Fourth Dimension

by Eric Walters

  “What happened?” my mother asked.

  Sam started to talk and others added excited words. It all came out in a rush, and it was pretty much what we’d expected to hear.

  The Ward’s Island community had been attacked by a group of men who came in off the beach. They had weapons and started breaking into houses, taking food and whatever else they wanted, setting fires and shooting anybody who tried to stop them. Those were some of the bodies we’d seen on the field. Some people managed to escape by running out the back doors and through the narrow lanes. It was the people of Ward’s Island who had broken through the barricade on the bridge to get away to safety. Once over here they’d hidden in the forest waiting for daylight.

  “Have they gone, or are they still over on Ward’s?” my mother asked.

  “We don’t know,” a man said, and others nodded.

  “Until you know, you need to get everybody into the forest and under cover,” my mother said.

  “Do you think we’re in danger here?” Chris asked.

  “If you’re in rifle range you could be in danger.”

  Chris nodded. “Sam, can you move people away?”

  “Sure thing, Grammy.” Sam and another man quickly started moving the crowd into the trees. Allegra, still holding onto her mother with one hand, grabbed one of my hands and pulled me along. My mother followed closely behind. We stopped when we came to a small clearing in the middle of the forest that had some benches and a volleyball court. The nets were gone, and I wondered if somebody else had figured they could be used as fishing nets.

  Many of the children were dressed in pyjamas and many of the people were shoeless. Some were limping, and others had scratches and cuts on their faces. One woman was being carried and her top was blood-stained. Had she been shot? I pointed her out to my mother and she nodded. Maybe she could help.

  Chris approached my mother. “Could we talk?”

  She walked away, and we followed behind as she went through the crowd asking a number of people to join us. Satisfied, she led the group—there were five other people, including Sam—and we walked out of the clearing.

  “We need to make a decision,” Chris said. “What do we do now?”

  “We can’t just stay here in the forest,” a man said.

  “He’s right,” another man jumped in. “We need to get people home, we need to check on the people we left behind, and we need to get food and water and care for the injured.”

  I wanted to ask a question but kept my mouth shut as Chris asked it instead.

  “And if the men with the weapons are still there, what happens?” she asked.

  “We didn’t see anybody,” a second man said.

  “Not seeing anybody from across the channel doesn’t mean that there’s not anybody there,” Sam replied. “They could be hiding in the houses and we’d never know until we were close enough to get ourselves shot as well.”

  “Then do we just wait?” the woman asked.

  “I could go over and check,” Sam offered.

  “Not by yourself,” Chris replied. She turned directly to my mother. “Would you go with him? Would you be part of a group that goes over?”

  Everybody was looking at my mother. She shook her head. I was shocked.

  “I won’t be part of a group, but I will lead a group,” she said.

  I almost laughed out loud. That was so like my mother. “I’m a Marine. I’ve been trained. And everybody in the group has to do exactly what I tell them to do.”

  “I’ll agree to that,” Sam said. Chris nodded. “We’ll all agree. I’ll make sure of it.”

  16

  We divided into two groups. The two people in the first group had guns and were going to take up a position at the bottom of the bridge. They weren’t to cross until they were given a sign. The second group included my mother, Sam, and one of the big, bearded men we’d originally met at the beach weeks before, Garth. I was the fourth person, because I refused to stay back, and my mother reluctantly let me join. It seemed a lifetime ago that I didn’t want to even be around her; now I didn’t want to be away from her.

  We headed to a spot where we were under cover and the channel was the narrowest. The goats and sheep were grazing on the baseball field but nothing else was moving. Behind them the community was clearly visible in the morning light. It was almost nine and the sun was bright, making everything—including us—very visible. One cottage had been completely burned down. All that remained were blackened posts. Behind that first row of cottages, two thin pillars of smoke continued to rise into the blue sky. I assumed they marked two more cottages that were still smoldering.

  My mother motioned for Sam and Garth to go forward. The two men went to the edge of the channel and took up positions crouched behind a log, their rifles trained across the way. My mother moved to their side and then past them, silently easing into the water. I knew her gun was in its holster. I also knew it was completely waterproof. She swam across without making a splash, reached the far side, and pulled herself out and onto the shore, where she moved across open territory and took shelter behind a park bench. She signaled for me.

  Crouching over I covered the distance to the channel. I slipped in and gasped when the cold water hit me. Holding my bow in one hand, with the quiver on my back, I dog-paddled across the opening. In the water, with the banks rising up, I couldn’t see anybody or anything on either side.

  I reached the shore but hesitated as a shiver went through my entire body. I think it had less to do with the cold and more to do with the fear of what might be ahead. The thought occurred to me that maybe convincing my mother to take me along wasn’t such a great idea after all. But now I had no choice. I pulled myself out of the water, onto the bank, and in sopping wet clothes crossed the gap of open land. At last I reached the bench and slumped down beside my mother. Her gun was drawn so I pulled out an arrow and set it on the string. Part of me realized this was almost ridiculous, but the bow was in many ways more an emotional shield than an actual weapon. It was all I had to hide behind, except this bench.

  My mother gave a signal and Sam slipped into the river. His rifle, which wasn’t waterproof, was placed on a small wooden float. He pushed the little float ahead of him as he swam. He reached the shore and took up a position at the edge of the bank, lying flat and aiming his rifle at unseen dangers in the community.

  Garth quickly followed. Now all four of us were on this side of the channel. My mother gave a signal to the other two men, and they quickly responded by moving up and over the bridge. They jogged along the path until they came to the edge of the baseball outfield and took cover behind a couple of garbage cans.

  Leading with her pistol, my mother moved across the open grass. I looked left to Garth and right to Sam. They both had their rifles aimed forward, sweeping back and forth. I wanted to say something to them but my mother had insisted that we remain as silent as possible.

  In a matter of seconds we reached the fence surrounding the first cottage. My mother motioned for me to stop there and she continued up the walk and onto the porch. The front door was open. She flattened herself against the wall and first peeked in and then headed inside, disappearing from my sight. I held my breath and—she reappeared and motioned for me to come with her. I raced forward, crossing the porch in one step, into the safety of the house.

  “I’m glad nobody was—” I stopped myself as I saw the body lying in the corner.

  “Don’t look,” she said.

  “Is she…is she…?”

  “Yes.”

  The wooden floor beside the body was stained dark red with blood.

  There was a thumping on the porch, and before I could react Sam and Garth came in through the door.

  “Damn,” Sam said. “That’s Mrs. Fraser. She’s a good friend of my grandmother’s.” He bent down beside her. “Who would want to shoot an innocent old woman?”

  He took a tablecloth from the table and gently covered her with it. I was grateful.
r />   “Did she live here by herself?” my mother asked.

  “Yes. She was always here, my entire life, and now she’s gone.”

  Sam looked shaken. Garth didn’t look much better. My mother looked calm and in control. Thank goodness for her.

  “Sam, I want you to signal for the other two to move up to this position. Garth and Emma, I need you to come with me as I move to the next house.”

  Neither Sam nor Garth moved. They were both staring at the covered body. For me it was an old dead woman but for them it was a person—Mrs. Fraser.

  “Gentlemen!” my mother snapped. “I need you to do as you’re ordered.”

  They both jumped to it. Sam ran out the door, and we followed my mother as she headed through the kitchen, pausing at the back door before proceeding out. Garth and I bumped into each other as we went through the door and we both apologized. We took cover behind a barbecue on the back deck and watched as my mother disappeared inside the back door of another cottage.

  “I’m glad your mother is here,” Garth said. “She really knows how to take charge.”

  “It’s her specialty.”

  She reappeared and gestured for us to come forward. We crossed the opening, hopped over a small fence, and then skidded into the kitchen of the house. The cupboards were all open and canned food was scattered on the counter and had spilled onto the floor.

  “Do you know who lives here?” my mother asked.

  “I know who lives in every house. This is the Saunders’ place. Noah and Suzette, and they have a son, Jaxson.”

  “Did they get out?” my mother asked. “Were they over with you on Main Island?”

  “I don’t think I saw them, but that doesn’t mean much. They could still be over there hiding someplace.”

  “I understand. It’s just that I thought I heard something,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “I want you to call out their names, so if they’re here they’ll know it’s you.”

  “You think they might be here someplace hiding?” Garth asked.

  “Possibly.”

  Garth walked into the living room. “Noah…Suzette, it’s Garth! It’s safe to come out!” he called out in his deep baritone voice. “It’s me, it’s Garth!”

  There was noise from above. We looked up to a sleeping loft and suddenly a panel slid open from the rafters and a man looked down—I assumed it was Noah.

  “Garth, it’s so good to see you!”

  He lowered himself down and then helped a boy and then a woman. They clambered down a wooden ladder and all three threw their arms around Garth. They all looked terrified, and the woman looked as though she’d been crying. They went on to explain that they’d seen men on the street and on the path behind their house. They’d seen them shoot at people and smash in the front door of the house beside theirs. When they realized they couldn’t flee, they hid, getting into the attic just before their front door was kicked in.

  Then they explained that they hid in the rafters while the men tore apart their house. After the men left they could hear them moving around the neighborhood until sometime in the middle of the night.

  “I want the three of you to go over the bridge to Main Island,” my mother said.

  “Aren’t we safe here now?” Suzette asked.

  “We won’t know until we clear all the houses,” my mother answered.

  “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but who are you?” Noah asked.

  “She’s a friend,” Garth answered before she could. “A friend who’s helping us.”

  “Go out through the kitchen and over to the bridge,” my mother directed. “There are people waiting for you there.”

  “Sure, and thank you. I didn’t mean any offense when I asked who you are,” he said.

  “No offense taken. Being careful is what needs to be done. I’m just glad you’re all fine.”

  They disappeared at almost the same instant Sam came into the house.

  “Are you three ready for the next house?”

  “As ready as we’re going to be,” Sam said. Garth and I both nodded.

  “I’m a little shaky,” Garth admitted.

  “If it’s only a little, you’re doing well. That’s two down and a whole lot more to go.”

  —

  I sat in the corner of the meeting room at the community center, trying to blend into the background. My mother—along with Chris, Sam, Garth, and another dozen people—sat at a large table. My mother had been almost completely silent, unless she was asked something directly. I figured she had her reasons.

  I sat and listened as they described what had happened.

  They hadn’t seen the attack coming. The attackers had been ashore and on the streets so quickly that even their defenders with guns were caught by surprise, unsure how to react. The invaders set fire to six of the cottages. Three burned to the ground. They went from cottage to cottage looting what they could and shooting whoever they found—even if they weren’t fighting back or were simply trying to run away. In the end they counted thirty-four people killed, over thirty wounded or injured, and another dozen who still hadn’t been accounted for. My mother had stabilized the injured as much as she could, but with two it was probably just a matter of time before they died and added to the death count.

  At my mother’s direction the bodies had all been collected and were in the big room adjacent to the meeting room. They had been laid on the floor side by side, covered by sheets. A room that had once been used for yoga and kids’ gym classes was now a morgue. I couldn’t stop thinking about them in there. I thought that I could even smell the bodies.

  Those bodies were the only part of this that seemed real to me. What I heard was only numbers. What I saw in the reactions of the people out there and around this table reminded me that these numbers represented real people. I hadn’t known these people when they were anything except bodies. This wasn’t a dream, or a nightmare, or even a bad movie I was watching—this was real. Those were real people. No, those used to be real people.

  So much of what had happened over the past weeks seemed unreal. We were living in a makeshift camp on an island, scavenging for food, hiding from people with guns, while civilization ground to a halt.

  “So what do we do now?” Chris asked.

  There was silence around the table.

  “Ellen, what do you think should happen now?” Chris asked my mother.

  “It’s not my place to say anything.”

  “I understand your reluctance,” Chris said.

  “And we all appreciate what you’ve done for us,” another woman added.

  “I guess what we’re asking is probably something not you or anybody else can even answer. Will they come back?” Chris questioned.

  “Oh, no, I can answer that,” my mother said. “They will be back. That’s a guarantee.”

  “You can’t know that for sure,” a man argued.

  “Yes, I can,” my mother said. There was that certainty in her voice—calm, sure, and confident. “If it’s not them, it will be somebody else who will do the same thing.”

  That sent a visible chill around the table.

  “Here you have resources that they need, and you’ve shown no ability to protect those resources. They took some, the things that would fit in their boat. They know there are more valuable items here so they will be back. The only questions are when, how many more people will they bring the next time, and how many more of you are going to die.”

  “Are you saying we should leave?” Chris asked.

  “You have to make your decisions. I’m not part of your community,” she said.

  “But if it were you, if you were part of us, would you recommend we leave?” Sam asked.

  “Leave for where?” she asked. “You have no other place to go.”

  “So you’re saying we can’t stay and we can’t go,” one of the other women said.

  “I’m suggesting that you have to take measures to defend your community,” she said.

 
“And how would we do that?” Garth asked.

  “I’ve already spoken more than I have a right to.” She got to her feet and I got to mine. “We have to go.”

  “Wait!” Chris exclaimed as she got to her feet. “Could you two please wait outside? It will just be a minute, I promise.”

  My mother and I stepped out and waited outside the community center. There was still daylight, but the sun was starting to go down.

  “Can we get home before dark?” I asked.

  “If we leave soon we’ll be all right.”

  “You’re sure those men are coming back, aren’t you?”

  “Why wouldn’t they come back? I’m more surprised they left. This place is full of resources, and none of these people have the faintest idea how to defend it.”

  “Could you tell them how to do it?”

  “I have some ideas, but ideas aren’t enough. They need resources and weapons and, maybe most important, a will to fight. And I’m not certain if this place is even defensible.”

  “But if they ask you, will you tell them?”

  “I’ll offer them what—”

  The door opened and Sam poked his head out. “Could you come back in for a minute, please?”

  We went inside and my mother retook her seat at the table. I stood behind her chair.

  “I’ve been authorized to speak for the group,” Chris said. “And I want to start by once again thanking you for assisting us. We appreciate your help.”

  “Neighbors help neighbors, and I guess, in a way, we’re neighbors,” my mother replied.

  “That’s actually what I’d like to talk to you about. We’ve discussed it, and we want to offer you and your children an invitation to join our community.”

  That was exactly what I had been hoping for. I reached down to touch my mother on the arm.

  “You have certain skills that we’re lacking,” a man added.

  “That presents a problem,” my mother said. “There are not three of us. There are six others, as well as a baby.”