by Cass Kim
“Wait!” Jeffer’s voice rang out from the darkness behind them. “Listen.” Everybody froze. Straining to hear past the thudding of her heart, Holly held her breath. The faint sounds of shouting and laughter came from somewhere outside. Nobody was supposed to be on the street. Her heart rate sped up as adrenaline flooded her veins.
“How did you hear that?” June hissed at the old man.
“Hearing aids.” His shadowy hand tapping the side of his head, “the darn things pick up too much sometimes. But that can come in handy.”
Miranda backed away from the stack of chairs, her steps soft. The group loosely clustered around the prep table, the only sounds the soft huff of panting breaths. They listened intently, the sounds of breaking glass and loud thuds coming closer with the laughter and shouting. It sounded like at least four or five guys.
“Maybe, uh, maybe we should call 911,” Luke whispered hoarsely.
“I’ll do it.” June’s phone lit up her face, pinched and focused as she tapped the numbers. She held it up to her ear. After a moment she dropped the phone back down, stabbing the red button to end the call. “Shittin’ kittens. The phone can’t complete the call. I don’t have service bars anymore.”
All the phones lit up as each person checked their own phone for service bars.
“What does that mean?” Miranda shook her phone a few times as if that would increase the connectivity.
“It means that the cell phone towers must be down. Shit.” Adam was immediately shushed by June for speaking above a whisper.
“Maybe they won’t come in here. Maybe they’re just breaking things and being stupid,” Holly whispered hopefully. Fat chance. Nothing had gone right today.
“I don’t think we’ll be that lucky.” Adam’s voice was a grim whisper now as voices could be heard through walls. They’d broken into the store next to Mir’s.
Everybody quieted, each person working to make out a word or two of the muffled speech. Holly jumped and clutched at Luke’s arm when something hit the wall hard. Next to her, June crouched into a fighting stance.
Jeffer’s shadowy figure shuffled closer to the wall, almost pressing his ear to it. He held up a finger for silence, despite the already quiet room. Holly held her breath again, hoping it would help her hear better. When the pounding of her heart sped up and she started to feel a burning ache for air she slowly inhaled through her nose. She was on her second carefully silent breath when Jeffers backed away from the wall.
“Who lives the closest to here?” His voice was a normal volume, heedless of their prior whispering.
There was an exchange of glances, lit by Miranda’s cell phone flashlight before her aunt said, “I think it’s me. I’m about a mile away.” She paused waiting for anyone else to chime in. “Do you think we have to leave? What did you hear?”
“They’re ransacking the place. I could hear them looking for alcohol, and money. Said they scored some good drugs at the pharmacy two blocks over.” He shook his head in disgust. “I heard one of them talking about how he brought a gun. These situations bring out the ugly in people.” His voice was firm, with no room for negotiation. “I’m sorry, Miranda, but we have to try to make it to your place.”
“Maybe we can hide in the walk-in cooler?” June’s voice was as tense as her fighting stance.
“And risk getting locked in there?” Jeffers’ voice was taking on a commanding tone, his shoulders pulling back. “No, our best chance is to make a run for the nearest safe haven. This place has too much glass. We need somewhere more secure.” He paused as if calculating something in his head. “The street has been quiet except for these thugs. We’ll go out the back door. Stick together.”
“But it’s too danger—” June started.
“June!” Miranda hissed. “He’s a retired Army Major, he knows how to handle this kind of situation better than any of us. There isn’t going to be a perfect answer.” She sighed, reaching out to pat the girl gently on the shoulder. “Let’s stop arguing and start listening.” Miranda began handing out jackets from the pile in the corner to their owners. Luke pulled his sweatshirt on, a gleam of sweat visible along his forehead. He held out his heavy wool coat to Holly without a word.
They were all bundled and moving to the back door when something heavy hit the windows. Miranda flipped the deadbolts with shaking hands, the light from her cell phone bobbing across the kitchen. The sound of glass shattering made all of them jump. The voices of the men looting were suddenly louder. One could be heard laughing, a strange high pitched quality to it. They were talking and shouting, not scared of being caught.
Holly’s jaw ached from clenching her teeth. This couldn’t be real life. Surely she’d wake up soon, snuggled up in bed at Aunt Miranda’s house. Her chest felt tingly, her fingers numb when she clenched them inside the coat sleeves. This was not how real life was supposed to work.
Miranda hauled the door open. The alley behind the store was buried in blackness. The moon was covered by clouds. The street lamps were out. Jeffers ducked out, looking both ways and stepping back from the door’s opening. Her aunt ushered June out next. Holly’s knees felt like jelly as she stepped toward the door. Luke’s warmth was a reassuring presence at her back. At least she wasn’t going last. She stepped into the alleyway, the sound of the men shoving at the barricaded kitchen door spurring her out into the cold air. She could hear the screech of the chairs inching along the floor.
She paused, watching as her aunt frantically waved Adam through the door. The room was a cacophony of noise as the swinging door to the dining room thudded against the chairs again. The men could be heard shouting, laughing, breaking things. He shook his head. “I forgot my cell phone on the table.”
“Leave it!”
“I can’t.” He shoved Miranda into the night with one hand as he dodged back across the kitchen. He’d just picked up the phone, flipping on the flashlight app, when the barricade of chairs holding the swinging door toppled. Holly was frozen, staring in past the door jamb as Adam was caught by a tumbling chair. It knocked him off his feet, his head hitting the table corner as he fell. His phone skittered across the tile floor, casting the scene in a flurry of shapes and shadows. Four men crowded though the door, faces hidden by black ski masks. She could hear them joking about lighting the curtains on fire on their way out. They had bulky flannel jackets on, the pattern dancing in the bouncing light. One of the men noticed Adam, sprawled on the floor, scrabbling for purchase on the slick tiles. The view was torn away as her aunt shoved her away from the open door frame, toward the alley mouth.
Jeffers was there, shoving Miranda right behind her. He stayed behind, reaching in to close the metal door. Holly heard the sound a firework nearby. At least that would give them light to see by. She looked to the sky for the glow, tripping on a garbage bag. She was hauled to her feet by her aunt and Luke, dragged by each arm with their pounding footsteps. It wasn’t until they’d rounded the corner that she started to put it together. When she heard Jeffers, now entering the street, a shadow with hands raised.
“Don’t shoot. I’m leaving. Take whatever you want.”
“We want everything, old man. Our time is now.” That high pitched laugh bounced up and down the walls of the alley.
It wasn’t until she heard the fireworks again that she realized.
They weren’t fireworks.
They were gunshots.
Chapter 8
Holly gasped in breath after breath of icy air, her legs pumping faster and harder than any track meet she’d ever run. Her aunt was lagging behind, June just between them. Luke was somehow half a block ahead, sprinting through the darkness. The streets around them were silent, their footsteps echoing against the concrete. Holly couldn’t look back. She hadn’t looked back for blocks, fear nipping hard on her heels. What if those guys decided to chase them? What if they were already chasing them? What if Adam or Jeffers was somehow still alive? She slowed, afraid to pull too far ahead of her aunt.
&n
bsp; A block in front now, Luke was standing still, peering back at them. After a moment he stepped back to fade into the deeper shadows of the storefronts. Of course, Holly realized, he didn’t know where they were going. It made sense not to stand in the middle of the sidewalk. She allowed June to pass and matched pace with her aunt. They would not be leaving another person behind.
The moon finally peeked out from behind the cloud cover, giving them enough light to avoid stumbling over uneven edges of the sidewalk. Tears gleamed faintly on Miranda’s cheeks. Her aunt had not lost new acquaintances tonight, as Holly had. She’d lost workers; friends that she’d spent half her time with each week. For all she knew, they’d both already lost her parents. Holly gasped in another breath, trying not to think of it. There had been no word from them before the cell phones lost service. Miami had been on the list of cities in a state of emergency. What if they’d never made it onto the ship? No. Holly pushed the horror of the night, all of the unknowns, into a tiny corner of her mind. It couldn’t be real right now. She couldn’t function if she let it be real. She would deal with that later. They just had to get somewhere safe.
They reached the other two, huddled close to the building, waiting. June was panting hard, stretching a stitch in her side. Holly looked around, wondering how far they had come. She really hoped they’d run in the right direction. Her aunt would have stopped them if they hadn’t, right? She looked over at Miranda, bent at the waist, gulping air. She thought of the tears she’d seen. Maybe not. Maybe she wasn’t even fully with them right now. She wondered how long she’d known the other two. At least the year she’d owned the restaurant. Probably longer.
Holly’s head hurt. Those guys had killed them without knowing a thing about them. How was that even possible? For a life to be just snuffed out like that. Without a second thought, without a chance. What kind of person would do that? She had to stop thinking about it. She’d never make it through this dark run if she couldn’t just shove it all aside. Keep. It. Together.
“Which way from here?” Luke was leaning against the building, wiping sweat out of his eyes.
Miranda looked around for a moment, reading a few of the nearest storefronts. “Um—”
“Keep it down,” June hissed, rubbing her back.
Almost inaudibly, Miranda continued, “Two blocks straight, left for two more, then my townhouse is midway down the next block, on the right.” Holly breathed out a sigh of relief. It was going to be okay. Miranda was keeping it together. They were going to make it back home. Her aunt was still the adult here.
Luke looked at them. “Everyone’s exhausted. I think we should go slower now. More stealth and less speed.”
June nodded, “Yeah. If they were going to come for us, they would have by now. I’d rather sneak past anyone else than run like that again.” She was back to stretching out a side cramp.
Miranda stood up, nodding, catching her breath. “Okay, guys. We stick together.” Her voice was a low whisper, her face serious. “We stay quiet. We’re already more than halfway there.” She reached out and gripped Holly’s hand, slinking forward. Each of them remained pressed against the wall of the building.
They traveled in a line, silent, communicating only with glances and gestures. At each corner they paused, breathing slowly, quietly. Listening. The empty streets were eerie with dead stoplights and closed stores. Occasionally a flash of light could be seen in a window, usually an upstairs apartment. Holly wondered if anyone would let them in, if they asked. Probably not. She didn’t think she’d let somebody in, if she were in a position to.
The first two blocks were quiet. Pounding hearts and whispering boots were their only company. It was when they crossed the street to turn left, just two and a half blocks from safety, that their progress was broken. They were darting past a gloomy side street, barely larger than an alley, when the crash of a metal garbage bin shattered the silence. Holly’s entire body clenched and she was unable to stop the screech that erupted from her throat. Next to her, June yelped and crouched, fists up and ready. Her aunt and Luke both stopped in their tracks, frozen at the intersection. Something in the alley was coming toward them.
Holly’s heart resumed beating, a hammering rhythm, a war drum spurring her on to keep moving. She copied June’s stance. Her aunt would never be able to sprint fast enough to outrun danger. They would make a stand and face down whatever came next.
Her aunt brought up her phone, and turned the flashlight app on. They were all on the same page. If it was fight or flight, they would fight.
The light glared down the small street, illuminating their attacker.
Reflective, blinking eyes of a raccoon stared back at them.
Holly breathed out a sigh of relief. “Oh my gosh. I thought those things only lived in the forest.”
“They’ve actually been making their way into cities for the past decade; they can eat such a wide variety of food sources that they do pretty well here” Luke responded, staring at the little bandit. June snorted and slugged him on the arm, relaxing out of her defensive stance.
“What?” Luke swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing in the moonlight. “I watched a special on it on the National Geographic channel.”
Miranda turned the flashlight toward him. He flinched at the light in his eyes, turning away.
Holly blinked hard. She could have sworn the light reflected in his eyes. Maybe it was like when a person got red eye in a photo. It was the same light as the camera flash on the phone, afterall. Or maybe she’d just imagined it. It had been an insane night already. She’d had more adrenaline spikes in the past two hours than she’d had in her entire life.
They all stood there a moment, limbs loosening, smiles playing at the edges of their lips. They’d all been ready to fight a fluffy little raccoon. Miranda lowered her phone, clicking off the flashlight. Their eyes adjusted to the darkness again. Holly’s breathing returned to normal, her heart no longer thrumming in her ears. They were so close to home now.
Luke had just taken a step when the door of an apartment building in front of him slammed open. A small man burst out, wrenching the door against its hinges. His movements were jerky, dissonant. Like he just couldn’t keep still, twitching and convulsing as he took in the street before him. His mouth was a mess of blood and broken teeth, saliva frothing out of the corners, spilling down his chin. The pink foam there sparkled eerily in the moonlight. Holly stared, her gaze glued to that gaping and broken mouth as the man whipped around.
The group stood frozen in time, transfixed by the sight. The man tilted his head first to one shoulder, than to the other. He whipped his chin up and out, before jerking it back down to his chest. His eyes never left the phone in Miranda’s hand. The screen was still lit up from her recent use. June started to back away, taking small measured steps. Luke brushed into Holly’s shoulder as he did the same. He gripped her arm with one warm hand, tugging her back with him as he passed.
The man clenched and unclenched his bloody hands. Still, Holly could not tear her gaze away from his face. There was no look of intelligence, no comprehension or recognition in his eyes. His expression, twisted with rage, did not change as he shoved away from the door. He lumbered forward, his twisted knee and ragged lower left foot dragging behind him. Within two steps he was barrelling at full speed, straight for Miranda.
Holly’s body was shoved aside as he tackled her aunt hard into the sidewalk. Her aunt was screaming, covering her face and neck with her forearms as he raked torn nails down her coat sleeves. Before Holly could pull herself up off the ground, June blew past, swinging her leg up to catch the man fully in the face with a booted foot.
He didn’t even flinch. The kick snapped his head back, but he continued to scrabble at Miranda, dragging deep scratches across the backs of her exposed hands. Holly shoved at him, hoping to topple him off of her aunt. They had to do something. There had to be a way to stop this, to stop him.
Then June’s body was there next to Holly’s shoving
and grunting and forcing the man to lose his balance as his bad knee collapsed. Miranda rolled toward them, her back to him as he growled, spittle misting into the air around them. The girls gripped Miranda under the arms, dragging her forcefully to her feet. Holly didn’t know where Luke was, but she knew they had to keep moving. She shouted his name, getting no response. If there was anyone else out there, the noise of this fight would bring them running. They had barely managed to fight off one of these drug users. They would never survive a seething mass like the one they’d seen on TV.
They started up the street, Holly shouting again for their friend. June shushed her, reaching around Miranda to swat her hard in the stomach.
“Hey! We can’t leave him. We’re almost there.” Holly’s gaze darted along the stoops and door jambs when she caught movement behind them. She had just enough time to let out a yell before the crazed man crashed into the three of them. They went sprawling face first into the sidewalk, June borne down the hardest by the weight of the man. He was hitting at her wildly, pounding his fists into the sidewalk just as often as into her back and legs.
Holly pulled herself up again, a sharp pain stabbing through her ankle. She staggered toward June, intent on pulling her out from under him. Her aunt was dragging herself onto her knees, chin split and dripping blood. The sound of June grunting in pain drove Holly on despite the biting pain. The smaller girl was dragging herself forward, trying to get her body away from the raining blows. Her aunt was pointing, her eyes still glazed from hitting the sidewalk chin first. Holly followed her finger, and saw she was pointing to the man’s mangled foot.
Fighting nausea, Holly nodded, and limped behind the man, who was oblivious to her approach. She reached down, gripping the bloodied, crushed shoe and yanked as hard as she could. There was a popping sound, and the man’s foot pulled away at a bizarre angle. Still in her hands. Now barely attached to his leg. Gagging, she threw the foot down, staring as the man had no reaction, no recognition of pain.