The Quiet

Home > Other > The Quiet > Page 18
The Quiet Page 18

by Vince Byrd


  Ethan and Gavin nodded to each other. “Matt’s going to be disappointed about that,” Gavin said. A short, thin woman tried to slip past him, but he held up his hand, stopping her, “Hold it, lady, not until someone comes out.”

  “Who’s Matt?” Ethan asked.

  Paige ignored his question, “What’s the deal here, Gavin? Will we be able to get in and buy anything?”

  “Honestly, there’s not much left, and the wait is at least an hour to get in. There was a run on all the stores Monday and Tuesday. Most everyone else in town has closed their business and gone home to wait for the power to come back on.

  “That’s going to be awhile,” Ethan commented.

  “That’s what I’m hearing,” Gavin replied. The line pushed against him, and he bumped against the door jamb. He tried to catch himself stepping back, but his foot got caught on the floor mat, and he fell to the floor. The woman at the front of the line took her chance and pushed Paige back into Ethan. She stepped over Gavin and into the store. The others in line rushed in as well like it was a Black Friday sale. Gavin formed himself into the fetal position so he didn’t get trampled.

  After the last person entered, Paige and Ethan stepped in to help Gavin up, “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “I got kicked a few times, and someone stepped on my fingers, but I’m alright. Thanks.” Gavin stood up and brushed himself off.

  Ethan looked around, “You weren’t kidding; this place has been raided.” He spotted a bag of Doritos that had been kicked under an empty display table. He rushed over, grabbed them up, and held them out like he’d won the gold cup. A tall middle-aged man snatched them out of his hand and ran out the door. “Hey! Those are mine!”

  “Stop, you have to pay for those!” Gavin called, trying to grab the man. The man turned around like he was a running back avoiding a tackle and gave Gavin the slip. His coat pockets were full of stolen merchandise.

  The manager appeared and told the cashier to grab the drawer and get into the office. He yelled for Gavin,” Everyone is stealing and running out the back!”

  “I gotta go. I’ll tell Matt you’re back,” Gavin said, running with the manager to the back.

  “You should have seen your face when that guy grabbed your Doritos and ran out. It was priceless,” she laughed. “I wish I could have snapped your picture.”

  “I really wanted them too. So, who’s this Matt?”

  “My ex-boyfriend,” she said under her breath, walking further into the store to find something edible.

  “You haven’t told me about him.”

  “We broke up about a month before I left for college. He thought we’d get back together, but he was wrong. We’re done. He still thinks he has a shot.”

  “Does he?”

  “No, I just said he doesn’t.”

  Ethan picked up a can that sat all alone on an empty shelf. “Hey, check it out, a can of hominy, yum. I guess we better go back to your house and thaw something out.”

  “I guess so. This place has been picked clean.”

  “I’m buying the hominy.”

  “I’m not cooking that for you. What do you even do with hominy?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’m still buying it,” he concluded.

  After they paid three times the price for the hominy, they walked out of the store and saw their Duster driving out of the parking lot. “Someone just stole our car!” Paige yelled.

  Ethan took off running, and the car passed by him on the main road. He started to throw his can at them but changed his mind. The Duster drove out of sight. He looked down at his can of hominy, “Why did I buy you? You better taste good.”

  Paige went back in and reported her stolen car to Gavin. When she came back out, Ethan was sitting in the parking lot leaning back on his hands with his face toward the sun. She walked up and asked, “What are you doing?”

  “Did you mean it?”

  “Mean what?” she asked.

  “That it was our car.”

  “Yes, it is our car,” she leaned down and kissed him. “But now, I guess it’s someone else’s car.”

  “And, I don’t have to worry about this Matt guy?”

  “No, our families have been friends for years, but you don’t have to worry. You’re my guy.” She held her hand out to him, “Come on, we have some Christmas decorations to get to.”

  “Can we eat first? That was the meaning of this little excursion.”

  “So, what you’re saying is, that it is your fault we have to walk home now?”

  “I don’t think you heard me right. I mean, I will be glad to help you with all the decorations as soon as we get back.”

  She smiled, “I’m hungry. Do you want to get something to eat when we get back?”

  “Oh, I thought you’d never ask,” he put his arm around her as they walked back to her house.

  Thirty-seven

  Jesse Day 8

  “G, it’s me, Larry. Look at me. Do you know me?” Larry pleaded with a hunger in his heart. A wave of ferocious fear swept over him as his thoughts invaded his mind. I finally found a woman who gets me, someone to share my deepest thoughts and weakest moments with, and someone who won’t judge me or condemn me for just being human. Someone who sees me for who I can become and not the miserable man that I’ve been for so long, he thought. Come on, after all this, she’s going to forget me. “G?”

  “Larry…I know you. I couldn’t make out your face for a moment. You’re a little blurry, and my head really hurts,” she whispered, blinking her eyes several times.

  Larry let out a long breath, “I thought I lost you for a second.” He leaned in and kissed her on the lips.

  She kissed him back, “I think I’m okay, just have a headache.” She tried to raise up, “Whoa, the world is spinning.”

  “Lay back down and rest a little while longer,” Jesse put his hand under her head. “You may have a concussion so take it easy. “I’m going to wake everyone and rustle up some breakfast. You need to eat and drink something.”

  “Thanks, Doc,” Larry smiled.

  “I’m sorry this happened,” Jesse put his hand on Larry’s shoulder and then looked down at Ginger.

  “It’s not your fault, Jesse. Don’t beat yourself up over it. You were trying to save us. I can’t fault you for that,” she touched his arm. “Seriously, it’s okay.”

  “Thank you for saying that.” Emotion swept over him, and he stood up.

  Ginger sensed his sincere care for her, and she believed he would give his life for her if it came to that. “Can I have a pop tart?” she asked to ease his emotion.

  Jesse laughed, “I’ll get you one.”

  After getting a pop-tart and some water for Ginger, he woke Kat. She sat up and saw Ginger and Larry eating, and talking. “She’s okay?”

  “I think so,” Jesse nodded.

  “And you?”

  “I’m as fine as I can be, considering…” he looked over in Theron’s direction.

  Kat stood up and hugged him, “I’m glad you were here. I’m glad you are here.” She whispered, squeezing him tighter.

  Ava opened the car door and bumped them, breaking up their hug. “Sorry y’all, I gotta go.” She rushed out and disappeared behind a car.

  The commotion woke Henry. He got out and started to stretch. He saw Ginger sitting up. “Praise God!” he pointed.

  Jesse and Kat looked over at Ginger, sitting up and eating. Larry gave a thumb’s up to them.

  After about an hour, Ginger felt good enough to continue their trek home. The bright morning sun had burned off much of the fog by then, and the sky was clear. Only small gray patches were left in the lower areas. Jesse and Kat made Ginger a pallet out of blankets in the bed of the truck in case she wanted to lie down. She had declined his advice of going to a hospital. “You let me know if yo
u get dizzy or feel sick or faint. We can pull over or whatever you need. We can still find the nearest hospital and see if they’re open. I know there must be some patients that still need immediate attention and doctors attending to them.”

  “No, I don’t feel like I need a hospital. I’m good to go.” She put her head through the shoulder strap of her shotgun and let it rest against her back. She held out her hand for Larry to help her into the bed of the truck.

  “Alright, let’s roll,” Jesse announced.

  They continued on interstate 85 well into the state of Georgia, maneuvering around vehicles and debris strewn in the road. The closer they came into any city limits, the more debris there was from busted windows and ransacked cars. Jesse suddenly stopped the truck. “I don’t think there’s a way through there.”

  “Tornados must have ripped through here causing all this. I’ve never seen anything like it before.” Henry looked all around. Cars were piled on top of one another, upside down and right side up, and every which way. Whole trees were uprooted and discarded around like toothpicks. Pieces of roofs and large chunks of walls from houses and buildings lay scattered about the area. Wet, soggy papers were everywhere. Whole and broken furniture littered the piles. Twisted metal pieces and splintered wood weaved itself in and out of the colossal clutter. It looked as though the tornado had swallowed up an entire town and dumped it all out right there across the interstate. The destruction was massive, and their route was definitely blocked.

  They sat there and studied the carnage for a few minutes, and then Jesse turned the truck around. They crossed over the median into the north bound lanes, traveled up to the next exit, and got off there. Jesse pulled over to get his bearings on the map and to see which roads to take. “This road here,” he pointed to it as he laid the map against the dash, “runs up by the interstate about where the tornado hit back there. It looks like the best route, unless we go way out of the way. Do you think we should chance it?”

  “We can always turn around, I guess. Right?” Kat turned to Henry, “What do you think?”

  “We can always turn around,” he held out his hands palm up, agreeing with her.

  They traveled south parallel to the interstate and came to where the tornado had crossed. There were missing slabs of asphalt where the tornado had sucked up parts of the road. Jesse eased the truck off the pavement and onto the deep muddy ruts to get through the damaged section. The back right tire began to spin, and it dug a trench into the mud, burying itself up to the axle. “Well that’s it, we’re stuck,” he slapped the steering wheel. “So much for turning around now. You two stay in the truck, no use in all of us getting muddy.” He got out and looked at the wheel.

  “You need some help, Doc?” Larry asked, leaning over the side of the bed to look at the tire.

  “Not yet. I’m going to dig the back wheels out. You stay there. If I need you, I’ll let you know.”

  “Just let me know.”

  Jesse took a broken limb and dug in front of the rear tires. He strategically placed rocks and pieces of broken asphalt where he had dug out for traction. “Kat, give it a try. Larry, bounce up and down in the bed, and I’ll push.”

  Kat cranked the truck and gave it some gas. The tires connected to the path that Jesse had laid out for them, and he gave the truck a hard push. When it took off, he slipped and fell to his knees as the truck’s tire peppered him in the face with mud. “I need another vacation,” he whispered to himself, “and a shower.” The pickup pulled out of the mud and back onto stable road.

  Kat stopped the truck and hopped out, leaving it running with the door open. She bent over laughing at Jesse covered in mud. Ava, Larry, and Ginger joined her in the comical sight. Jesse bent over to wipe his face on his shirttail.

  “Get out!”

  He looked up, and a man had a pistol pointed at Kat’s head. The man had his arm around her neck and was standing next to the truck.

  “Where’d he come from?” Jesse asked himself.

  Henry obeyed the man’s command. He opened his door and slid out, closing the door behind him. Ginger reached for her shotgun. “Don’t! I’ll kill her!” the man tightened his grip around her neck.

  “Okay, don’t hurt her,” Ginger pleaded.

  “Slowly lay the gun down.” Ginger slipped her head out of the strap and set the shotgun down on her pallet. “Now, all of you get out.”

  Larry eyed his AK-47 sandwiched between the boxes, but he knew he was not skilled enough to get it without someone getting shot. He didn’t want to chance it. He glanced at Jesse to see if he was going to make a move. He climbed out of the truck bed and then helped Ginger out.

  “Let her go!” Jesse demanded with his muddy hands raised.

  “I just want the truck,” the man claimed. He reached and grabbed Kat’s pistol from its holster and tossed it aside.

  “We can give you a ride,” Jesse offered.

  “No, I’ve been there and done that. You, girl,” he nodded to Ava just before she climbed out. “I’ll let you grab one thing out of the back, but don’t you dare try anything. Don’t touch the gun. I’ll put a bullet in her skull, I promise you.”

  “Yes sir,” Ava acknowledged. She reached down and picked up a twelve pack of water and passed it to Larry.

  “Now, get out,” the man commanded.

  “Please, buddy, let’s talk about this,” Jesse begged.

  “I’m done talking. People are all the same, greedy and selfish. Nobody cares about anyone anymore. It’s survival of the fittest. Get in.” He jerked Kat around and pushed her into the doorway.

  “No!” Jesse pulled his pistol and pointed it at him.

  “I’ll plaster her brains all in this truck…buddy,” the man put his pistol to her head again.

  “Okay, okay, don’t hurt her, please,” Jesse slowly laid his gun aside on a piece of asphalt.

  Kat got into the truck followed by the man. She scooted all the way over to the passenger’s door. He shut the door, dropped it into gear, and they drove off.

  “Kat!” Jesse shouted.

  Thirty-eight

  Paige Day 7

  The night was quiet, but the house creaked and popped as the wood contracted in the dry air. Paige had turned the thermostat down to sixty degrees to conserve more gas. She lay in her bed in sweats, a hoodie, and two pairs of socks, thinking about Christmas. Her family would always put up the tree and decorate the house together a week before, even after her mom passed. Her dad wanted to keep the family traditions going, and she believed her mom would too. She wasn’t sure if her dad was going to make it by Christmas. She and Ethan decided to go ahead and decorate the house to follow the tradition in remembrance of her family. Ethan even strung some colored lights on the front porch railing. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and she made plans in her head about what she was going to cook for dinner. She hoped it was not only going to be for the two of them. Contemplating, she drifted off to sleep.

  She woke up a few hours later from the sound of glass breaking downstairs. She sat up in her bed, focusing her hearing. She processed each sound in her mind, the wind, the furnace, the walls popping. Then, she heard the glass cracking on the floor, as if someone were stepping on it. She threw back the covers and opened her nightstand drawer, only to have realization dawn on her. “Oh no, my pistol was in the Duster,” she whispered to herself. She picked up her mermaid flashlight her dad had bought for her when she was a little girl. He told her she could use it whenever she went to the bathroom at night or when she got scared. She stuck it under the covers and pushed the switch on, nothing. She tapped on it, and it lit up the bed. “Wow, it still works.”

  They had left the doors open to all the rooms in the house so the heat would circulate better during the night. She tiptoed to the doorway and peeked down the hall to the stairs. She didn’t see anyone, but it was really dark. She didn’t want to shine
her light since it might tip off the intruders. She tiptoed into the hall and into Jacob’s room where Ethan had taken over as his own. She stepped up beside him and put one knee on the bed. He was lying on his back, and the covers were at his waist. He also had on a hoodie with the hood cinched up around his face. She shook him gently, afraid of alerting the intruders. He didn’t respond. She shook him harder, “Ethan!” she whispered harshly.

  He grumbled something out loud. She slapped her hand over his mouth, and he was startled awake. “Oh, come on in,” he mumbled under her hand as he relaxed and shifted his body over.

  “No! There’s someone in the house. I heard glass breaking downstairs,” she whispered.

  “Get your gun.”

  “I can’t; it’s in the Duster.”

  “You have more guns, right?”

  “They’re locked up in the safe downstairs. Dad might have one in his nightstand. Come with me to check.”

  They took each step cautiously, understanding the sound of a squeaky floorboard or a heavy footstep could alert the intruder. As they approached the stairs, they glanced down but didn’t see anyone or any dark shapes, so they proceeded into her dad’s room. Ethan pushed the door but did not close it, fearing it might make too much noise. Paige opened the top drawer to her dad’s nightstand, but there was no gun. She checked the bottom but still nothing. She shone her light around the room and found a baseball bat leaning in the corner behind Ethan. “There, get the bat,” she whispered.

  He picked up the bat and held it like he was preparing to swing at a ball, then gently swung it in the air, “What if they…” He accidently bumped a figurine of a fly fisherman off of her dad’s dresser with the end of the bat. He stepped over and caught it with one hand just before it hit the floor. He had a surprised look on his face that he had actually caught it. He looked at Paige with glee.

  She shined the light in his eyes, “Be careful.”

  “What if they have a gun?” he set the figurine back in its place.

  “We’ll have to get the jump on them.” She looked around the room again for something to use as a weapon. She opened the top dresser drawer, and in the bottom were several old lock-blade pocket knives. She grabbed three and handed one to Ethan. She slipped one into her sweatpants pocket and opened the other. Ethan shoved his into his hoodie pocket. “Let’s go check it out,” she pointed to the door. “Wait, do you smell fish?”

 

‹ Prev