by Tom Abrahams
“There’s someone in the house,” he said, pulling the truck as close as he could to the Camaro without hitting it.
“What?” Leigh asked. “Are you sure? One of the neighbors could be parked in our driveway. That doesn’t—”
“They’re West Virginia plates.” James indicated the car with his hand. “And there’s candlelight in Sloane’s bedroom. Somebody is in our house!”
“What do we do?” asked Leigh, her eyes widening.
“We get it back.”
CHAPTER 58
EVENT +1 Week, 2 Days, 17:48 Hours
University Park, Maryland
Temporary Recovery Zone 5
James left his family in the truck, the doors locked, and walked the short concrete path connecting his driveway to the front stoop of his home. He quietly stepped up the two brick pavers onto the stoop and raised his hand to knock on the door. He’d considered trying the doorknob, but decided against it. Whoever was inside his home could be armed. He’d rather not surprise them.
“I wouldn’t do that,” a voice called from the street.
James spun around, his hand still poised to knock, and saw a dark figure standing at the curb in front of his house. He didn’t recognize the person, but he knew the voice.
“Sonny?” James called after stepping off the porch and into the front yard. His ankles told him the lawn hadn’t been cut since he’d left. “Is that you?”
“It’s me.” Sonny Lawrence stepped into the grass to greet his longtime neighbor and friend. “I can’t believe it’s you, James.” Sonny wrapped his arms around James and hugged him. “Where are Leigh and the kids?”
“In the car.” James pointed back to the truck.
“New truck?” Sonny squinted, trying to better see the vehicle in the driveway.
“Sort of,” James said. “What’s going on? Who’s in my house?”
“Before I explain,” Sonny said, leading James back to the curb, “you might want to move that truck. Bring your family with you and crash at my place.”
“I don’t—”
“I’m telling you”—Sonny raised his finger, his tone stern—“get your family and that truck and meet me at my house. It’s not safe out here.”
James nodded without protesting any further and moved his family two houses down, parking in Sonny Lawrence’s driveway. He told Leigh there was a problem, he didn’t know how serious it was, but Sonny had warned him to move.
He welcomed Leigh with a warm hug and the kids with bags of freeze-dried Neapolitan ice cream. “It keeps longer than cookies,” he explained. Max and Sloane thanked him and found their way to the kitchen. Sonny’s bulldog Albert was under the table, hiding from the intruders. Usually, Albert was the first to the door, ready to bound outside. The event had affected him too.
“I didn’t know if I’d see you again,” Sonny said, helping James with a small bag from the back of the truck. “You were in Maine, right?”
“Yes.”
Sonny took Leigh’s bag and placed it on the floor next to a small bench in the foyer.
“It wasn’t as easy a trip back as it was there.”
Sonny laughed and led his guests into the family room. It was comfortable, lit by oil-fed hurricane lanterns, and still carried Sonny’s wife’s feminine touch. A large black-and-white photograph of her was centered on the mantle above the fireplace. It was the focal point of the room.
“So who’s in our house, Sonny?” James plopped into an easy chair next to the hearth after offering Leigh the seat. She declined and sat at his feet on the matching ottoman.
“How long have they been there?” she asked.
“Since the fourth or fifth day.” Sonny eased onto the sofa facing them. He winced as his knees protested the depth of the seat. “I’m not sure.”
“Who are they?” James repeated.
“As best I can tell”—Sonny leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees—“they’re a pair of brothers, a wife or girlfriend, and a couple of kids. They tried Jack Pollock’s place first. He turned them away.”
“So why did you tell me not to knock?” James sat up in the easy chair. “If they left Jack Pollock alone, then—”
“They didn’t leave him alone.” Sonny shook his head. “After they moved into your place, they went back and killed him and Lee.”
“Wait!” Leigh shot to her feet. “What? They killed them?”
“They shot him in the doorway,” said Sonny. “Then they killed her, looted the house, dragged their bodies into the yard, and went back to your place.”
“How do you know this?” Leigh dropped onto the ottoman.
“I saw it happen,” he said. “I was in my driveway talking to the Gilberts about your house, since they’re your next-door neighbors, and we saw the woman and the brothers walk over to Jack’s house. She knocked. He answered the door, yelled something at them, and the men shot him. Dead. Right there.”
“Oh my…” Leigh covered her face. “Where are Jack and Lee now? Where are their bodies?”
“We don’t know.” Sonny shrugged. “We think they pulled them into the backyard, back into the house, or buried them. We haven’t been over there.”
“What else do we know about them?” James leaned into his wife, draping his arms around her from behind. “They’re from West Virginia?”
“We can assume that from the plates,” said Sonny. “But you’re driving a truck with Vermont plates. So…”
“Right.”
“What about the Whistlers on the end of the street, and the Woods?” asked James. “How are they?”
“They’re both fine,” said Sonny, nodding. “Nervous but fine. The people in your house haven’t come outside since they killed the Pollocks. Not that we know of, anyhow. We take turns watching them. I was on duty tonight when I saw you pull up.”
“Why them?” asked Leigh, her chin trembling. “Why haven’t they attacked anyone else?”
“Well”—Sonny shifted in his seat, resting his elbow on the arm of the sofa—“we figured you didn’t have much food in your house. You were on vacation.”
“True,” agreed James. “Maybe canned goods, some rice, pasta, sauces. That was about it. We ate everything else before we left.”
“Right.” Sonny sighed. “They went through that in a few days and then went after the Pollocks. They knew they were alone, or figured they were. They took their stock. That was two days ago.”
“So they’ll use up his rations and then attack another house?” Leigh worried.
“That’s what we’re all thinking,” said Sonny. “We figure it’s going to be tomorrow or the next day.”
“What are you doing about it?” asked James. “Why isn’t everybody huddled into one place? There’s safety in numbers.”
“Sometimes,” Leigh mumbled.
“Nobody’s willing to do that yet,” said Sonny. “We discussed it. People are afraid of the panic, of cabin fever, of giving in to these thugs. We abandon all of the houses but one and they run roughshod over the whole street.”
“We can’t just sit back and take this,” said James. “I want my house back. I want them gone.”
“What do you propose?” asked Sonny.
“There’s three of them, plus kids.” James held up five fingers. “And we have one, two…nine adults. We can take them.”
“Are you serious?” Leigh pulled away from her husband. “Despite what we’ve been through, we are not SEAL Team Six. We can’t just swoop in and take out the bad guys.” She turned to Sonny. “What about the police? Can’t they do something?”
“We have no way of getting in touch with them,” said Sonny. “We tried. We have no phones. So 9-1-1 is useless. We’ve heard rumors they’re communicating on short-range walkie-talkies. That does us no good. None of our cars are working. So I walked over to the headquarters on Baltimore Avenue the day they killed Jack and Lee. I know a couple of the guys from my days with Prince George County P.D. Nobody was there.”
“What do you mean nobody?” Leigh was incredulous.
“I mean nobody.” Sonny shrugged. “There was a note on the door indicating the entire force was coping with Baltimore. It suggested anyone who needed help should contact Riverdale or campus police. And being black and armed, I wasn’t about to test my luck at a place where I didn’t have friends.”
“What do we do?” Leigh asked Sonny. “What are you doing?”
“We live with it for now,” said Sonny. “We deal with it when they try something again. Take a defensive position.”
“No, we don’t,” said James. “We go on the offensive. I refuse to live in fear. I refuse to let anyone live in my house and terrorize what’s left of this neighborhood. We’ve come too far for this.”
“So I’ll put it to you again, James,” Sonny said. “What do you propose?”
“We get together, all of us,” answered James. “We talk this through. All of us together can come up with something before it’s too late to do anything.”
“We have a planned meeting here tomorrow morning,” revealed Sonny. “Will that work?”
“Sure.”
“In the meantime”—Sonny pressed on his knees and stood—“you stay here. I’ve got two empty bedrooms for you. You’re here as long as you want to be.”
“Thank you, Sonny.” Leigh stepped to her neighbor and hugged him.
“Thank you.” James joined his wife and patted his friend on the shoulder. “But I don’t plan on staying long.”
CHAPTER 59
EVENT +1 Week, 3 Days, 03:30 Hours
University Park, Maryland
Temporary Recovery Zone 5
James Rockwell blinked open his eyes, not remembering having fallen asleep the night before. He reached over to his wife, but found empty sheets.
What time was it? How long had he slept?
He rolled over onto his back and stared at the popcorn ceiling, absently trying to identify a pattern in the random bumps until he heard voices downstairs. They dragged him back to reality and he slipped on his clothes before traipsing to the kitchen to join them.
His children were sitting at the bar, drinking juice and eating from ziplock bags of cheerios. At the table, petting Albert the dog, was Leigh. Her back was to him as he descended the stairs, seated next to Emma Wood and Abbey Whistler. Their husbands, Grant and Neil, were in the living room on the sofa, as were the Gilberts. They were all deep in conversation and none of them seem to notice James as he walked into the small space between the kitchen and living room.
“James,” said Sonny, who was sitting in the easy chair. “Good morning! You slept well.”
“A rare blessing,” James said, waving a greeting to the Gilberts, Grant Wood, and Neil Whistler. “So what did I miss?”
“We’re talking about how to handle the people living in your house now that you’re home,” said Neil. “We understand you’d like to take a proactive approach.”
“That sounds like police talk.” James chuckled, giving Sonny a knowing glance. “But I guess it’s accurate. I’m not sure why you’re content to sit and wait for the inevitable.”
“You just got here,” snipped Grant. “You haven’t been living this. So I don’t think it’s fair for you to swoop in and judge—”
“Hold on.” James waved his hands, stopping Grant from ranting. “I’m not judging anyone. It’s just an observation. And as for living this? You have no clue what it took for my family and me to get home. You don’t want to know, either.”
“Nobody was suggesting—” Sonny tried to run interference, but James stopped him.
“Yes, they are,” James corrected him. “Grant is suggesting I’m trying to bulldoze everyone without knowing the reality of the situation. And maybe I am.” James glared at Grant. “My house is occupied by someone other than my family. And the people living there are killers. They did it once. They’ll do it again.”
“That doesn’t mean we need to stoop to their level,” reasoned Grant.
“Stoop?” James laughed, his voice rising an octave. He could feel his face growing hot, the desire to clench his fists. “How are we stooping, Grant, by making sure these murderers don’t kill your family next?”
“Rock!” Leigh put her hand on her husband’s back, rubbing it gently. “Calm down,” she counseled. “We’re all on the same team.”
“I think we need to come up with a reasonable plan to prevent another attack,” said Stuart Gilbert, his wife nodding in agreement. “It doesn’t have to involve violence. I agree with what both of you are saying. We can find a middle ground.”
James looked at Stuart as if he were France casting its vote at the UN Security Council, but he said nothing. Standing with his arms folded across his chest, he waited for Sonny to offer a solution.
“Well”—Sonny sighed—“I think that may be the best idea. We can be prepared without being trigger-happy.”
“What exactly does that mean?” asked Grant.
“We’ve been on a rotation,” explained Sonny, “watching the Rockwells’ house since Jack was…”
“Right,” said Grant. “We know.”
“We haven’t put together a plan about what to do if we actually see anything,” said Neil. “Is that where you’re going with this?”
James wanted to walk along the length of the sofa and punch everyone in the face. It was as if his neighborhood was filled with ostriches intent on burying their heads in the sand. Their idiocy and lack of recognition was astounding. He squeezed the circulation out of his hands and took a deep, cleansing breath. Leigh kept her hand on his back.
“Yes,” said Sonny. “If we see movement, we need to have a plan of action. Does anyone have any suggestions?”
“My guess would be they’re coming for your house next,” James said softly, directing his stare to the Gilberts.
“Why do you say that?” asked Stuart, his brows furrowed and lips pursed.
“It involves the least risk.” James shrugged. “You’re next door. It’s the shortest distance back to the safety of my house.”
“That’s a good point,” said Sonny. “They did scout Jack’s house first, right?”
The gathering mumbled as would the extras in a Broadway play, unintelligibly with overexaggerated shoulder shrugs and nods. They all agreed the Gilberts’ home was likely the next target.
“So,” continued Sonny, “we should be on the lookout for a scouting trip to Stuart and Susan’s place. Once we identify they’re targeting their house, we’ll have, at most, a few hours to react.”
“We’ll need to clear the house,” suggested James. “We should do it now, actually.”
“I’m not leaving my house,” said Stuart. “Why would I do that?”
“Because,” James explained, “they’ll see it. They’ll know you’re gone. And then all we’ve done is give them three houses on the street. But if you leave now and make them think you’re still home, we have an advantage.”
“Go on,” said Sonny.
“Well”—James unfolded his arms and started talking with his hands—“we need to trick them into thinking they have the element of surprise. When, in fact, we do. If we stop them at the Gilberts’, this will be over. If we don’t, our houses will fall one by one.”
“How does stopping them at my house get your house back?” asked Stuart. “Especially if we’re trying to avoid any bloodshed.”
“I never said I was going to avoid bloodshed,” said James. “I just tacitly agreed to minimize it, to forego a preemptive strike.”
“I don’t know—” started Grant.
“Hold on, Grant,” Sonny stopped him. “James is right. You have to fight fire with fire. We need to be prepared to defend ourselves.”
Grant leaned back in the sofa, pouting and biting his lip. He turned to look at Stuart and Neil. They shrugged. Grant sucked in a deep breath and then huffed, “Fine. What’s your idea, James?”
“Thanks for asking, Grant.” James smiled. “If we all work together,
I’m telling you, we get our homes back.”
CHAPTER 60
EVENT +1 Week, 3 Days, 10:00 Hours
University Park, Maryland
Temporary Recovery Zone 5
“So you really think it’s best we’re all living together under one roof?” Leigh asked James. They were sitting on the edge of the bed in their room. Their kids were playing with Albert on the screened porch in the backyard.
“We don’t have a choice,” he explained. “We can’t have everyone moving from one house to the other. There’s safety in numbers. Plus, it’s easier to take shifts on watch if we’re keeping each other honest.”
“Grant Wood doesn’t seem too keen on this whole thing.” Leigh chuckled. “Even though Emma is pushing him to trust you.”
“I’ve never been a huge fan of his,” James whispered.
“I know.” Leigh rolled her eyes.
“That obvious?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll have to do a better job of masking my disdain.” He kissed his wife on the forehead and stood from the bed.
“As long as we get our house back and everyone survives this”—Leigh took her husband’s hand, holding it to her cheek—“I don’t care what you mask. When is your shift?”
“A couple of minutes.” James brushed Leigh’s face with the back of his hand. “We’re staggering the move-ins.”
“I know.” She looked up at him, her eyes wide. She was still the most beautiful girl in the world to him. And she knew he loved the way she looked at him. “The Gilberts are already here. The Whistlers will come by at sundown and the Woods will once it’s dark.”
“Good,” said James. “I know this will work, Leigh.”
“Just be careful.” She stood, pressing her body against his, her arms sliding around his shoulders to caress the back of his head. “I’ve almost lost you twice. I can’t do this without you.”
“I’ll be careful,” James assured her with a confidence he could tell surprised her.