Considerable Destruction Series (Book 1): Evasion (

by Hernandez, Erica

  “We’ve got to stop this bleeding.” The blood spurs her into action as she rips a section off her t-shirt, wrapping it around his head. She adds another strip of material stopping the flow of blood. His curly blonde hair is pushed up by the wrapping and matted with blood, his face pale, his eyes watching the rearview mirror anxiously. He looks so much like his mother at thirty years old. His body is strong, medium build, but wiry and muscular. Sam finishes bandaging his head as he’s getting out of the car. She turns to the boys.

  “Get your packs, stay together, we’ve got to go!” They’re about half way in between the two houses, with only their Bug-Out-Bags. They slip out the opposite side of the car, moving from each abandoned car to the next one, looking for one with keys in the ignition. There’s almost a solid wall of mini vans and SUV’s haphazardly lining the road. Alex tries several before they find a black Mercedes SUV, with keys in the ignition, but also a dead man slumped over the wheel. His bloated hands grip the steering column. Sam recoils in horror. Alex steps up, grabs the back of the corpse’s coat, pulling him out onto the street with a sickening thud, his skull splitting open and the contents oozing onto the pavement. Sam empties her stomach next to his brains.

  “Shit, man, get in the car.” Simon bellows, while we listen to the gang destroying vehicles behind us. “They’re still coming!”

  “Drive!” Eli hollers.

  We tumble into the Mercedes, Alex’s hands white knuckling the steering wheel.

  “Go, go, go!” screams Sam, pounding the dash as the black SUV leaps away from the curb.

  “You gotta fucking love German engineering,” Alex pants.

  Sam watches out the back window as the gang recedes into the distance. “Let’s go up here,” she suggests as they near a rocky drive, almost at the end of the block. “It’ll get us in the back way.”

  “Wow, it’s desolated here,” Eli exclaims. Sam lets out a sigh as Eli and Simon get out, striding ahead to the back door of the house. Eliana and Jose built this house to their liking, thinking that one day they might live in it. There’s over two acres here, split between two houses. Sam wonders if the renters are still alive, noticing the fence is completed. She knows it’s recent, since the kids told her it wasn’t done a week ago. There is no movement anywhere around the house.

  “Hold up, dudes.” Alex is on the job.

  They all reach the back door. “Let’s call for them but be ready,” Sam suggests, praying for the best, preparing for the worst.

  They enter and the kids call, “Dad…Papá!” There’s no answer. Sam’s frozen, listening. She glances around the empty basement. Alex leans against the wall while Eli rushes for the cellar door, with Simon at his heels. Alex and Sam are close behind.

  “Be careful.” She can’t stop herself. “The boogie man might get you!” Stress and jokes go hand in hand.

  “There’s nothing here, no winter squash, no potatoes, nothing,” Eli says, resignedly.

  “Let’s check upstairs.” Alex is already heading back, pulling himself up with the banister. They head upstairs as quickly as possible, listening to nothing but silence.

  They search the house, seeing no sign of Bug-Out-Bags, no food preparation, and actually, no food at all. “It looks like they’ve packed up,” Sam comments.

  “They’ve taken everything important,” Simon agrees.

  “There’s no mess!” Eli exclaims.

  They head to the front windows, seeing no sign of either man, one truck missing.

  “Maybe they’re coming to our house!” Simon exclaims. Jose’s truck is missing while Rob’s truck is still there. They’ve gone somewhere together in Jose’s bigger truck.

  Just then, Alex crumples. Simon catches him, laying him on the couch.

  Eli’s right at his side. “Can you guys get me hot water, a cloth, and that acupressure book off the shelf, and a first aid kit?” Eli has developed a strong interest in Asian medicine, planning to go to acupuncture school after he gets his Bachelor’s degree.

  Sam grabs the book, lays it by him, then heads into the kitchen to heat water and get a clean towel. Moments later, she sets them next to Simon, as he digs in his bag for the first aid kit.

  “Here!” Simon opens the kit, laying it on the side table by Alex’s head.

  “Excellent.” Eli’s taken the bandage off and cleans the wound. He appears to be using acupressure to stem the blood flow. Alex has lost consciousness.

  “What about alcohol or something?” Eli asks.

  Simon rushes off, knowing where to look. He’s in and out of the kitchen fast. “I found a bottle with a tiny bit left. Maybe that’s why it’s still here.” He hands it to Eli, kneeling on the floor, ready to help. Eli cleans the wound, and Alex groans. While Eli bandages Alex, Sam scours the house to see if they missed anything.

  “We should get going. I can carry Alex.”

  “Can you carry him to the SUV?” Sam asks. “I’d say we continue on back roads as much as possible.” Simon and Eli nod as Simon lifts Alex, tossing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. They head down the stairs, and back to the SUV. For once, Sam is grateful for the desolation, tingling and alert. Back in the car, Sam hears crashing where the wild gang was.

  She crosses at the intersection, heading for a smaller thoroughfare. The quiet is both peaceful and unnerving. Seeing a crowd up ahead, Sam turns off a side street. She circles around some less populated roads, finding her way back to the main route. Only three streets go to Eliana’s, and she’s focused on the least congested. She sees the end of the crowd, so she whips the truck around, doubling back, heading for the next street. They slide through the turn as an object whizzes past them, hitting a window of the house on the corner. The glass shatters. Sweat moistens her brow as screams follow them, making it hard to tell if it’s coming from the house or somewhere else.

  Then something shoots at the car, breaking Simon’s window.

  “What the fuck?!” Simon screams. Sam fills with rage to cover her fear.

  “I’m okay. Keep driving!” He’s insistent as Sam peeks at him, white knuckling the steering wheel.

  “They have guns!” She expresses in shock. This makes them far more dangerous. She flies right through the intersection. “Thank fucking Christ!” She continues through residential areas, avoiding the main roads.

  “We still need to check on Alex’s dad,” Eli points out, as the car careens around a turn.

  “Please.” It’s the first peep out of Alex.

  “Are you okay?” Sam asks Simon.

  “Yeah” Simon grunts. “Eli can fix me up.” Sam turns down Nathan’s street, stopping in front of his house. She can’t resist looking at Simon’s arm. He turns, avoiding her.

  “The key is in a plant pot, slightly in the dirt behind the plant, if you need it.” Eli explains. He’s obviously staying with Alex.

  “Just give him a minute to fix me up before we go in, okay?” Simon asks Sam.

  “Okay.” Eli gets out, coming around to Simon’s side of the car. Sam finally looks closer. His right arm has a gash in it, surrounded by a nasty welt, which he’s holding with his other hand as blood seeps through. Sam’s gut clenches, seeing the injury.

  “This isn’t bad. I’ll clean it up, put some butterfly band-aids on, and it’ll hold together. It could probably use stitches but it’ll heal.” Eli cleans it with some medicated wipes, coats it with comfrey salve, and secures the bandage. “It’s a little worse than I thought. It’s gonna be badly bruised later. You’d better stay out here with Alex and I’ll go in.”

  “Okay, let’s go then, but keep your eyes open!” Sam glances at Simon’s wound before rushing up to Nathan’s front door. Having seen his cut, she feels lightheaded, yanking herself away, she races to the door, tries the handle, and finds it locked.

  Finding the key easily, Eli opens the door. “Nathan?” Sam follows him in, saunters to the kitchen, trying to erase the wound from her mind. It kills her that her son is hurt, so she replays Eli’s word
s for reassurance. She glances in the living room on the way, observing Nathan on the couch, watching TV, but he’s slumped to the side, and hasn’t responded. Sam dashes in to check his pulse. He’s cold, no need to check his pulse being cold with no color. He’s been dead for hours already.

  “Go with God,” she says to him. “Check the kitchen for good food and pack it up quick. I’ll check the bathroom.” Sam runs into the bathroom, finds some medicine in the cabinet, some first aid supplies, and tosses them in her t-shirt. It’s ripped anyway. She’s returning to the living room, but notices a cupboard that beckons her. She opens it, finding it loaded with alcohol. He always was a big drinker according to Eliana. She pulls it all out, runs into the kitchen for bags, one of which she promptly empties the contents of her shirt into. “Check the freezer.”

  They’re back at the car in minutes. “I’ve got some codeine here,” Simon reports.

  “Good thing. I think we’re going to need it,” she says. “Alex, I’m sorry, sweetie. Your dad died.” Sam kisses his forehead. Alex looks down, shaking, while she hands the bag of medicine to Eli. She climbs in, making it to the next intersection without incident.

  Sam races uphill, cutting over to avoid busy roads. She notices a couple young ladies waving wildly at them. They don’t seem aggressive and she can’t pass them by, so she pulls over. Simon is doing okay, giving her more faith in Eli’s first aide skills.

  “I’m going to reach over you to roll the window down,” she warns Simon.

  She pulls to a stop at the curb, leans over, and rolls the window down.

  “Please wait!” The girls chorus. “Everyone’s gone!” Sam realizes there are tears streaming down one of their faces while the other looks like she’s in shock. “We just got here and they’re gone!”

  “Is anyone else in the house besides your folks?” Sam’s thinking of gathering more supplies, medicine, and food.

  “No.” The smaller girl shakes her head, her petite frame similar to Gracie’s, but with a short, blonde bob, and blue eyes. She has a turned-up nose, a smattering of freckles across her cheeks, her expression blank. They both wear skinny jeans and sweatshirts but the other girl has long brown hair and green eyes, tall and willowy.

  “How’s your arm?” Sam asks Simon.

  “I’m fine,” he lies, holding his right shoulder with his left hand even with the bandage.

  “Okay girls, run in fast, get a bag of clothes, and bring any medicine. Hurry! We may come back later for food.” Sam turns to the guys, “Eli, can you stay with Simon if I run in too? I could grab a bag of food.”

  “Go!” Eli commands.

  Sam runs after the taller girl as they split off into neighboring houses. “I’m following you in, okay. Thought I could help you carry some food out as long as we’re here.”

  “Sure.” She continues down a hall.

  Sam finds the kitchen and a few cloth bags hanging on a hook. She opens the fridge, going for the stuff that won’t last, filling the bag with fresh food. There’s not a lot.

  “I’m ready,” the tall girl says.

  “I’m Sam, by the way. Did you get everything in the medicine cabinet?”

  “Hi Sam. I’m Morgan. I got what I need. Do you want me to get everything?”

  “Anything medicine, first aide, soaps, we’ll need it all at some point I imagine,” Sam directs her. “Here, you want one of these cloth bags?”

  Morgan takes it, striding to the bathroom.

  Sam opens the freezer, finding it jammed with frozen food, even ice cream. She adds to the first bag, filling the second. She finds cupboards full of food, but they need to get going. The rest will wait. When Morgan returns, they head back to the car, finding the petite girl already there.

  “We had packed a bag already, trying to figure out what to do. I’m Morgan. This is Faith.” Morgan is the taller one, Faith is the blonde. She introduces herself to the guys.

  “I can’t believe this situation! Someone came in and just murdered my parents in cold blood!” Faith doesn’t seem to get what really happened. Sam loads the bags in and starts the car.

  “Wait! I need to go back and get something really important!” Faith is bursting, already opening the door. Sam turns the car off.

  “Hurry!”

  “I’ll go with her,” Morgan offers, chasing after her.

  “Maybe she needed something of her mom’s,” Sam suggests, concerned about the girls having lost their family. A few minutes later they’re back. Faith sports a smirk, while Morgan’s forehead is wrinkled, her face stiff and red with anger. When they get in and settled, Faith pulls out a bag of chips.

  “What was it you needed to go back in for?” Sam asks as if she doesn’t notice the chips. Morgan looks away, out the window, clearly irritated.

  “I had to get chips,” Faith says in an irritated voice, like that would be obvious.

  “In our community, we work for the good of all, sharing all the food,” Sam explains. “We definitely don’t prioritize junk food over someone who is injured,” Sam adds a bit harshly. “Since you felt it was important enough to make us wait for you to bring chips, while Simon and Alex are both wounded, you’ll also share them with the group.”

  “That’s the way we run our community,” Simon reinforces. “So, by all means, pass the chips!”

  “I’m not sharing these,” she says moving them away from us.

  “Faith, you need to share. What’s got into you?” Morgan sounds distressed by her friend’s behavior.

  Sam slows the car down, pulling over to the curb. “You’re welcome to join our community, but living with us also means working and sharing, so what’s it going to be?” Sam doesn’t move the car, while waiting for her answer.

  “Oh, alright,” she gives in, passing the chips.

  Sam wonders how troublesome Faith will be as they’re driving home, eating chips.

  Eight

  Simon

  Pain and Cute Girls

  Simon’s arm is throbbing but he’s trying to ignore it. He’s proud his mom pulls over in response to two girls waving. He admires their great legs, wondering about their personalities. He grits his teeth to manage the pain.

  The girls get in, sliding into the seat behind him. They share a seat, so it’s tight, but Eli’s not complaining. Faith has a stick up her butt, despite being cute. Her attitude, however, disturbs Simon. Maybe she’s in shock and not responding very well. Simon’s been around Eliana long enough to know that some people get really irritable when they are in shock after a loved one has died. He tries to remember this.

  “I had to get my chips,” Faith says, with attitude. She totally disgusts Simon. His arm is throbbing, probably bleeding while they stopped to help the girls, yet she’s worried about chips. Simon is hot with anger, thinking, What a bitch.

  Sam is giving her a line about how their community works which Simon tunes out. The pain is distracting, so he tunes in to listen to Morgan, who sounds really cool. Then Sam pulls over, causing Simon to press his lips together, tightly, to prevent moaning. He hopes no one notices him, not wanting his mom to realize how bad the gash is.

  Nine

  Eliana

  Injuries and illness

  It’s been repetitious, peeling the husks off, putting the tomatillos in wash water, but now the two large pots are full of tomatillos and I’m cutting onions.

  “Mom, here’s a pot of apples.” Gracie hands me a pot heaped with sliced apples. “We probably have enough for one more pot. Don’t we have another?”

  “Um, we’re running low.” I take the pot and set it on the stove. “You might need a stool to get a large pot from the garage.”

  “Okay.” She’s gone and I’m back to onions, but my mind is on our family out risking themselves in this crazy world. My stomach is clenched with worry. The apples need to cook so I turn the stove on, pour some cinnamon in along with some water. I chop onions, then do garlic. It’s a tedious job, so much more fun when there are others to work with. Than
kfully there’s music, but my mind keeps wandering. I keep remembering the guy I saw brandishing a knife. The girls return with another pot of apples and the stove is full. I notice Gracie putting cinnamon in the other apples.

  “Thanks, dear.”

  “What can I do to help with the salsa?” Dixie asks. I hand her some hot peppers to chop. Although we make salsa and apple sauce every year, this time is different, charged with nerves.

  Sheba starts whining at the window, near the front door. My heart skips a beat. “Are they back?” We all rush to look, seeing Jose’s truck. “Oh my God! They found them.” The truck pulls in next to the RV. I run to the garage, opening it for them. The girls are right behind me.

  “Do you think it’s all of them in Jose’s truck?” Dixie asks.

  “I hope so. I just want them all back.” Gracie is so close I can feel her near me. As they pull into the garage, I realize that it’s only Jose and Rob.

  “Oh, damn, I was hoping it was all of them.” The joy that rushed through me is diminished, knowing my kids are still out there with my best friend and Simon. Dixie and Gracie run to embrace their fathers. There’s a chorus of sweethearts and chiquitas.

  “¿Como estás?” Jose asks Gracie in Spanish, hugging her, then looks at me questioningly. My heart stops as he walks directly to me, looking at me with a penetrating gaze in his dark, liquid eyes. “¿Donde estan los niños?” He asks where the kids are.

  “Ellos fueron a buscarlos.” They went looking for you guys. “¿No los mirastes?” You didn’t see them? I completely ignore his other question, not feeling comfortable enough to tell him how terrified I am. Restlessness overtakes me, filling the hole in my chest. I was so calm before all this mess started, but having my loved one’s lives at risk amps me up, leaving the calm behind.