by Caryl McAdoo
McKenzie sat at the kitchen table reading a book. She looked up. “Hey.”
“You’re back early.”
“I know.” She sighed. “They sent home those of us who bothered to come. At least they’ll know I was there when all the lights come back on.”
Coop plopped in his regular chair to her left. “Really? Did anyone there know anything about the electricity?”
“No, only a few teachers showed up. They all had plenty of ideas, but no one knew what’s happened for sure.”
“I think it’s the aliens, don’t you?”
Jackson nodded. “Could be you’re right, Bubba.”
“Jackson, really? Don’t encourage him.”
“Whatever. You have any better ideas? Anyway…I’ve been thinking and figure we should probably get some water put up.”
“What for? The faucet still works.”
“Yeah, for now. But only because there’s still water in the tower. Once that’s gone…it takes electricity to pump more up there, so the faucets will go dry.”
McKenzie gave him her yeah-right look, but didn’t verbally oppose his plan. “So what are we going to use?”
“Why don’t you and Cooper go get whatever empty jugs or bottles you can find in the recycle bins? I’ll look around here and start filling what I can come up with.”
After they both returned with arms full of two-liter soda bottles, some milk jugs, and a few of the regular smaller water bottles, he got busy washing then filled them back up. For the rest of the morning, he kept them busy hunting for more containers. “Don’t get any without lids or the jugs with clabbered milk either. And y’all stay together.”
He hoped he had them on a fools’ errand, but the longer the power stayed off and the cars and trucks sat lifeless in the streets, the more it seemed like the smart thing to do. With each bottle he filled, concern for his mother grew. Did she have something to drink? If whatever had happened here affected downtown Dallas, too, she might be in trouble.
Hopefully, she’d made it to Rockwall.
The back door flew open. He looked up with expectations of seeing her, but Cooper held out a single two-liter bottle. “I could only find this one. McKenzie doesn’t have any.”
She rolled her eyes. “I think the neighbors saw us and started grabbing them, too.”
Jackson glanced at the row of water-filled plastic containers lined against the wall and wished there were twice as many. “Guess that’ll have to do then.”
McKenzie stepped into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, looking around. “We’re hungry. How about we fix some lunch?”
“Okay, sure, but don’t stand there holding the door open. You’re letting the cold out.”
She shut it. “More like the heat in, but you’re still right.”
“Wow. Coop, did you hear her? It’s a miracle.”
“Hey, don’t be snarky. On the rare occasions when you’re right, I don’t begrudge you.”
He opened the freezer. The ice trays held mostly ice, but the melting cubes already swam in water. He took off the lid on the ice cream and checked it, pretty soft. After fried baloney sandwiches, a pile of grapes, and milkshakes, he decided to move everything he could to the freezer side of the refrigerator.
He let Cooper talk him into a game of chess, but had trouble concentrating. The little booger trapped his queen. Five moves later, he laid his king over.
“You win; you’re a nine-year-old genius.”
“Want another? I’ll play with only half my brain.”
Jackson closed his eyes and rubbed his brow. Something lurked at the edge of his mind, but he couldn’t quite put a finger to it. He looked up. “Maybe later, Bubba.” Then it dawned on him. Later meant dark—really dark—if the lights didn’t come back on.
“McKenzie?”
She glanced up from her book. “No, thanks; I don’t want to play.”
“Do you know where Mom keeps the candles?”
“Sure don’t.”
“Well, get up and help us look. We better find them before dark, or we’re not going to be able to see anything.”
He hated rifling through his mother’s stuff, especially her girly-girl drawers, but that’s where he found the candles in a big zip-lock bag with extra matches. Her being out there by herself continued to gnaw his gut. He got why his father served, he did, but still hated all of his dad’s overseas deployments.
Sure seemed like after being a Marine for sixteen years, he’d have enough seniority to get a job closer to home.
The evening seemed to drag on forever. At first, he let them burn four candles, enough light for McKenzie to read by, but at the rate they melted, he decided to cut it back to one. When that burned down short, he wouldn’t let them light another. Cooper, always the first down and first up in the morning, drifted off on the couch.
His sister sat in the loveseat, now only a dark shadow. “What about Mom? Think she’s alright?”
Jackson nodded, not that she could see him. “I’m sure she’s fine. She’s resourceful and plenty smart. Probably found somewhere to get inside between downtown and Rockwall and right now is trying to go to sleep worrying about us. She’ll be home tomorrow.” He had no intention of letting his sister know that he was worried sick about her.
“You’re lying; I can hear it in your voice. I’m praying for her to get home.”
“Whatever. Go to bed.”
“Can I have a candle and some matches?”
“What for?”
“Duh. So I can see where I’m going.”
She had such an attitude sometimes, and he got so tired of it; mother always called it the middle-child syndrome. “Okay, but put it out as soon as you’re in bed. No more reading.”
“Fine.” She reached out and patted the coffee table until she found both candle and matches. “But, Jackson? Just to be perfectly clear. You are not the boss of me. I’m almost as old as you and way more mature, and you know it.”
“McKenzie, go to bed.”
She struck a match and lit her candle, glaring at him with that smart-alecky expression of hers. “I am, but not because you told me to.” She covered Cooper with a throw then turned and padded barefoot down the hall. “I’m sleeping in Mom’s room.”
He sighed and waited at his door until she snuffed out the candle then groped his way to bed where he tossed and turned for what seemed like hours. Sleep eluded him. He couldn’t stop thinking about his mother.
Why hadn’t she come home?
Racking his brain on what he was going to do if she didn’t, he stared into the darkness. He wanted to go look for her, but knew it was more important to stay with McKenzie and Cooper.
They were his responsibility now.
The last thing he wanted was to drag those two around anywhere. But if Mom didn’t come home soon, he’d have to do something. With each option, he ran the what-ifs as many moves forward as he could, just like in a chess game or something, but every scenario always seemed to end in checkmate.
A scream woke him.
Heart racing, he jumped up and found the door. His hand wiped the wall until he found the light switch. He flipped it, but it still didn’t work. He stood perfectly still, holding his breath. Though straining hard to listen, he couldn’t hear anything else.
Adrenalin outmaneuvered his sleep fog, and after getting his bearings, he realized the scream had at least come from outside the apartment.
The booming in his chest slowed. He swallowed and felt his way into the living room where he found a candle and matches then lit it. His little brother still slept curled on the couch. He checked to make sure the deadbolt was locked then made his way to his mother’s room and eased the door open.
The lump in the bed made the little sounds that usually drove him crazy, but on this night, reassured him.
Had he really even heard someone scream? Could it have been a dream? He felt the wall back to his room, but never could get back to sleep. At the first bit of light brightening
the day, he rolled out again and went to the living room window. Sitting next to it, he watched his neighborhood come alive again.
The second day proved harder. The water stopped running mid-morning; then before the macaroni cooked soft enough, the gas stove sputtered out. He covered the pan and let it sit a while, then strained it and added extra butter and milk since it would spoil soon anyway. McKenzie cut up some smoked sausage to go in the mac-and-cheese.
Turned out to be a pretty good lunch.
The last bit of light faded that evening with no sign of his mother. Keeping quiet about it, Jackson refused to give voice to his fears, but it sure seemed to him that something must have happened to her.
Thinking about it soured his stomach. He made himself not dwell on it. No doubt, she should be home by then though.
Walking the fifteen or twenty miles from downtown Dallas to Irving shouldn’t take her that long. The summer before seventh-grade football, he and his father jogged ten miles early every morning. Dad had told him the military considered three miles an hour a forced march. Even at two, she could have been home the first evening.
A whole extra day had gone by.
The second night, another scream—this time followed by a gunshot—woke him. He jumped out of bed and eased to his window, but couldn’t see anything but blackness.
“Jackson? That you at the window?” Her voice sounded scared.
He turned around. A McKenzie-sized shadow stood in his doorway. “Yeah, go back to bed.”
“Was that a gunshot?”
He sighed. “Yeah, but it was pretty far away.” He didn’t like lying to her but –
“Can I stay in here with y’all?”
“Sure; get in bed with Coop.”
With no more gunshots or screams that night, Jackson managed to doze, but woke again before the sun rose on day three. Soon as it was light enough outside and folks started moving about, he left his siblings sleeping and slipped out. The old man with the windup watch sat in a lawn chair outside his ground floor apartment.
With a hot dog swaying on the end of a straightened coat hanger, he roasted his breakfast over a small fire.
“Good morning, sir.”
The old guy glanced up then back to his wiener. “Morning, son.”
“Any news?”
He shrugged. “Guy three buildings down got shot dead last night over a bottle of hooch.” He pulled back his jacket revealing a holstered pistol. “Best arm yourself if your dad left any guns in the place. Things are getting bad.”
Jackson nodded. “Yes, sir, good idea.”
The old man pulled the hotdog back and looked it over. “Your mother get home?”
“No, sir. Not yet.”
“Guy I know says the grocery stores are all empty, pharmacies, too. Fires are burning all over the place. If I was young like you and had any place to go, I’d get far away from here before the crazies go totally bonkers. It’s only going to get worse.”
Jackson didn’t know what to say. Seemed to him the old man was right, but where could he go? After another guy wandered up, he headed back upstairs and pulled out the little grill Mom kept in the hall closet.
Filling it with charcoal, he stepped out the back door then lit it up. The complex had rules about cooking on the balconies, but he didn’t care. What were they going to do? Kick him out? Besides, he wasn’t too eager to be out in the yard with his food, and all the meat in the refrigerator needed to be cooked before it spoiled.
That evening after he wasted a gallon of water trying to flush the toilet that refused to be flushed, he decided to heed the old man’s advice.
CHAPTER TWO
Mid-morning of the fourth day, Jackson unfolded the map he’d found in his mother’s room and spread it out on the coffee table. Real quick, he ruled out traveling by the highways or through any heavily populated areas. Had to find a way east and north passing through the least number of people.
McKenzie and Cooper, who had been playing cards, wandered in. Coop flopped on the couch. His sister stood at the table’s end and stared.
“What’s with the map?”
He looked at her for a minute then shrugged. Dad always said if you had something hard to do, sooner was always better than later. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
“We cannot go anywhere, Jackson, not until mother gets home.”
“Kenzie, it’s been four days. She wouldn’t want us to stay. Not the way it is. Not with what’s going on here.”
She glanced at Cooper then back to him. “You don’t know that. And exactly where were you planning on going?”
He resisted the urge to debate exactly what his mother would or wouldn’t want. Neither did he intend to speculate on what had happened to her. “Meems’ and Pop’s.”
“Get real, Jackson. That’s like a million miles away. How do you think…what are you…?”
“It’s only a little more than a hundred to be more specific. I’m figuring we can make it there in two weeks.”
Shaking her head real slow, she pursed her lips and wrinkled her nose. He hated those smirky expressions, and his sister was without a doubt the master of smirk. She sank into the oversized chair she counted her own. “No. Way. You’re crazy to think we can make it in two weeks. We need to stay put. Mom will get here soon, and she’ll know what to do.”
“No, Sis. We can’t wait any longer. We’ve got to go.”
She closed her eyes and worked her jaw, gritting her teeth. “We have to stay. If we leave –” She opened her eyes and sat forward. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “We may never see our mother again.”
He hated hearing her say what he’d been thinking, but the tough decisions fell squarely on his shoulders now. The oldest, he was responsible for them.
“We don’t know that. But what I do know is that we cannot stay here. The goons are getting worse by the day, and there’s no law, McKenzie. It’s my job—in Mom and Dad’s absence—to keep you and Cooper safe. You know that’s true. You’ve heard them say it. I’m in charge.”
She looked toward Cooper who listened, wide-eyed, to the altercation. The tears still ran down her cheeks. “Please. Let’s wait another day or two, give her a chance. The lights could come back on any minute now.”
“Think about it. It isn’t just the electricity. The cars. The phones. Nothing is working. Have you looked around, McKenzie? There’s smoke everywhere because looters and the crazy people are burning everything down, just because they can. The old man said the grocery stores are empty.”
“But…”
“No buts. We’ve got to get to Meems’ and Pop’s. We can’t stay here. We’re leaving tonight soon as it’s dark.”
She wiped one cheek and crossed her arms over her chest. “Let’s vote on it. I vote stay.” She looked to Cooper. “What about you, Bubba? How do you vote?”
“I’m with Jackson. It stinks here, Sisser. I want to go to Meems’ and Pop’s.”
She slapped the chair’s arms. “Oh, you two! It isn’t fair! You boys always stick together.”
“Okay, then. It’s settled. We leave as soon as it’s dark.” He picked up the map and worked it until the folds fit back perfectly. “Backpacks only. No more than one change of clothes. Pack mostly food, and leave room for a water bottle, too.”
McKenzie drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She hugged herself into the smallest ball possible that it seemed she could. If only Dad were there. He’d know exactly what to say to her. Jackson never figured out how, but some way or another his father could always get through to her.
But an ocean away, he was no help. Jackson mostly wanted to slap her all the time.
Was Dad even alive? Or either of his parents? Would he ever know?
He scooted to the end of the couch and put his hand on her forearm. “I’m sorry, McKenzie. I am, and I love you.”
She nodded. “I love you, too, you big lug.” She looked into his eyes. “Jackson, have you thought that it might be Arma
geddon? The end of the age?”
“No way. And don’t start that stuff. We’ve got to stick together.”
“I know, and we will, but I don’t like it. I think we should wait, and I’m praying for God to tell you that.”
“Well, I hope you don’t hold your breath. The food is running out. The water won’t last another day. The toilet quit flushing. And there’s been two murders right here on Tudor Lane that I know of. We can’t wait any longer.”
She unfolded her arms and put her feet back on the floor. “Can I at least leave her a note?”
“Of course. Tell her where we’re headed and when we left.”
She made a face at him like she knew all that. “Really?”
The last bit of daylight silhouetted the tree tops; Jackson sat by the window watching. With the time to go almost there, he really didn’t want to leave either. But no matter how he tried, he could not come up with a better plan. Way he saw it, his options had all run out. If he stayed, they would all be dead—or worse.
Once the autumn day finally died, he slipped out the back door. He closed his eyes and listened for a moment. An eerie quietness hung on the still, cool fall air. He whistled softly. McKenzie eased out holding Cooper’s hand. Each carried a loaded backpack. Jackson led them quietly down the stairs, one step at a time.
He walked straight to the wall, hugging it with his full length, giving his eyes time to adjust if they would. He might as well keep them closed. The darkness was blacker than black. Before stepping into the four-plex’s small courtyard, he stopped and peeked around its corner. A bonfire raged a couple of blocks down on his right. Several folks milled around it.
The useless cars and trucks blocked a good view. He scanned the sky but couldn’t make out anything. Either there was no moon yet, or it was sufficiently overcast to hide it. He hoped it wouldn’t rain before he could get them to shelter, but then they could probably find an abandoned car to stay dry in.
Would the rain be radioactive? He’d heard something about that somewhere; in science or maybe on The Discovery Channel. Should have listened more closely, but then again, he had no idea if it really was a nuke that caused the flash and turned his world upside down.