Exodus

by Paul Antony Jones

  Thor was intent on following scent trails, tail wagging as he moved in and out of the trees and then dodged back to follow another. Occasionally, he stopped and lifted his leg against the trunk of a tree or a bush and marked his territory.

  The path continued into the trees for several hundred feet, winding left and right, occasionally forking off from the main route. Emily stuck with the original path. She was sure the sparkle of water she had seen when she’d arrived had been more toward the center of the woods, and this path seemed to be heading in that direction.

  A few minutes later, she heard the unmistakable sound of sloshing water, and, as she rounded a bend obscured by a growth of thick black cohosh atop an embankment, Emily saw the pond. It was fed by a stream that ran down from the opposite side of the valley, its source unknown as it disappeared between the trees. At the sight of the water, Thor gave a joyful, deep bark and took off in its direction. Launching himself from the embankment, he landed with a splash that sent a wave of water high into the air.

  A flurry of shapes exploded into the air amid a panicked flapping of wings and quacking. It was ducks, four of them; they launched themselves into the air and took off flapping toward a clump of tall reeds at the opposite end of the pond, their wings clipping the surface of the water. Thor made a halfhearted attempt at grabbing them, missed, and continued to paddle his way around the pond unmoved by the astonishing sight.

  “Ducks!” Emily shouted. “Fucking ducks.”

  Apart from Thor, these were the first earth animals Emily had seen since disaster struck. How had they survived? Were they immune like her and Thor? Emily followed the dog down to the pond’s bank. Thor, who had paddled out to the center of the pond, now turned back, making a beeline for her.

  “Oh no you don’t,” yelped Emily. She could see the mischievous glint in the dog’s eyes as he headed back to her. She immediately started backpedaling away from the pond’s edge, but she wasn’t quick enough. Thor pulled himself out of the water, ran the last few feet to her side and immediately began shaking himself dry, sending a huge shower of water over Emily.

  “Oh! Oh! Oh!” was all she could manage as the freezing water covered her. “Damn dog. You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Thor answered with another shake that sent more water her way. Dear God, it was cold. So much for the idea of taking a dip. She’d freeze to death before the water got as far as her knees.

  “I swear, Thor. If you weren’t the world’s last remaining dog, I’d trade you in.” The threat didn’t seem to cause Thor much concern as he gave a final shake.

  Emily brushed as much of the water as she could from herself and looked around. She could see there were several well-walked paths that snaked deeper into the trees. Well, with the early morning bath off the itinerary, she might as well take a look at the other homes she’d seen.

  She took a second to orient herself, called to Thor, who had disappeared into a large bush, and headed down the path leading in the direction of where she thought the houses should be.

  The earthen path led deeper into the woods. When Emily came to the next fork, she took the one leading up the hill. She couldn’t see the houses through the trees, but, judging by the gradual incline, she was heading in the right direction at least. The path branched off again a few hundred feet farther along, and, sure enough, Emily spotted the first of the two houses in the distance.

  It was the smallest of the three in the valley: single story, with two bedrooms, a living area, and a bare-bones kitchen, more like an apartment than a permanent residence. Emily wondered, given the lack of any kind of road or garage for a vehicle, whether it might be a guesthouse for the other home higher up on the ridge.

  Other than a few pieces of crockery, the cupboards were empty. A small refrigerator sat against one wall in the kitchen. Emily had pretty quickly learned that opening up the refrigerators she inevitably found in the homes she spent the night in was a bad idea. The food was often spoiled and stank to high heaven after more than a week of no electricity. Delving around in decomposing lettuce and rancid milk looking for something edible was usually not worth the effort or the assault on her nostrils. She pulled the door on the minifridge anyway; there was nothing but a couple of ice-cube trays inside. Emily was about to check the bedrooms when Thor started barking outside.

  It wasn’t an aggressive bark, but something had definitely gotten his attention. Maybe the ducks had followed them up the path? She made her way back to the front door and looked out. Thor was standing on the path facing up the hill; his tail was wagging frantically, and he kept stealing glances back at Emily before snapping his head back to whatever had piqued his interest.

  “What is wrong with you?” she called as she stepped outside. “There aren’t any—”

  Emily stopped midsentence. Standing just a few yards away, frozen to the spot by Thor’s barking, was a terrified young girl.

  The kid didn’t stay frozen long—and she could move. Ten, maybe eleven. Tall for her age, wide blue eyes, skinny, in cutoff blue jeans that terminated in tattered threads just above her scuffed knees, muddy sneakers, and a blouse. Her eyes flicked between Thor and Emily as if she was trying to decide which of them to be more afraid of.

  “No! Wait!” Emily yelled.

  But she was already outpacing Emily, dodging between the trees and leaping over rocks and outcrops. She obviously knew the area like the back of her hand. If not for Thor, the kid would have lost Emily in the first thirty seconds. As it was, she could barely keep Thor in sight as he loped after the girl.

  The roof of the third house appeared above a thick hedge just as the path leveled off and switched from dirt to a concrete slab driveway. Emily was just in time to see the girl, long blonde hair streaming out behind her, dart around the corner of the house. Thor followed her a few seconds later.

  “Goddamn it, Thor,” Emily yelled between panting breaths. “Stop, you’re scaring her.”

  Emily sprinted the remaining fifty feet to the same corner, working out how she was going to approach the kid to convince her she wasn’t a threat. As she rounded the corner of the house, Emily almost tripped over Thor, his body rigid, his ears down, and his teeth bared in a low growl as he stared at the doorway.

  Emily looked up from her dog. Standing in the open entrance was the little girl; next to her was a man with a pistol aimed directly at Thor’s head.

  “Stop!” Emily screamed.

  Thor raised himself from his crouch and let out a low growl. The man pulled the girl closer to him and his finger began to tighten on the trigger.

  “No,” Emily yelled. “He won’t hurt you…Thor! Come here. Come on, come here.” The dog didn’t budge, so Emily took a tentative step closer to him, her hands raised to shoulder height, palms out. “We aren’t here to hurt anybody.” She spoke as softly as she could, fighting the urge to yell at the man that if he didn’t point the pistol away from her dog she was going to take it from him and shove it so far up—

  “Who are you?” the man said, nervously waving the gun. The words were directed at Emily, but his eyes never left Thor. “Where the hell did you come from?” Emily noticed the girl glance quickly up at the man, a look of fear in her eyes.

  “Dad…” she whimpered.

  Okay, okay. So now she knew what she was dealing with: a father frightened for his daughter and his own safety. She could understand that. Just have to keep them—and Thor—calm, she thought.

  The girl’s father glanced down at his daughter. “It’s all okay, kiddo,” he said reassuringly, squeezing his daughter’s shoulder. Then his focus snapped back to Emily and Thor. “I won’t ask again. Who are you?”

  “My name is Emily Baxter. This is my dog, Thor. We aren’t here to hurt you. I didn’t know anybody was alive here,” she explained, then added, “I didn’t know anybody was alive anywhere.”

  When he next spoke, Emily thought the man’s demeanor might have softened a little. “Are you with an agency?” he asked, the edge of panic almost go
ne from his voice, replaced now with a tone of inquisitiveness.

  “I’m sorry? Agency?” Emily was confused, but she took advantage of the moment to edge a little closer toward Thor. The malamute was still crouched low, but at least he had stopped growling.

  “You’re with the government, right? Part of a rescue team. So, which agency are you with?”

  Before Emily could say anything further, something exploded from the shadows of the doorway behind the father and daughter and headed straight for the dog.

  Emily wasn’t sure who was more surprised: the man, herself, or Thor, who now sat bolt upright as the little shape covered the ground in small stumbling steps.

  It was a little boy, no more than four or five, and he was running as fast as his legs could carry him straight at Thor, a smile of absolute delight plastered across his face.

  “Doggy!” the little boy yelled as he barely avoided colliding with the dog. He threw his arms around Thor’s neck and declared again in a singsong voice, “Doggy!”

  “Ben!” the man yelled, the pistol dropping to his side as panic gripped his throat. He was either too stunned to react or he was still concerned about protecting his daughter because he gave a single tentative step forward, glanced down at the girl who still clung to his waist, and froze in place, half-in, half-out of the doorway to the house.

  Emily took advantage of the man’s hesitancy and covered the remaining distance between herself and Thor in two quick steps. She saw the man’s eyes go wide as she stood next to his boy and placed a reassuring hand gently on the top of the kid’s head. They went wider still when he saw the shotgun slung over her shoulder.

  The child—Ben, she reminded herself—didn’t seem the least bit interested in her; he had his arms locked around Thor’s neck, his face buried deep into his ruff, whispering “doggy” over and over into the malamute’s ear.

  Emily raised her hands again, trying to look as unthreatening as possible. “Look, I didn’t know anyone was here. You’re the first people I’ve seen since leaving Manhattan, and I swear to you we are absolutely no danger to you or your family. I promise.”

  “Is there anyone else with you?” the man asked.

  “No,” she answered. “Just me and Thor. And, as you can see, neither of us is a threat to you.” The pistol, Emily noticed, stayed at the man’s side as he spoke, and she thought she saw a slight relaxing of his posture. Even Thor seemed to have relaxed. He was busy licking the boy’s face, which elicited a mass of giggles from the kid.

  Emily could see the stranger’s mind working through the situation. He looked to each of his children and then to her. Finally his eyes settled back on the little boy, who was still giggling joyfully as Thor continued to wash him.

  He slipped the pistol into his waistband and stepped toward Emily, holding out a hand. Thor stopped slobbering over the child, his eyes tracking the stranger as he approached Emily but making no move.

  “My name’s Simon,” he said as Emily took the proffered hand and shook it. “That’s my daughter, Rhiannon, and your dog’s newfound best friend is Benjamin.”

  “I’m Emily. This is Thor,” she replied with a sigh of relief.

  “Pleased to meet you both, and I’m sorry for the reception. It’s just that we haven’t seen anyone for more than a week now. I saw your dog chasing Rhia and just panicked. We’re just glad this nightmare is finally over. We were wondering how long it would be before emergency services got to the area.”

  “Emergency services? I’m sorry—you think I’m with the government?”

  Simon nodded. “Of course. I mean, I know things must be bad out there, what with the terrorist attack and all, but we knew it was only going to be a matter of time before someone found us. That’s why we’ve stayed put.” He turned sideways and gestured down the corridor to the interior of the house. “Come on in and make yourself at home. Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Something stronger?”

  “I…I’m…” Emily was a hairbreadth away from telling him that she wasn’t part of any rescue party and that there was zero chance of one ever showing up, but she held the words back when she looked at Rhiannon’s face. The kid was obviously as relieved as her father. Now was not the time to break the news that they were the only survivors she had encountered since leaving Manhattan. That could wait until she and Simon were alone. He would be better equipped to break the news to his kids, rather than having them hear it blurted out from a stranger.

  “I’ll take a cup of coffee,” she said instead, stepping past the man and into his home.

  Emily waited in the entryway for Simon and the children to join her.

  He looked to be somewhere in his late thirties, dark-brown hair, athletic build, dressed casually in jeans and a polo shirt. All sense of threat had gone from him now, and Emily wondered whether he would really have been able to use the pistol on either Thor or her.

  The children stayed close to their dad. She couldn’t blame them, of course. She was a complete stranger who had just chased the girl through the woods with what must have appeared, at least to anyone who didn’t know him, to be a bloodthirsty hound.

  “Come on in.” Simon gestured for her to follow him as he closed the front door behind him and made his way down the entrance corridor.

  In the confines of the narrow corridor, Emily became acutely aware of just how bad she smelled. Sweat, dirt, and an underlying aroma of lemon baby wipes. Social anxiety was not something she’d thought she’d ever have to worry about again.

  She was amazed at just how incredibly clean and tidy the house was. How very normal it all seemed. From somewhere deeper in the house, Emily could hear the sound of music playing, and it took her a few seconds to realize what that potentially meant.

  “You have power here?” she asked.

  “Yup,” said Simon as he led her into the kitchen area. “Totally self-sufficient. We have a backup generator that we use to power the house, and we’re on our own well and septic system.”

  “You have running water?” she asked, amazed.

  Simon looked at her, his face betraying his puzzlement. “Suuuurre. Running water. Hot water, too. We’ve got a propane tank outside, but I’ve tried not to use it too much because we only have enough propane for six weeks, a bit longer if we really ration it. I hoped help would arrive before it ran out.”

  She tried not to allow her astonishment to show.

  “We were about to grab some lunch. Would you like to join us?”

  “I’d love to,” Emily answered with a smile. “But do you think I could freshen up first? I’ve been on the road for a few days.”

  “Of course. Of course. Rhia. Why don’t you show Emily where the guest bedroom is?”

  Thor was still happily engaged with Benjamin. The dog seemed to have settled in quite happily to being the center of the little boy’s attention; he was lying on his side in front of a large potted fern while the boy playfully rubbed his tummy and head. The kid hadn’t even made eye contact with Emily since they’d arrived; he was totally besotted with the dog. Kids! How very simple life was for them.

  “You’re very smelly,” said the little girl, wrinkling her nose as she took Emily’s hand and started to lead her from the living room toward a staircase at the back of the house.

  “Jeez, Rhiannon,” sighed her father. “At least try to be polite, would you, darling?”

  “But she is,” insisted the little girl.

  “I’m sorry, Emily,” Simon apologized. “My daughter is a little forthright.”

  Emily smiled and gave a polite laugh. “It’s okay. She’s right, I’m sure. I’ve been on the road for days.” She knew she smelled worse than month-old milk.

  “Come on,” said Rhiannon, apparently unmoved by her father’s embarrassment. “The guest room’s this way.”

  Emily was pretty much convinced that she had died and gone to heaven. Either that or she was going to wake up on some strange couch again, extremely disappointed.

  That was
the only explanation for just how good she felt as the hot water of the shower beat against her skin, washing away the accumulated grunge and dirt of her exodus.

  Emily pushed the many questions fighting for her attention about how this little oasis had survived the red rain from her mind, luxuriating instead in the delightful feeling of warmth that enveloped her. Within a few minutes, she felt the pain and fear slough away from her as she soaked in the wonder of simply still existing.

  When she was done, she toweled herself dry and dressed in the fresh blouse and jeans she had set on the bed. The blouse was wrinkled from her hurried packing, but she didn’t think her hosts would mind too much.

  Emily realized her mouth was watering even before the smell of roasting meat wafting in under the door registered in her mind. Fastening the last few buttons on her blouse, she slipped her feet into her shoes and headed in the direction of the glorious scent.

  “Better?” asked Simon as Emily walked into the kitchen.

  “Much. Thank you,” Emily replied. And she really did mean it. But it wasn’t just the shower and the smell of hot food that had lifted her spirits. It was being around people again. She hadn’t realized how lonely she had become these past few days.

  Thor padded over to Emily, his tail wagging enthusiastically but dipped a little as if he realized he had abandoned his mistress to the first person willing to show him any attention.

  The two kids, Ben and Rhia, were sitting around a table set for four in the breakfast nook just off the kitchen. Rhiannon looked up and smiled at her, but the little boy kept his eyes fixed on the plate in front of him, his hands clasped around a knife and fork in readiness.