same to the adjacent door and stepped into the cavernous showroom. The doors clicked shut behind them, blocking out all light. It was too dark to make sense of the room. The massive showroom covered 800,000 square feet equal to about half the size of the Pentagon, and enough room to park the latest models from more than thirty of the world’s top automakers. The annual auto show attracted thousands of people, and it was held the weekend prior to the Super Bowl. Once the four-day show ended, the cars were quickly transported to their respective showrooms, resulting in enough time to set up for the antique car show.
“I can’t see anything,” Tyler said. “Open one of the doors to let some light in.”
Standing next to one of the doors, Joe opened it.
“What the—?” Dumbfounded, Tyler pivoted to face his mother, whose expression was one of disbelief and disappointment.
“It’s empty,” Becca said. “Where are all the cars?” Her voice was close to cracking.
“I don’t know, Mom. They’re supposed to be here. They always set up early before the Super Bowl.” Tyler hung his head, his shoulders slumped in defeat.
“What do we do now?” Becca asked. Her question was met with blank stares.
“Let’s not panic,” Joe interjected. “There must be a back room or staging area to get the cars ready. We’ll need to search the building. Tyler, you come with me. Ethan, you stay here with the ladies. Shoot anyone who threatens you.”
“Will do,” Ethan said.
“Oscar, stay. Stay,” Joe said.
The big dog did as instructed. When the group entered the building, Oscar lifted his snout, taking in the odors of the room. He blocked out the previous odors to concentrate on the unique human scents of his group. He recognized the four women right away, the three men too, but one scent was new. His nose twitched, trying to identify the person belonging to the new scent. While the group discussed matters, Oscar padded in the direction of the new smell.
“Tyler, you’ve been here before, right?”
“Many times.”
“What’s your best guess about where we might find one of the cars?” Joe asked.
Tyler thought a moment before answering. He quickly recalled his previous trips to the vintage auto show with his dad. The memory he focused on happened when he was a kid. He vaguely remembered accompanying his dad and one of the car owners to a room holding a special car, available to those who had a pass. Tyler had been told under no circumstances was he to touch or climb in the car. His dad rarely spoke to him in the tone used. It stuck in his mind because he didn’t want to upset his dad, knowing if he messed up, his dad would be angry at him, so he did exactly as his dad instructed.
“There’s a large holding area over there,” Tyler said. He pointed to the opposite side of the convention center. “If my memory is correct, the cars are driven into a staging area where the tires are wiped clean before being driven into the showroom. Come on. Let’s go.”
Joe and Tyler jogged to the opposite side. The doors were hidden behind a large curtain, and fortunately unlocked.
Joe swung open the doors to find—
Oscar barked loud and throaty, snapped his teeth and—
A visceral scream, loud and shrill, echoed in the empty cavernous building. It had emanated from where Ethan and the group had been.
A shot rang out.
Ano
ther one, then two more.
Running footsteps thudded on the floor.
Oscar charged after the footsteps, sliding to a stop as the door clanged shut, throwing the area into darkness.
“Ethan!” Joe yelled. “What happened? Is anyone hurt?”
“We’re over here!” Ethan yelled back. “Hurry!”
Joe and Tyler bolted to where the group was. A sliver of light peeked through the door near the terrified group, showing the way for Joe and Tyler.
With their eyes acclimated to the low light, Tyler noticed a female sprawled out on the floor. Thinking the worst, he screamed, “Mom! Are you okay? Mom!”
“I’m fine,” Becca said. “Someone needs to get some light in here. Open the door.”
Tyler ran up to his mom and hugged her. “Thank God you’re okay. For a moment I thought it was you on the floor.” He stood back from his mom. “Where’s Kinsey?”
“Sitting against the wall,” Becca said.
“Kins? Are you alright?” Tyler stepped over to his sister.
She sat with her back to the wall, her knees pulled up to her chest. She had her arms wrapped around her knees with her face buried between them. Oscar sat next to her, his eyes alert. He panted heavily.
“Kins? What’s wrong?”
Kinsey didn’t answer.
“Kins?”
Kinsey raised her head, made eye contact with Tyler then flicked her eyes to Hannah.
“I don’t understand,” Tyler said.
“I can’t talk,” Kinsey replied.
Sensing Kinsey was in distress, Oscar nudged her hand until she acquiesced to his prodding. She gently massaged his ears and stroked him on his side, and sliding her fingers through his coat. The action calmed her, and for that, Oscar calmed himself too.
Joe knelt next to Hannah. Lexi was sitting on the other side, holding a woolen scarf to Hannah’s chest. Blood stained Hannah’s shirt and the scarf. Lexi lifted her eyes to Joe and shook her head to communicate the situation was grave.
Hannah struggled to breathe, her breaths labored and raspy. Blood stained her shirt. Her delicate face was pale.
“Oh, Hannah,” Joe said. His voice was soft and caring. “What happened?”
“I’m sorry,” she squeaked. She took a labored breath.
Joe reached to her diminutive hand and took it in hers. “Are you in pain?”
“Not much.”
“Hang in there, okay?”
Hannah nodded once.
Becca and Kinsey were hugging and comforting each other. Ethan stood guard at the door. Lexi’s face belied the intense physical pain from the tooth extraction and the emotional pain she felt witnessing Hannah being shot.
“Hannah, I’ve been meaning to tell you thank you for saving my life at the zoo,” Joe said. “I mean it.” He blinked his emotions away, and swallowed a quickly forming lump in his throat. “You did good,” he croaked.
“I’m tired,” Hannah whispered. She closed her eyes. “I’m not going to make it, am I?” She opened her eyes and met Joe’s gaze, holding it long enough for her to understand. “You don’t have to answer.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Will you do something for me?” Hannah asked. “Leave me to here to die in peace. You and everyone else have a chance to live, so I want you to do that for me. If you stay here, you might get hurt too.”
“We can’t leave you.” Joe’s voice was near the cracking point. “Does anyone know first aid?”
“I know some,” Ethan said, approaching Hannah. “Can I lift your shirt up?”
“Yes,” Hannah whispered.
Ethan studied the wound. Blood oozed out each time Hannah’s heart beat. He folded a scarf and held it to the wound. He gently slid his hand under her back, searching for blood indicating the bullet had passed through her. Finding none, he observed how slow her heart was beating. Ethan realized it wasn’t a good sign. Her blood pressure was falling, and she appeared to be going into shock. If they moved her without a proper stretcher, the bullet might move, causing more injury.
Ethan stood and looked at Joe. In a low whisper, he said, “There’s nothing we can do.”
“I heard that,” Hannah said.
“I’m sorry.” Ethan’s eyes met Hannah’s.
“Don’t be. I’ve lived my life the way I wanted to. I hope I made a difference.”
“You have,” Joe croaked.
“The last thing I want you to do is to save yourselves. And to remember me.”
“We will,” Joe said. “We will always remember you.”
“Then leave me be to so I can die in peace.”
“We can’t let you pass away all alone.” Joe’s voice was a whisper.
“I’m not alone. I have my memories of my life. And I’m not in any pain. Please,” Hannah begged. “You must. My life is over.” Hannah coughed weakly. “Please, I need a coat. I’m cold.”
“Is there someone I can contact to let them know?” Joe asked.
“I can’t hold my eyes open any longer. I feel so weak.” Hannah eyes fluttered shut.
“It’s okay. We’re all here for you.”
“Hannah?” Joe gently shook her shoulder.
Without opening her eyes, Hannah said, “I’m not dead yet. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
Joe snorted a chuckle.
“I finally made you laugh.” Hannah opened her eyes a slit.
“You did,” Joe smiled thinly. “Is there someone I can contact? A relative? Anyone?”
Hannah sucked in a long breath, holding it for what seemed like an eternity, then exhaled. In a barely audible voice, she said, “My uncle Ham lives not too far from…from where…”
“Ham? As in Hammer?” Joe asked. “Where does he live?”
Hannah closed her eyes and exhaled slowly.
“Hannah?” Joe asked tentatively.
For a few minutes, Joe observed Hannah for signs of life. Her breathing was slow, and with each passing minute, the pause between breaths became longer. She no longer responded to Joe’s hand. Her grip weakened until it went limp. Joe sniffled and swiped under his eyes. He stood and removed his coat. He leaned over Hannah, and covered her with his coat, leaving her face visible, unable to cover her face as long as she was breathing. It felt wrong in many ways to leave her. She had saved his life from the jaws of a lion. She had saved Lexi from a horrible toothache and the resulting possible life-threatening infection.
Lexi placed her hand on Joe’s shoulder. “We should go. She’ll be with our Heavenly Father soon.”
Joe sniffled again and swallowed hard.
Chapter 28
Joe stood and faced the solemn group. “She’ll be dead soon.”
Eyes and noses were red from tears being shed over the unexpected violence perpetuated on one of their group. Becca hugged her children. Lexi stayed to herself. Ethan stood by the door, guarding it.
The enormity of their survival prospects swept over the group like a tsunami gathering power, sucking out the water from a beach, exposing the vulnerabilities of small sea creatures relying on the water’s protection. Without electricity, modern society had its vulnerabilities exposed, and like a tsunami, the fallout was quick and brutal.
Their former jubilation at the prospect of returning home morphed into defeat. Hannah’s injury brought their vulnerability and helplessness to the forefront of their minds. Food would no longer be available, medical care at hospitals would be non-existent, reliable transportation unavailable, and civilization and its politeness of rules and laws no longer a stabilizing force for humanity. The bible teachings of the meek shall inherit the Earth was a thing of the past. The strong would survive in a society without rules to protect its citizens and government. New rules would be made, and Joe planned on being part of the new world.
Joe faced Ethan. “What happened?”
“Some guy literally appeared out of the shadows and started shooting at us,” Ethan explained. “I was guarding the door. Since we had
to break in here, I assumed it was empty. I didn’t think it was necessary to clear the interior.” Ethan swore at himself. “I should have paid attention to your dog. I saw Oscar go in the direction where the man was hiding, but I didn’t think anything of it. I’m sorry.”
“That’s on all of us,” Joe said. “Including me. Everyone is responsible for our safety. We must be vigilant, and we can’t let our guard down. Ever. And Hannah will be dead soon because of it.” Joe’s choice of words was calculated. He could have glossed over her impending death by using gentler verbiage, instead, he needed to hit home about the seriousness of their survival. Unless everyone gave their one hundred percent, another ambush was possible. And that meant someone could die.
Joe had also developed a tender spot in his heart for Hannah and needed to make her death mean something. While he didn’t agree with her decision to release the zoo animals, he did admire her dedication to her beliefs. He also secretly enjoyed their banter and teasing each other.
“Where is Oscar?” Joe asked.
“He’s with me.” Kinsey lifted her head to meet Joe’s eyes. “He’s trying to make me feel better.”
“Oscar, come,” Joe said.
Oscar padded to Joe, sat and waited for instruction.
Joe guided Oscar to Hannah. “Down,” he said as Oscar lowered himself next to Hannah. “He’ll help keep you warm.” Joe waited for a response that Hannah had heard him, but there was none.
“Joe, there’s something else,” Kinsey said, sniffling.
“I’m listening.”
“Hannah saved my life.”
“How?” Joe asked.
“She stepped in front of me when the gunman approached. None of us saw him. It was like Ethan said – he appeared out of nowhere and started shooting at us for no reason. I couldn’t move. It was like I was frozen. Hannah was braver than me, and she’s about to lose her life because of me.” Kinsey lowered her head and sobbed. Becca wrapped her arms around her daughter, comforting her.
“Kinsey, listen to me,” Joe said. “I’ve seen soldiers much older than you freeze during battle, and they were trained. You weren’t, so please don’t blame yourself. We should all be grateful for Hannah’s sacrifice.” He had seen death many times during his stint in the military, including friends he had made while on tour. It never got any easier.