by Harley Tate
The kid with nothing in his hands jumped at the sight of the gun. “Shit, David. He’s got a gun, too. Put it down! This is getting out of hand.”
Leah called out. “He’s stealing the propane tank.”
“That’s right.” A voice Grant recognized called out. Grant tracked it to a woman ten or fifteen years his senior with curly short hair and overalls.
“Hey, Susie. Is that yours?”
She nodded.
“Then I don’t see why you kids should have it.”
“We need it.” David, the one holding the tank, almost whined.
“Stealing isn’t the answer.”
“Then what is? It’s not like the stores are open.”
“Put it down.” No teenagers were going to steal from their neighbors as long as Grant lived in the neighborhood. It wouldn’t become a lawless free-for-all. Not yet.
He counted to five. “I’m not messing around.”
At last, David set the tank on the asphalt.
Grant lowered the gun. “Get the hell out of here.”
Preston balked. “You’re not going to hurt us?”
“No. But don’t try to steal anything from one of your neighbors ever again. Next time I won’t be so lenient.”
The boys took off, running as fast as their knobby knees could take them. Grant holstered the gun and walked over to his wife. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
Leah smiled, but the strain of the encounter pulled the corners of her mouth down. “Tell me about it.”
Faith head-butted his shin and he bent down to pat her head.
Susie called out to them. “Thank you both.”
Grant tugged Leah toward Susie’s house and the pair stopped in her driveway. He smiled. “It’s the least we could do.”
Susie hurried over to pick up the propane tank and carry it back to her house. “I can't believe you stood up to them.”
“Why?”
“They’re Greg’s boys. He’s liable to have a problem with it.”
Leah shuddered. “I ran into Greg outside. He’s got a problem with everything.”
Grant raised an eyebrow. “What happened?”
“Let’s just say he’s not the friendliest neighbor.”
“Well, I am.” Susie motioned toward her house. “I’ve got some sun tea that’s ready on the back porch. Want to come over for a while?”
“Can Faith come?”
Susie glanced down at the little dog. “Of course.”
“Then we’d love to. Tea sounds great.”
Grant followed Leah into the older woman’s house. Where their place was minimal and almost modern, Susie’s was full of color and fabric. Candles dotted every table and artwork adorned every wall.
He could almost forget her floor plan was the same as his own. Susie ushered them out to her backyard where a pergola covered the concrete patio that she’d painted a rich brown. She set the propane tank back on the shelf beneath the grill.
Grant broke the silence. “Thanks for inviting us over.”
Leah agreed. “You’re the first neighbor who hasn’t either wanted to steal from me or chastise me for trying to help.”
Susie poured tea from a glass pitcher and motioned for them to sit down. She glanced at Leah’s head with a question in her eyes.
Grant patted his wife on the arm. “Unfortunately, she wasn’t auditioning for a zombie flick when the world ended.”
“Then what happened?”
Leah reached up and touched her head. “How about I start at the beginning? It’ll make more sense that way.”
Grant listened while his wife filled both him and Susie in on her past week, everything from her trials at the hospital to Dr. Phillips and their escape from downtown. The bookstore where she waited out the worst of the fallout. The Walmart and the men she helped. Then the car crash and the head wound and the vicious cat, followed by a kind old woman and a terrible hospital experience.
Grant marveled.
His wife had more strength than he ever knew she possessed. How she left her sister behind and set off to find him without even spending the night in Hampton to rest up was beyond him. With a head wound and an infection and only an air rifle for defense, she managed to traverse almost a hundred miles when most of their neighbors never even left their street.
Susie leaned back in her chair. “That’s incredible. I can’t believe you went through all that.” She glanced at Grant. “I knew your husband had it rough at the sporting goods store, but all those dead people in the hospital…” Susie shuddered.
“What sporting goods store?” Leah focused on Grant and waited.
Grant indulged her curiosity and told his own story of the past week. He confirmed that downtown was nothing but a crater and that people were already turning away from the rule of law. He glossed over the shootout, but Susie chimed in.
“That’s not the way Dan tells it. He says you were a regular cowboy out there, standing up to eight guys with nothing but a handgun. He said you were lucky to make it out alive.”
Leah’s eyes went wide.
“Dan exaggerates. Did he tell you he had two rifles to back me up? Or that he shot first?”
Susie shook her head.
“Didn’t think so.”
Leah reached out and squeezed Grant’s hand. “I’m glad you made it out safely.”
“So am I.” Grant drained the rest of his tea and set the empty glass on the table. “But between the men at the strip mall, Donny the other night, and now Greg’s boys, I don’t have a lot of confidence in our fellow man.”
Susie’s face fell. “You think it’s going to get worse?”
“I know it is.”
“What should we do?”
Grant ran a hand through his hair and glanced up at the setting sun. “I have no idea. There are eighty-seven houses in our neighborhood. How many of those would actually join forces?”
Leah shook her head. “Not as many as I thought, I’m afraid.”
Susie agreed. “From what I’ve seen the last few days, it might be everyone for themselves.” She pulled a sweater off the back of her chair and slipped it on. “No one wants to share. No one wants to admit that they need help. It’s like the bombs killed more than people. They killed our spirit.”
“I don’t believe that.” Leah thumped the table. “We can’t be the only people in the neighborhood who want to work together.”
Grant opened his mouth to argue when a tremendous hammering on Susie’s front door sent Faith into a frenzy. She rushed into the house, barking loud enough to drown out the person outside.
With his hand out to caution Susie and Leah to wait, Grant rose up and eased into the house. He pulled his gun from the holster and held it pointed to the floor as he approached.
After looking through the peephole, he yanked open the front door. Dan stood on the front step, panting and out of breath.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s…your…truck.” He clutched the doorframe for support.
“The one Leah drove here? What about it?”
Dan sucked in another lungful of air. “It’s on fire.”
Chapter Five
GRANT
2078 Rose Valley Lane
Smyrna, Georgia
Sunday, 7:00 p.m.
The smell of burning rubber wrinkled Grant’s nose a full minute before the flames forced him to a stop. Dan was right.
Flames lapped over the hood of Leah’s truck, flicking and licking the air like red and orange snakes. Noxious plumes of gray smoke turned the dusk to night. Grant coughed as he inhaled the dirty air.
They had only been gone a few hours. Why would someone set fire to one of the few working vehicles in the neighborhood? Didn’t they know the value of a truck for hauling food and supplies?
He spun around, searching for anything to put out the flames. A fire hydrant sat three houses away, but without the tools to open it, it was useless. No one owned a pool and even if he could find a
bucket, it would be too little, too late.
As the fire engulfed the bench seat, flames leaped into the air. Embers landed hot and glowing on the concrete. If a bit of burning fabric hit their roof…
Grant rushed toward the fire, skirting the edge of the heat to reach the garage. Flames singed the air off his forearm and he stumbled back.
Dan lumbered across the next-door neighbor’s driveway, face red as a cherry and soaked in sweat. He stopped in the strip of grass separating the houses. “Do you have a hose?”
Grant nodded. “In the garage, but it’s too hot to get the big door open. I’ll have to go through the house.”
“Hurry.”
Grant ran around the truck as giant, billowing clouds of black smoke filled the sky. He fumbled with the keys before stumbling into the dark house. The fire lit up the entryway like a horror movie, casting shadows ten feet tall and wide.
After tearing down the hall and into the kitchen, he yanked open the interior door to the garage. As a blast of hot air smacked his face, he recoiled.
The heat from the fire turned the garage into an oven. Without insulation on the exterior door, the metal acted as a giant electrical coil, baking the inside of the garage. He rushed to the wire shelving.
The shelf full of fertilizer and lawn chemicals sat eye level. Even in the near-darkness, he could make out the warning labels. They had to contain the fire before something in the garage exploded.
If the house caught on fire, everything they owned would be destroyed. They would have nothing. How could they survive the coming months without food or shelter or supplies?
Grant dug through the bottom shelf until he found the hose in the dark. Reversing his steps, he rushed back out to the water spigot.
Dan waited beside it. “Hook it up and turn it wide open. I’ll douse the house. If it stays wet enough, it won’t catch.”
Grant crouched to attach the hose and turned the water on. Before the EMP and the bombs, their water pressure was strong enough to ruin landscaping and blow dirt out of cracks in the driveway. Now the water dribbled out of the hose in a limp stream.
“Is that it?”
Grant nodded.
Dan grimaced as he stretched the hose closer to the house. “Do you have a fire extinguisher?”
“Never got around to it.” Grant cursed his foolishness. He knew the risks. A grease fire in the kitchen. Hot lawn clippings in a sealed bag in the sun. All sorts of ordinary events could cause a fire, but he’d never taken the extra step to prepare.
“I don’t have one either, but you need to find one. Even if I keep the water running, it won’t be enough to save the house if the fire gets much bigger.”
Dan pointed the hose at the siding around the garage door and the roof, soaking everything he could reach. Grant rushed back to the street. The flames consumed his night vision, plunging all but the most immediate houses into darkness. For all he knew, half the block stood down the street, watching in silent horror.
He looked around with wide eyes. Where were his neighbors? Why was no one trying to help them? As he ran into the street, two shapes materialized out of the dark.
Leah and Susie.
They each held a fire extinguisher in their hands.
Grant exhaled. In the rush to reach his house, he hadn’t stopped to talk to his wife or ask for help. He’d only reacted.
She ran up to him, eyes reflecting the worst of the flames. “Who would do this?”
“I have no idea.” He glanced back at the truck, now fully engulfed. “We can’t salvage the truck, but we need to put the fire out before the house catches. The garage is way over a hundred degrees inside.”
Susie pulled the pin on the fire extinguisher. “I’ll work on the front of the truck. Leah, you hit the back.”
Grant looked around in a panic as the women moved toward the truck. “Where’s Faith?”
“Back at Susie’s. We left her there in case this was really bad.”
Grant nodded as Susie depressed the lever on her extinguisher. A blanket of white foam landed on the hood of the truck and smothered the flames. She worked it back and forth like a sprinkler, concentrating on the space between the windshield and the metal.
The flames receded and Grant hurried back to help Dan. The older man stood beside the truck, pointing the hose at the house with a grimace.
“What’s the matter?” Grant reached for the hose.
Dan stumbled back. His entire left arm was covered in angry welts. “Got a little too close to the truck. The flames were coming this way, so I tried to beat them back with the water.” He winced. “They got me instead.”
“As soon as we’re able, get inside and let Leah treat you. We’ve got to have something to take care of that.”
Dan nodded, his face streaked with soot and pain.
“Can you make it to Susie’s and Oliver’s?”
“I don’t see why not. My arm’s burned, not my feet.”
Grant grinned despite the situation. “Can you get my dog Faith and Oliver and bring them here?”
“Why? That kid wouldn’t know how to put out a fire unless it was on the internet.”
“He needs to know what’s happening.”
Dan nodded and set off down the street and in moments, he was lost to the darkness.
Thanks to Susie and Leah’s work with the fire extinguishers, the worst of the flames died down. Grant turned from soaking the house to the truck. It didn’t take long to contain the rest of the fire.
As the last of the smoke slowed to a wisp, he sagged against the wet wall of the house.
Leah came over and joined him, sweat dripping off her nose. She wiped it away. “That was close. If Dan hadn’t seen the fire…”
“Tell me about it.”
Leah leaned back against the house and closed her eyes. “Why didn’t anyone come to help us?”
“Guess we didn’t win the popularity contest.”
Susie dropped the empty fire extinguisher on the lawn and came over to join them.
“Thank you for helping.”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
Grant scrubbed his face. “You could ask everyone else in the neighborhood the same thing.”
Susie glanced around. “It is late. Maybe they didn’t know.”
Grant snorted. “That fire was the brightest thing for miles. Everyone knew.”
“They’re a bunch of pathetic limp noodles. That’s why.” Dan grunted as he deposited Faith at Grant’s feet.
Oliver hurried up the driveway, side-eyeing the burnt-out truck the entire way. “I guess I missed all the fun.”
“Something like that.” Grant bent to scratch Faith behind the ear. The dog ducked behind his legs and stared out at the street. She knew the fire meant trouble, too. He motioned to Leah. “Dan’s got a burn on his arm. Can you treat it?”
Leah pushed off the wall in an instant. “Of course. If the fire’s out, how about we come inside and I can check everyone for injuries?”
Susie turned to stare at the street. “Are you sure it’s safe?”
“The truck’s a cinder. With all the foam and water bogging it down, there’s no way it will re-ignite.”
“What about the house?”
Grant weighed the odds. “I’m guessing whoever lit the truck on fire is done for the night. If they really wanted to hurt us, whoever did it would have set fire to the house. So far, they aren’t that bold.”
“So far? What else has happened?” Oliver pushed his glasses up his nose and stared at the truck.
“Come on in and we can discuss it. I don’t want to talk out here.”
Grant opened the door and everyone filed in past him.
Leah paused on the step with Faith at her heels. “Do you really think we’re okay to not guard the front of the house?”
His brow pinched as he thought it over. “Yes and no, to be honest. But we can’t figure out what to do if we’re too busy staring out into the dark.” He glanced down at Fait
h. “She’ll let us know if someone is poking around.”
“Are you sure?”
“About her?” Grant smiled down at the dog as she walked into the house and took up position by the front door. “Definitely.”
Leah exhaled. “All right. Then I’ll treat Dan and anyone else who needs help.”
“And together we’ll figure out what the hell is going on.”
Grant followed his wife inside and shut the door. Faith lingered by the front of the house, ears alert and listening.
Chapter Six
LEAH
2078 Rose Valley Lane
Smyrna, Georgia
Sunday, 10:00 p.m.
The skin on Dan’s arm puckered with blisters, but as Leah applied a salve, she smiled. “It’s a mild second-degree. A few of the blisters might weep or ooze, but as long as you keep it bandaged and clean, it should heal in a couple of weeks.”
“Thanks.” Dan glanced up and Leah followed his gaze. Her husband paced the kitchen in the dark, head bent in thought.
Dan called out. “You keep doing that and the wood floor will wear straight through. You’ll be walking on concrete slab before you know it.”
Grant slowed. “I think better when I walk.”
Leah finished bandaging Dan’s arm and stood up. Susie and Oliver sat at the breakfast table with Dan, sharing a lantern and each other’s company. Leah met her husband in the kitchen. “Is it the fire? Or something else?”
He rubbed the back of his neck and his frown deepened. “I think we need to leave.”
“What?”
“We should pack our things and hit the road.”
Leah shook her head. “And go where?”
Grant ground his fist into his palm. “Anywhere. There are a million small towns that escaped the nuclear bombs. One of them will let us in.”
Leah crossed her arms. “I’m not going to Hampton.”
“I didn’t say that. We could go anywhere.”
“What does a small town have that we don’t?”