Surviving Rage | Book 1

by Arellano, J. D.

  “OK. What are you gonna do?”

  “I’m just gonna park this down the hill, so it's not in front of our house.”

  “Why?”

  Daniel made his way around to the driver side, pointing at the car. “It’s pretty recognizable now. I don’t want anyone looking for revenge to see it near our house.”

  “You’ll be back soon?”

  He reached into the car, grabbed the shotgun, expelled the empty shells, and slapped two more in. “I’ll be back before you know it. Close the garage, OK?” He slid back into the car, putting the shotgun back in its now familiar space. He started the car and slowly drove down the driveway, watching in the rear view mirror as the garage door closed. Once he saw it shut completely, he put his foot on the gas, anxious to dump the car and get home to his family. They’d been hurt in his absence, and he couldn’t help but feel that he was to blame.

  ‘I should have been there,’ He told himself as the car sputtered its way down the street towards the stop sign. The check engine light had been on since the crash, and now the battery and oil lights were on as well. ‘Just a bit farther.’ He rolled through the stop sign, placing the vehicle in neutral and allowing the car to coast down the hill. If the engine only had a bit of power left in it, he wanted to save it.

  He went straight through the stop sign and continued down the hill. He thought briefly about parking it near the condo complex, but didn’t want to risk any of the people there becoming unfairly targeted, so he bypassed it and headed for the office complex near the bottom of the hill. Using the built up speed, he slowed briefly as he turned into the lot, coasting past the building and parking behind a pair of dumpsters at the rear of the structure.

  Turning on the interior light again, he went through the car, looking in every possible spot, removing any and all records associating the vehicle with his family and their home. As it accumulated, he was surprised how much there was: car registration, insurance, maintenance records, miscellaneous receipts, and even a copy of a return label for an Amazon package. After going through once, he ran through everything again, this time finding none, giving him a much higher sense of confidence that the car wouldn’t be traced to them.

  He placed the Glock behind his back again, then shouldered the shotgun and headed across the parking lot towards the street. Finally out of the car and by himself, Daniel finally realized how truly quiet the night was. The sound of crickets chirping seemed louder than ever, especially with the nearby freeway mostly quiet. Looking in that direction, he saw a few cars weaving their way through the vehicles that had been abandoned there, their headlights swinging back and forth as they made their way north. He wondered if they’d faced similar challenges trying to prepare for the weeks and months ahead or if they’d simply decided to get out of town while they still could. He knew the family needed to get out of town as soon as possible, but he didn’t like the idea of leaving in the dark if they could help it.

  There was also the issue of his fatigue, which was rapidly setting in. It had been an incredibly long day, starting with the neighbor and his wife in their backyard, and less than an hour ago he’d literally been in a car accident that had killed people. He needed rest, and holy cow, he was hungry.

  Stopping at the edge of the parking lot in a spot under a tree, he looked up and down the street to make sure it was devoid of threats. He watched, waiting for several long minutes, not moving a muscle, until he felt confident that he could make it up the hill and back to the house without running into anyone (or anything).

  He stepped onto the sidewalk and headed left, up the hill. The hill was steep, and every step his weary legs took was a chore. Bringing the shotgun down so that he could hold it in his right hand he reached around his back with his left and withdrew the handgun. Muttering to himself, he said, “Fuck it,” before he broke into a slow jog up the hill. ‘Either way, I’ll be tired. At least this way I’ll be done sooner.’

  Daniel trotted his way up the hill, trying to keep his head up so that he could look around. It was tough, since all of his previous experience running up big hills had taught him that looking up the hill was demoralizing. Nevertheless, he managed to keep a good look out as he slowly made his way home.

  As he jogged by the cul-de-sac near the stop sign, he looked over at a house he and his wife had toured before buying the home they lived in now. In the front yard, a family of four were lying dead in the front of the house. The woman, most likely the mother, appeared to have been the aggressor, with blood on her hands, face, and the patterned dress she wore. Now she lay on the sidewalk, staring at the night sky, her chest torn open by a bullet. The children, both preteen boys, lay crumpled in the grass, their faces and necks bloody messes. The man, who Daniel assumed was the father, was sprawled on the steps of the house, the back of his skull missing, thanks to the gun lodged in his mouth. Apparently the loss of his children, combined with the terrible reality of having to kill his wife, had proven to be too much for the man.

  Swallowing, Daniel continued on, trying in vain not to consider what he would have done in the same situation.

  He refused to answer himself as he continued jogging slowly up the last part of the hill, his breath ragged with exertion.

  Finally, he reached their street and turned left, seeing his home just up ahead. Across the street from his house, he saw what looked to be a body in the street, and he wondered how he’d missed it when he’d arrived or left in the car. ‘Too much shit going on, I guess’ he told himself, but shortly after he chided himself for not keeping his guard up. Threats could literally be anywhere.

  Getting closer, he was able to tell the body belonged to the old lady who lived across the street. Her frail body was slumped on the pavement, lying in a sticky mess of blood. Nearby a dog was crumpled in a pile on the curb, dead too, as was the woman’s son, who Daniel saw on the sidewalk leading to the house.

  “Damn!” He whispered to himself, crossing to his side of the street and slowing to a walk to catch his breath. They really needed to get out of town, and quick.

  Climbing the small steps towards his front door, he thought, ‘But first food and rest.’

  When the door opened and Serafina was there in front of him, he nearly broke down in tears. She and the girls were his everything, and they’d been hurt in his absence. He’d failed to protect them, and it had almost cost everything. Knowing the family needed him to be strong, he closed and locked the door before wrapping her in his arms and holding her. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, sweetheart.” He felt her lean into his arms, allowing herself to be held up by him. He held her tighter, wanting never to let go.

  ‘It’s good to be home.”

  “It’s good to have you home.” She pulled back from him, looking at his face. “You’re probably hungry.”

  “Holy crap I am.”

  Serafina smiled as she turned away, leaving him with the girls. “I’ll get things heated real quick. We all waited for you.”

  Brenna was first in his arms. “I was so scared for you, Dad.”

  He gently kissed the bump on her head. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

  She let go of him, stepping aside. “It’s okay. We took care of the bad guy ourselves.”

  Daniel’s eyebrows raised as he looked over at Ashley. “Bad guy?” He held out his arms and she came over and hugged him. While they’d cut down on the hugs since she entered high school, they both needed this one.

  “We’ll tell you later, after you eat.” She said, resting her head on his shoulder as she remained in his arms.

  He looked at the mattresses in the front room and dining room. “We’re sleeping out here?”

  Ashley stepped back, looking at their work. “Yeah. We didn’t feel safe being near the windows, and we thought we should all stay close to each other.”

  Daniel nodded, heading towards the kitchen. “Smart.”

  As he walked into the kitchen, Tommy came over and rubbed against his leg. He kneeled bri
efly and scratched the cat’s head, eliciting a meow and a purr from the cat. “I missed you, too, buddy.” He stood up and reached into the cabinet for a soda. Popping it open, he took a long drink as he watched Serafina cook. “How’s Paul?”

  Stirring the soup, she looked up and smiled at him, warming his heart as she did. “He’s OK. We cleaned it with hydrogen peroxide, then kept gauze on it until it clotted, then wrapped it. He’s showering now.”

  He looked down the hall in the direction of their bedroom. “Dang, a shower sounds amazing.”

  “Go for it. You’re quick. I’ll get this all heated and ready, and by the time you come out, Paul should be done, too, and we can eat.”

  “Twist my arm, then.” Daniel went to the master bedroom and closed the door before stripping down. As sore as he felt, even a task as simple as removing his clothes was a chore. Ursula watched him from the bed, a judgemental look on her face. She’d always been a grumpy cat.

  Walking into the bathroom, he reached into the shower and turned the water on, letting it heat up. As he waited, he looked at himself in the mirror. Somehow, his face had managed to stay relatively clean through everything he’d gone through that day. It was still dirty, though, and his eyes were struggling to stay open. He’d have a hard time making it through dinner.

  He stepped into the shower, loving the rainfall showerhead as it let the steaming hot water fall over him. He soaked in the feeling of the hot water, letting it run over him as he felt his muscles relax. After a few minutes of indulgence, he grabbed the sponge, squeezed some body wash on it, and began cleaning himself from head to toe. Feeling his stomach grumble in protest, he washed his hair, rinsed and got out of the shower.

  Dressed in a fresh set of clothes, he walked back to the kitchen and turned right, forgetting that the dining table had been relocated to the kitchen nook. Turning around, he saw Serafina, Ashley, and Brenna sitting there, smiling. He walked around to the head of the table and sat down. “What? You know I’m easily confused.”

  The women laughed. Serafina reached over and patted his arm. “We know. ‘cause you’re an old fart.” She and the girls laughed again as Daniel shook his head. They loved to tease him about his age, but hey, he’d married a beautiful, intelligent, successful woman who was considerably younger than him, and if that meant he had to take some good natured ribbing once in a while, so be it.

  Paul shuffled into the room, his head wrapped in gauze. A pair of Daniel’s old jeans and one of his obstacle racing finisher t-shirts hung loosely on his thin frame. The bandages pulled his hair away from his face, revealing a forehead riddled with acne. The young man smiled slightly, looking embarrassed. His eyes darted around the table, searching for a place to sit.

  WIthout saying a word, Daniel rose from his chair, stepped over to the young man and embraced him. Paul froze at first, clearly surprised by the gesture, but then returned the embrace.

  “I thought you were gone, kid.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Daniel pulled back, shocked. “Sorry? Why would you be sorry?”

  Paul looked at his feet. “I couldn’t help you when we were being chased.”

  Daniel shook his head. “Listen, that was crazy. There’s no other way to describe it. I would have been shocked if you’d known what to do. Heck, I’m surprised I made it.”

  Serafina cocked her head to the side, her eyes narrowing. “Say what now?”

  “What did you do, anyway?” Paul asked.

  Daniel motioned to the chair at the other end of the table, opposite from where he was sitting. “Why don’t we eat first, then we can all talk about what we’ve been through.”

  The group agreed, all too hungry to argue, no matter how curious they were. One bite into the meal Daniel felt like he was in heaven. Serafina’s cooking was some of the best he’d ever had, and the feast in front of them was no exception. He attacked the food ravenously, using what he jokingly referred to as ‘shovel mode’ to bring the food to his mouth in large quantities.

  Paul seemed a bit confused by the vegetarian food, but was too polite to ask questions, so he cautiously tried a bite of the stir fry dish, unaware that Ashley was watching him. When food came in contact with his tongue, his eyes widened in awe, causing Ashley to laugh out loud.

  Serafina looked across the table at her. “You okay there?”

  Ashley nodded towards Paul, whose mouth was comically stuffed with food, his cheeks bulging like a chipmunk’s. “His face! He was unsure about the food, and when he tasted it, he was like, ‘oh my god!’”

  Feeling relaxed for the first time all day, the young man shrugged and tipped his head from side to side, happily eating. It was enough to make the whole family burst into laughter.

  Serafina shook her head, smiling at him. “Well, I’m glad you like it. Eat up, there’s plenty, but save room for dessert.”

  Daniel pulled back from his second serving of soup. “What??”

  His wife smiled, motioning towards his plate with her chin. “Eat your vegetables.”

  The family happily ate their dinner, making small talk here and there, enjoying the relative safety of their home. It almost seemed normal. When everyone had finished the main course, Serafina looked over at the girls.

  “So what about dessert?”

  Ashley and Brenna stood up from their chairs and walked over to the now empty cabinet, where they’d stashed their surprise. They opened the cabinets and reached in. When they turned back towards the table, Ashley was holding a big plate of chocolate chip cookies and Brenna was holding a big plate of brownies.

  Daniel’s mouth hung open in amazement. After a few seconds, he closed it before saying, “Holy guacamole!”

  Serafina looked over at Paul. “What do you think, Paul?”

  The young man smiled broadly. “Looks awesome.”

  The girls brought over the plates and set them on the table, moving empty dishes aside to make room. Together they enjoyed the dessert, savoring the flavors as they did. Serafina informed Daniel and Paul that the girls had made plenty and had already packed big ziploc bags full of each for the road trip.

  His mouth stuffed full of brownie, Daniel gave his daughters a thumbs up. They rolled their eyes in response. He countered their gesture by opening his mouth, showing its contents, his teeth covered in brown frosting. “What?”

  Ashley grimaced, turning away. “Gross, Dad.”

  Brenna shook her head, giving him a look of disapproval. “Come on, Dad.”

  Serafina took the last bite of her cookie, wiped her mouth, and set her napkin aside. “So, what exactly did you two go through while you were gone? I figured you’d be gone for a couple of hours. You were gone for nearly six.”

  Daniel held up a finger while he finished chewing, then took a drink of water before sitting back in his chair. “Better that I tell you now, before the food coma sets in.” Over the next forty minutes, he told them about everything he and Paul had been through: getting stopped by the rednecks on the way to the sporting goods store, fighting off the infected person in the store (Paul was relieved when Daniel had left out the part about him freezing up), the men out behind the store (Sera and the girls eyes got wide when he told them how he’d shot the man), the old man at Mission Bay park, the party on the hill, and finally, the pursuit by the racists who’d stopped them earlier in the day. Daniel glossed over his maneuver that had sent the truck tumbling, but Paul wanted details.

  “So how did you get away?”

  “I told you, they crashed.”

  “But how? They were right next to us when they shot me.”

  “Well, I may have swerved into them.”

  Paul looked at him, skepticism on his face. “You did that once, it barely affected them.”

  “Alright, fine. I shot the tire out, then hit the back corner of the truck with the Prius. The blown tire made them unstable, and the impact from the Prius gave them the push needed to send them over.”

  Paul’s eyes got wide, as did those of
the women at the table. “So you shot out their tire with the pistol? That’s incredible.”

  “No, the shotgun. Couldn’t aim well under those conditions.”

  He recoiled. “The shotgun? How’d you hold it? That thing looks like it has a major kick.”

  “I let go of the steering wheel for a second.”

  “Damn.”

  Serafina turned to him, a concerned look on her face. “The man at Mission Bay. Are you sure he’s OK?”

  Daniel shook his head. “No, I’m not. Not at all. But he made it clear that if he was going to die, he wanted to die in the land of his people.”

  The table got quiet as the family contemplated the loss of what seemed like a truly good person, as well as his willingness to die, which was hard to comprehend. Daniel noticed tears forming in Brenna’s eyes (she’s always been the most emotional one in the family), and he knew he had to change the subject.

  “Okay, your turn. What happened?”

  Serafina looked away. It still seemed like a nightmare. She felt reluctant to talk about it, but thought that doing so would actually be therapeutic. After all, they’d successfully defended themselves and the home. In a life or death situation, they’d survived. Taking a deep breath, she began.

  “I was just starting to make dinner….” She told Daniel and Paul what had happened when the man had shown up, how he’d broken in, and how they’d fought him off, killing him. As she talked, she saw Daniel getting more and more upset, and she knew he felt powerless at that moment. He wanted to always be there, to always protect them. But this time, they’d protected themselves, and Serafina stressed that to him. She reached out and grabbed Daniel’s wrist, looking into his eyes. “We beat him.” She looked at the girls on the other side of the table, her eyes moistening as she did so. “Together, we did what we had to do to survive. I’m proud of these girls.”