Breakdown: Season One

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Breakdown: Season One Page 14

by Jordon Quattlebaum


  “They hopped into a red pickup. Couldn’t judge the model. Too dark,” Leon reported.

  The two men at the gate looked over to John for leadership.

  “Well, boss?” Jeff asked.

  “Wait five minutes. We’re going to search the area to make sure there aren’t any more out there before we approach. We bring him in alive if we can.”

  “John, you know if he’s alive, Talia’s going to want to keep him that way.”

  John nodded. “I’m counting on it.”

  Chapter 7 – Miles and Miles of Sloppy Joe

  Sephi and Anna weren’t prepared for what they saw when they opened the door to the dry goods storage room in the elementary school kitchen. Sephi quickly closed the door just in time for a large, number ten-sized can of peaches to slam against it.

  “Stay away from us! I’m warning you!” shouted a woman from inside.

  Anna looked at Sephi, and the two shared a quizzical glance. Anna shrugged but gave it her best shot.

  “Uhh…we aren’t going to hurt you, lady. We just need to get that food some place safe before worse folks than us come and take it. Does that make sense?”

  Silence.

  Sephi rolled her eyes, whether at Anna’s attempt at negotiation or at the situation in general, Anna couldn’t be sure.

  A long moment later, the door cracked open, and the woman peeked out.

  “You’re not here to hurt us?”

  The girls laughed. “Listen, lady, we’re just a couple of stranded college kids trying to plan a couple of steps ahead. You doing all right?”

  “Yeah, we’re doing all right. I’m going to come out now. Do me a favor and take a few steps back. Don’t try anything funny, okay?” the woman said.

  Anna mouthed the word We? questioningly to Sephi, who shrugged her shoulders. They both took a handful of steps backwards.

  The door slowly creaked open, and a beautiful but exhausted-looking middle-aged woman crept out. Her hair was a mess, and a furrow creased the brow of her otherwise smooth face. Her stare was intense, and after a moment, Anna had to smile.

  “What are you laughing at?” the woman wondered.

  “My mother was a teacher. I know that look. You’re giving us your ‘teacher look,’ aren’t you?”

  The woman smiled, and the furrowed brow disappeared.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve been at this job long enough that it just happens,” she said, running her fingers through her thick, auburn hair. “When you’re young you learn to ‘turn it on’ when you need it. When you get to be my age, it just happens.” She extended a filthy hand toward Anna. “My name’s Ms. Grimes. Carla. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Anna took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Carla. I’m Anna Monroe, and this is Josephina Lee.”

  “People call me Sephi,” she said with a soft smile.

  “It’s good to meet both of you. I was worried you were looters.”

  The girls laughed. “About that…” Anna started.

  Carla chuckled. “Of course,” she said, dismissing the thought with a wave of her hand. “You’re just not the sort of looters I imagined. Thankfully.”

  “Carla, what are you still doing here? It’s been over 24 hours since whatever happened happened. Can’t you just…go home?”

  “I came down here when I heard the shooting earlier. Anna, I’m sure you remember how seriously your own mother took her teaching position. We really love our kids. I’m sure she did too, right?”

  Anna nodded. “Yeah, when I was little I’d get jealous sometimes. She’d bring in granola bars, toothbrushes…all sorts of things. It wasn’t until I got older that I realized that the kids she was helping didn’t have a home environment like mine. I got it then.”

  Carla nodded. “Girls, you can come out now. It’s safe.”

  A moment later, twin girls stepped out of the storage room holding hands. They looked to be about six or seven years old, and their dirty faces were streaked with tear stains.

  “This is Emily,” she said, pointing to the girl with the blue ribbon tying back her hair. “And this is her sister, Molly. Girls, these ladies are Anna and Sephi. Say hello.”

  They mumbled their hushed greetings and ducked back behind Carla.

  Carla took a moment to explain that these were two of her first grade students and that they were waiting on their mom and dad to come and pick them up from school.

  “Ladies, what in the world is going on out there? The power is out, and the phones aren’t working. Most of the parents live in the neighborhood and were able to walk their children home. The other teachers left last night; most of them had families to get home to. This morning we went to get a drink from the bathroom faucets, and nothing came out.”

  Anna frowned. “It’s like this all over town. Cars are toast, too. Only the really old ones are working for some reason. I’m not sure how far spread it is, or how long it’s going to last, but I think we might have been hit with a really severe solar storm. I’m really not an expert, so I can’t give you exact details on how it works, but that’s what I think has happened.”

  Carla nodded but still looked confused. “When will help get here?” she asked.

  “Listen, I want to help you guys, but we really need to start loading up the truck. Can we talk as we load?”

  Carla nodded.

  Anna walked Carla and the girls outside to meet Matt. His jaw hit the floor, but after some introductions he quickly recovered and began to play with the girls. He seemed to have a way with kids, and there was a lot of laughter within a very short time.

  “Girls,” Carla said, “go start grabbing cans of food. Just carry the big ones one at a time. Be very careful not to drop them.”

  The six of them started loading flour, pasta, rice, beans, and canned food into the truck. Fresh produce was loaded in last, along with some boxes of single ply toilet paper Ms. Grimes liberated from the janitor supply closet.

  “It won’t last forever, but it’ll make things a little more polite in the short term,” she said.

  Eventually the truck was loaded, and it was time for a big decision to be made.

  “Carla. You know you and the girls are welcome to come and stay with us while we wait for all of this to blow over. The girls seem like a lot of fun, and it would be nice to have an actual adult around.” Anna took a moment and looked from Matt to Sephi, and then back to Carla. “It would make us all feel a lot safer.”

  Carla smiled and turned to the twins. “What do you think, girls? Would it be all right if we stayed with these people for a little while? It’ll be more comfortable than sleeping in the classroom.”

  Emily and Molly looked at one another, smiles on their faces, and nodded. After a moment, though, Molly’s smile faded, and she asked, “Ms. Grimes, what if our Mom or Dad come to pick us up?”

  Carla knelt down and put her hand on Molly’s shoulder. “That’s a really smart thing to think about, Molly. What do you think we should do?”

  Molly turned to Emily and there were some hushed whispers between the sisters.

  While they talked, Carla spoke to Anna and the others.

  “Their parents were on a business trip together in Chicago. They were scheduled to land an hour or so after the power went out.”

  Anna’s heart sank for the girls, knowing their parents probably wouldn’t be coming back.

  Finally, after a long, heated discussion, Molly turned back to her teacher, her blue eyes filled with earnestness as she spoke.

  “Emily and I think that we should leave them a note. That way they know where to find us when they get here.”

  “I think that’s an excellent idea, girls.”

  The six of them went down the hall to t
he kitchen manager’s office and grabbed a notebook and pen, and, with Matt’s help, the twins wrote a letter to their parents and taped it to the classroom door.

  The whole ordeal took longer than the twenty minutes Matt had initially allotted, but they did end up filling the bed of the truck, leaving just enough room for one of the adults to ride in the bed while everyone else squeezed into the tightly-packed truck cab. Emily and Molly sat on the laps of Sephi and Anna. The tight quarters made shifting a bit tricky for Matt, but eventually they arrived back at the house and pulled safely into the garage.

  Red, Trinity, and Bruce were waiting for them, smiles on their faces.

  “When you say you’ve got a surprise, Matt, you really do it up right!” Red said.

  Brian was awake. He likely had a concussion, and he was suffering from dizziness and some nausea, but he was awake. Trinity said he needed someone to keep him awake through the night to monitor him for at least the next 24 hours, but that didn’t seem like much of a problem for the group. Between that bit of good news and their newfound stockpile of food, things were looking up.

  Everyone was exhausted by the time the truck was unloaded, and the group decided to wait until the morning to start organizing things. For now, they’d sleep. Anna would sit with Brian for a while to keep him awake, and Matt would keep first watch while the others slept. It had been a good day. It was time for some rest.

  Chapter 8 – Triage

  “Hold your hand here. Press hard,” Talia ordered a nearby woman. “Adam, bring those lanterns over closer, I need more light!”

  John watched his wife with wonder and awe. This had been going on for the last thirty minutes or so. The bullet had caught the man on the table high in the right side of his chest, just below his collarbone.

  John needed some fresh air.

  He reached out and took the man’s wallet from the steel tray it had been placed on and headed outside, where he quickly flipped it open.

  “Duane Jackson. Age seventeen. Duane, what in the world are you doing wrapped up in all of this mess?”

  Well, now he had a name. The kid would most likely pull through. His wife was good at her job, and the shot placement wasn’t immediately life-threatening. The big danger, he knew, was something they couldn’t do much to control. Blood clots would be a concern for Duane after recovery.

  He shook his head.

  “Can’t start thinking of him like a kid. He was taking shots at my friends. At me.”

  John was watching when Talia cut the man’s shirt off. He saw the tattoos and knew through his training that they identified the young man as a gang member. The colors of his clothes and the style that they were worn matched the profile.

  What John needed now was information. What had they been trying to achieve here tonight? How many men did they have? Where were they headquartered? All of these things needed answering so that he could plan and keep his family safe. For now, though, he needed to sleep. Answers could wait for the morning.

  John started the short walk home. The clinic was just down the street from his house, and it would only take a minute under normal circumstances, but his hip still hurt like the very devil himself, so progress was slow, even with the cane. He’d overexerted himself, and he knew tomorrow there would be hell to pay for it. The worst part was that his wife wouldn’t even feel sorry for him. She’d warned him, after all.

  The boys at the gate greeted him as he walked by, and he gave them a wave. Only 36 hours or so into this thing, and already they’d been shot at and returned fire. He wondered what would be next.

  He wouldn’t have to wait long.

  Episode 5: Reunion

  Chapter 1 — The Missing

  Linus heard the gunshots and knew exactly what was happening. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he’d made a huge mistake.

  He’d left the neighborhood briefly the day before to meet with an old acquaintance who used to provide him with all sorts of recreational drugs. He figured he’d do himself and the neighborhood some good by going to trade for some painkillers. His burns hurt like hell, and he didn’t want to risk getting caught stealing from the clinic’s private supply of booze again.

  The dealer lived just a couple of blocks away in an old Craftsman-style home that had seen better days. The mortar of the stonework was crumbling and the paint was flaking like skin after a bad sunburn. Linus knocked, and his old friend answered. “Friend” probably wasn’t the right word, though. A buyer didn’t hang out with his dealer. A buyer made a purchase and moved along before the dealer got too suspicious and decided he was an informant, or a cop. Linus’ old dealer offered him a drink, which he promptly accepted; he didn’t want to be rude to a potential trading partner. Thankfully, it wasn’t whiskey. After the incident with the goats he didn’t think he’d be able to stomach the taste of whiskey for quite some time. They moved out onto the porch, sitting in some broken-down lawn chairs.

  The man talked with him for a while longer after that first drink, and more alcohol flowed. After a couple of hours of sitting and talking in the shade—something they’d never done before—the dealer pulled his lawn chair in close and began his pitch.

  “Listen, Linus,” the old man started, “I’m going to level with you. Times are hard right now, but I can tell that you’re a good man. That’s why I want to help you.”

  Linus was starting to get tipsy, but he wasn’t drunk enough to not be at least a little suspicious. “Help me how?” He asked, his face drawn into a puzzled frown.

  “My associates and I have some medicine we can trade. Narcotics…some good stuff for the pain you’re in. Got a bottle of oxy for you. Free. No charge.”

  Now Linus was really suspicious.

  “What do you mean, free?”

  “Well, we’d need a favor, of course. Just a little bit of information.” The older man grinned. Then he explained his plan.

  Linus found himself nodding along, against his better judgment.

  So much for that angel on his shoulder.

  …

  Juliana really wanted a cookie. She’d tried her old trick of insisting her baby brother wanted one, and she wasn’t sure why it didn’t work. Apparently her parents believed it was too late at night for cookies. Juliana disagreed.

  She’d heard the fireworks going off earlier and knew that her mom and dad were outside watching. It was the perfect time to go downstairs and see if there were any cookies left from the batch her mother had made before the electricity decided to go away.

  She crept down the stairs as quietly as she could, even skipping the third step from the top; that one always squeaked no matter how careful she was.

  Finally, she landed on the ground floor and walked to the kitchen. The fireworks were still going, but she couldn’t see any of the pretty colors, and she started to think they might just be the noisemaking kind. Those weren’t as fun.

  Juliana moved a chair to the counter and climbed to the countertop, where she spied the wooden box her mother kept the baked goods in.

  She opened the box and exulted; there were three cookies left. She could eat one now and still have one tomorrow at breakfast with her brother. Her hand reached in; tiny fingers wrapped themselves around a cookie that seemed impossibly large to the little girl, and then a hand wrapped itself around her wrist.

  She was caught. Her Daddy had caught her, and she was going to be in trouble. She’d probably get grounded, and maybe get a spanking. Juliana turned to plead her case.

  “Daddy I’m sorry I—”

  Her voice was cut off to a muffle as a second hand clasped itself over her mouth. Her eyes adjusted, and she realized it wasn’t her father holding her, but some other man, a stranger. She screamed and kicked and tried to bite the hand, but it was stuffing something in her mouth; a rag, or a sock, somethin
g foul-tasting. Then they put something over her head so she couldn’t see.

  “Don’t worry, little one. If your Daddy plays nice and does what we say, you’ll be just fine.”

  “You don’t know my Daddy,” she thought.

  …

  John knew something was wrong when he saw the cookies lying on the counter. He knew that Juliana wouldn’t have left evidence behind like that. She was too smart. Too cookie-crazy. She would have eaten every last crumb. The thought brought a smile to his face, before the present situation flicked back into his mind and wiped it clean. A look of grin determination replaced the smile; the softness of his features turned to sharp edges. He headed up the stairs slowly, pistol drawn, remembering to skip the third step from the top. That one always squeaked and woke the kids when he was getting home late.

  The door to Nathan’s room was cracked open. The hinges creaked as John nudged the door open further. Stepping in, he was happy to see his boy sleeping soundly in the crib. He cleared the room and headed back into the hall. John padded quietly down to his daughter’s room and nudged the door open. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He headed inside and used his free hand to pull the covers back from Juliana’s bed. Pillows. Someone had used pillows to make it look like his daughter was still sleeping in her bed. He howled and limped quickly back down the stairs and outside, heading toward the clinic.

  The doors slammed open and John blasted through. His wife looked up, startled, and held up a calm hand.

  “John, the patient is stable, but I’ve worked very hard to get him that way. Be nice, and try and keep him in one piece?”

  She paused when she noticed the look in his eyes and the small stuffed rabbit in his right hand.

  “Talia, they have our daughter.”

 

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