by Kyle Danvers
They crashed to the ground together, Ashley on top of him. Mark gasped, the wind knocked out of his chest, and Ashley didn’t hesitate.
She smashed the rock into the back of Mark’s skull, over and over again, unable to register the screams of his daughter over the crunch of bone against stone as she continued to hammer at him until he finally stopped moving.
With her heart hammering in her ears, and her breath coming in short bursts, Ashley let the stone fall to the ground beside her as she stared down at the mess she’d made.
Sasha was still screaming, still on the ground some ten feet away, and when Ashley looked her in the eye, all she could see was her reflection, covered in blood.
She’d killed a man. She’d murdered a father.
14
Silence closed in around Cass, stifling her.
She hated feeling hopeless, hated sitting in the dank cellar waiting for her fate to come to her. But what else could she do? She was unarmed thugs had descended on her house. The best thing Cass could do was stay put and not draw attention to herself, but it wasn’t easy.
If her father had taught her anything, it was that when it came to intruders, it was better to shoot first and ask questions later.
Cass had never thought she'd find herself in a position where she'd have to kill anyone, but that was before the entire world had gone to shit in a matter of hours.
She wished her father were there to tell her what to do. If he had been, Cass doubted she'd be locked down in the basement with her mother and brother praying no one found them. Joel would’ve shot his way out.
However Cass sliced it, she and her family were vulnerable. If an organized group, even just a few guys, decided to come into the house and take whatever they wanted—and found them in the process—neither Cass nor Nate would be able to stop them with the one gun they had.
Looters Cass could understand, but what was with the guys who’d rolled up in the Humvee with the devil painted on it? Had the gangs from South Central LA made their way into town, or was it just a stupid intimidation tactic?
Thinking about everything she'd seen made Cass restless. She had to do something, anything, and the first thing she could think of was to investigate. How could she be sure they were really in any danger? They’d seen a couple of looters get mowed down earlier that afternoon, but that didn’t mean the guys in the Humvee were still outside. Cass hadn’t heard anything from outside for quite a while.
There was only one way to find out, and there was only one person in the house willing to do it. If she stepped outside and found no one there, they could round up their things and leave. But they couldn’t do any of that without knowing.
Cass looked over at her mother, slumped against Nate’s shoulder. Nate held a gun in his hand, the same one she’d found in the hallway closet the day before. The safety wasn’t engaged, and it’d almost fallen out of his hand.
She couldn’t go out unarmed, so Cass carefully crept away from the basement wall and crawled over to Nate. She waited a few seconds to make sure he was still asleep, and when she was certain of it, she carefully pried the gun out of his hands. He stirred and groaned, and Cass froze, but he fell back asleep quickly.
Before Nate woke up and tried to stop her, she crawled across the basement floor toward the staircase with the gun in her hand. The last thing she needed now was to knock something over and wake them both up—and maybe attract attention from outside.
When her hands found the first step of the staircase, she let out a sigh. Was this crazy? What if something happened to her while she was out there? Neither Nate nor their mother would know where she was or what happened to her; they wouldn’t be able to save her.
Still, they couldn’t sit down the basement forever and wait for, well, who or whatever the hell they were waiting for to come to them. She had no choice; she had to take action.
Gripping the gun in both hands, she rose to her feet and climbed up the stairs, taking them one at a time and as slowly as possible to avoid making any noise. She’d just reached the top of the staircase when a noise from downstairs followed her up the stairs.
“What the hell are you doing?” Nate hissed, and Cass closed her eyes, letting out the breath she’d been holding. Cass was so close to the action she could smell it, but Nate had caught her after all.
“I’m going to find out what the hell’s going on out there,” Cass said.
“No, you’re not,” Nate said and came up the stairs to meet her. He glared into her eyes, but Cass refused to back down. Nate had never been intimidating, even when they were kids.
“Yes, I am. We can’t just sit here forever. Eventually, something’s gotta give. We’ve either gotta make a move, or somebody’s going to make a move on us. I’m not waiting around to find out which one it’s gonna be,” Cass said.
“Listen to yourself. For fuck’s sake, Cass, you’re sixteen. Even with a gun, what do you think you’re going to be able to do? You saw what happened out there earlier, do you want to get caught up in that?” Nate asked, keeping his voice low. His tone had taken on the same sort of condescension their mother used when Cass didn’t listen to her, that their mother got with her.
“I’m just gonna peek outside. That’s all. I want to see if anybody is still out there, or if the coast is clear,” Cass said.
“What are you gonna do if it is?” Nate asked.
“I dunno. Maybe we could steal a car or something, or at least make some distance on foot to get us out of here,” Cass said. Truthfully, she hadn’t thought it through, but anything was better than sitting in the basement waiting to die. Even with all the supplies in the house, they didn’t have enough to survive through whatever else might happen.
“Don’t do this,” Nate said. “Mom’s already on edge; I don’t think she has much left in her. If anything happens to you…” Nate said.
“Then stay here with her. If you want to be a pansy, that’s fine with me, but I’m not going to spend another minute in this fucking basement,” Cass said.
“Cass—” Nate started, but Cass slipped away from him, creeping through the house on her tiptoes with the gun in both hands as she approached the front window. There wasn’t any movement outside, and though Nate hissed after her, she didn’t stop.
From the window, she saw that things hadn’t changed much. In fact, aside from a few cars that their neighbors had left behind, it was empty and still, but that didn’t make her feel any better. Across the street, the front door to Austin’s house was still wide open, and the bodies of the two looters laid face down in the street where they’d been shot down.
What made them go to Austin’s house? Of all the homes on the block, Austin’s wasn’t the nicest, and if it’d been her, Cass wouldn’t have chosen it to break into first. But maybe they knew something she didn’t.
What if they were still there? What if the guys in the Humvee, which was missing, had set up camp in the house?
There was only one way to find out.
Cass disengaged the safety and cocked the gun, goosebumps rippling through her as the noise filled the living room. She took a series of deep breaths. What she was about to do was risky, borderline reckless, but if they were ever going to get out of the house and the neighborhood, they had to find out.
She unlocked the front door and stepped out onto the front porch. As quiet as the basement had been, it was almost as silent outside, save for the chirping of insects. It was hard to believe that just a few hours prior there’d been a shooting on the street and had it not been for the bodies lying in their dried blood, Cass wouldn’t have believed anything had happened at all.
But it had happened. All of it was real. This was Cass's new reality, her new world, and the only way to survive in it would be to adapt.
Crouching down, Cass darted down the front porch steps and ran to the single tree towering in their front yard. With her back against it for cover, she took a few moments to catch her breath and listen for any sounds that might sugges
t there were other people around. When she didn’t hear anything, she peeked around the corner of the tree, to Austin’s house, and found nothing.
A Prius sat in the street, between her house and Austin’s, and when she was ready, Cass ran and hid behind it. Once more, she took stock of the situation but found no one else around. She chuckled to herself, wondering if she was paranoid, but dismissed it almost as soon as the thought occurred to her.
There was no such thing as being paranoid, not anymore.
After a few moments, she ran around the back of the car and stopped at the front porch steps of Austin’s house, hiding behind the railing that led to the front door the same way the looters had earlier.
There was nothing to suggest she wasn’t alone, so when Cass had calmed herself enough, she crept up the porch steps one at a time, the gun pointed in front of her ready to fire, just the way her dad had shown her how to when she was younger.
She’d never shot anything other than a few beer cans here and there when she was learning how to hold the gun, how to aim and how to make sure she hit her target. Days ago, she wouldn’t have thought she was capable of shooting at anything living, but that was days ago before it’d become a necessity.
At the top of the stairs, she stepped around the open front door, applying as little pressure as possible on the hardwood floor. She froze, listened for any noise, and continued when she heard nothing. The house was a mess. Paintings that’d hung on the walls laid in shards across the floor, file cabinets were torn open, and the papers inside had been flung everywhere.
Whatever the looters had been after, it must’ve been important, must’ve meant something. Why else would they have torn the house apart? What were they looking for if they weren’t looking for necessary supplies—and why had they left with nothing but supplies?
Cass stepped into the living room and found an open door leading down to what appeared to be the basement and her scalp prickled. She had no intention of going downstairs because she had no idea who or what might be lurking down there.
Still, she carefully stepped over to the open door and peered down the stairs. There was no light, no sound, nothing.
A creaking sound startled her, and she whirled around, but she never saw who it was, instead only felt something hard and weighty smash against her side. She screamed and fell to the floor, the gun skittering across the hardwood behind her.
She couldn’t see for a moment, disoriented, but she didn’t need to see to know she was in danger. Seconds later, a man was on her, pinning her to the ground, scraping and pulling at her skin as he dodged her kicks and wild flailing to get his hands around her throat.
She screamed, desperate to get away, her fingers clawing across the hardwood in search of the gun—but she never found it.
A hand collided with her cheek, forcing the breath out of her lungs as she fell backward. Cass let out a howl before she gave one last desperate kick in the darkness and connected with the man’s groin, forcing a cry out of him. He rolled around on the floor, clutching himself and moaning.
Cass scurried away from him, still reaching behind her for the gun, never taking her eyes off the man. In the moonlight from the open front door, she saw a flash of the man who’d attacked her as he struggled back to his feet. Dirt and blood covered his face, and the ratty shirt he wore had the same horned devil icon she’d seen on the Humvee.
Whoever he was, he was one of them, and that meant he would kill her without thinking twice.
He looked crazy, his eyes wide, twinkling in the light from outside as he approached, his arms outstretched and reaching for her throat. Cass tried to stand, but he threw himself at her, knocking her back down. His arms wrapped around her neck, the thumbs applying pressure and cutting off the scream coming from Cass’ throat.
Cass clawed at his fingers, dug her nails deep into his skin, but he never let go. The corners of her vision turned dark, and she was sure that this was it, that this random squatter thug was going to kill her.
A sudden crack filled the air, and the man who’d been strangling her slumped to the side, his head colliding with the hardwood floor. Ashley skittered away from him, her throat on fire with air that poured into it, and looked over to find Nate standing with a baseball bat held high, ready to swing again.
She had no idea where he’d come from, or where he’d gotten the bat, but it didn’t matter. She was safe, for now, and she only had a few seconds to act. Cass reached for the gun just a few feet away and found her resolve when the metal brushed against her fingers.
She stood from the floor, aimed the barrel at the back of the man’s skull, ready to pull the trigger, when Nate put his hand on hers and pushed the gun away.
“We don’t have to,” Nate said.
“Yes, we do,” Cass said.
She put the sight back on target and pulled the trigger.
15
Blood stained Ashley’s hands.
After what she’d seen overseas in the service, after what she’d been through, Ashley swore she'd never end up in a situation like this. But there she was, a man lying dead beneath her, and the screams of his child still ringing in her ears.
She turned to Sasha, made to reach for her, but the girl stood and ran into the trees. Horrified, Ashley hurled the rock she still held in her hands into the brush and stood. She had to get away from the body and the evidence of what she’d done.
Joel stared at her, his eyes wide. Ashley didn’t blame him. She couldn’t believe it either. What triggered her? It was self-defense, or at least that’s what she told herself. Given a chance, Mark would’ve killed her, would’ve done the same thing.
That didn’t make her feel any better.
“Ashley,” Joel said, but the word barely registered in Ashley’s brain. Her head spun, and she felt like she might throw up from nausea roiling in her stomach. She’d killed someone. There was no going back from that, no redemption.
“Ashley!” Joel shouted, shaking her by the shoulders. She hadn’t realized he’d approached her, much less put his hands on her, but when she did and saw the panic in his face, something inside her snapped her back into place.
“We have to go. Now,” Joel said.
“What about the girl?” Ashley asked.
“There’s nothing we can do for her. We have to go. The noise from all this is sure to draw their people if there are others out here. Either way, we can’t afford to wait around to find out,” Joel said. He left her there while he scooped up his backpack, gesturing at Ashley’s duffel bag for her to do the same, but she couldn’t move.
The only thing she could see was Mark’s body, his fresh blood gleaming in the moonlight that pierced through the trees. There was nothing recognizable about him anymore; nothing left after the damage she’d done.
“Ashley, come on, move!” Joel shouted. As if she were watching the scene from outside herself, Ashley grabbed her duffel bag, in a daze, and followed Joel as he set off into the woods. She shouldn’t have let him lead the way, but she was so mixed up she couldn’t direct them.
They ran for what felt like forever, the branches pulling at her hair, snagging on her clothes, the roots along the ground threatening to trip her and snap her ankles.
But they kept running. Ashley didn’t have a clue where they were going, but the destination didn’t matter. The further she got away from Mark’s lifeless body, the better. If she ran far enough, she might forget it ever happened.
Or maybe it would follow her for the rest of her life.
They burst out of the trees to find water, a massive body of it, sparkling in the moonlight. Ashley bent over, rested her hands on her knees, and threw up. More than ever, she was grateful that she hadn’t taken Joel’s offer up to eat something before their confrontation with Mark.
“Where are we?” Joel asked.
“No idea,” Ashley said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She’d lost all sense of direction.
“But that’s the ocean, right?” Joel ask
ed.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Ashley said, her vision still swimming, her stomach still doing flips. She felt like she might be sick again, but Joel didn’t sit still. He ran toward the water’s edge and shouted for her to follow. Though she could barely move, Ashley did what she could to follow him, stumbling along behind him, and Ashley let out a gasp.
A few hundred yards away, there was a marina, full of boats parked in neat lines at the docks. Joel looked at her, excitement gleaming in his eyes, but all Ashley wanted to do was wade out into the water and never come back. After what she’d done, what was the point of continuing? If things were already this bad, if she’d already had to take someone else’s life, then what hope was there?
“We have to take one of them,” Joel said, looking left and right, back toward the woods. Even if they had, Ashley doubted any of their pursuers would’ve been able to keep pace with them, much less been able to find exactly where they were.
“Why? They won’t work,” Ashley argued.
“How do you know that? If your car started, there’s still a chance that one of the boats might work too,” Joel said. “We have to try.”
“Don’t you think somebody else has already thought of this? What if it’s a trap?” Ashley asked. She was messed up, but she still had some of her wits about her. Charging into a marina full of boats, all of which were sitting ducks seemingly ready for the taking, seemed like the perfect kind of trap, designed to lure people in and then smash them when they least expected it.
They would be like fish in a barrel.