Considerable Destruction Series (Book 1): Evasion (

by Hernandez, Erica

  I get up, padding into the dining room. People are always awake before me, not being a morning person. “Good morning!” I greet Jose, Rob, Sam, and Jessie, sitting at the table drinking coffee. Jedaiah comes in, installing himself on my leg. I take Jedaiah’s hand, heading him into the kitchen to make tea.

  “Good morning!” Morgan and Gracie are there making breakfast. “We’re having oatmeal this morning with grape sauce.”

  “Sounds yummy. My stomach doesn’t digest oatmeal well but I like it. I’ll digest it in the garden I think!” I accept a bowl for myself and Jedaiah.

  “Now you’re talking!” Morgan says, cheerfully.

  “I appreciate your enthusiasm! Do you need any help?”

  “No. You work hard enough, go have tea,” Morgan insists.

  I prep my tea pot, heading to the table. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?” I ask as Jedaiah snuggles in my lap to eat his oatmeal.

  “There’s still wood to chop,” Rob offers.

  “And we’re working on clearing the passage through the back yards up to Ellen Street. Anyone is welcome to help,” Jose says.

  “We should check the garden. Don’t you think Eli? I wonder if those seeds are coming up yet,” Morgan ponders. Eli nods.

  “I need more exercise than yoga,” I say. “Do you think there are few enough crazies that we could go for a walk? We need to stay in shape so we can run faster than them. Maybe we should start running the hills.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Sam encourages me. “We really do need to stay in shape.”

  “I think we’re getting enough exercise building fences,” Rob teases.

  “She’s right, though, about the running,” Sam continues. “Maybe we should run up hill with back packs, checking houses on the way down. It could be a form of scouting.” We discuss which roads are the safest, considering running around the water tower. There should be fewer crazies since there are no houses.

  Others trickle in, filling the table and the room. My tea kettle whistles. “I’ll get that.” Morgan pats my shoulder, gently.

  Sheba walks over to me and I scratch her head absently. Dixie’s dog, Mike, hangs around, nudging Dixie for scratches. Sheba rushes to the front window, growling. I head over, setting Jedaiah on my chair.

  “Who could that be? I don’t see any crazies, but there’s a car out there.”

  Gracie is right behind me. “Wow, that looks like Bree’s car.” She presses her face against the glass. “I think that’s her, mom! Let’s go out and meet her, okay?” She’s practically dancing.

  “Her little sister’s there, but who’s that woman?” I ask. We head out to greet Bree, realizing quickly, that she’s not with her mother. I don’t recognize the woman with her. “Gracie!” Bree rushes at Gracie, nearly knocking her down. “Oh, my God! We’ve been through hell!” Bree bursts into tears, quietly, while Gracie holds her.

  “Hi, I’m Danielle, their neighbor,” the small Asian woman speaks up. “The kids hid at my house, while their parents fought crazies.”

  “Come inside, please, it’s safe here.” I hug her and she grips me, desperately, shaking. I take her hand, leading her into the house with Bree’s little sister, Gini, who hasn’t said a word. She’s 16. I motion to Nadir to take Jedaiah to play.

  We settle in the living room with Eli, Dixie, and Sam who all know them from school. “What happened?” I ask Danielle, holding her hand. Jose and Rob stand, listening. They knew the girls from overnights, but not as well.

  “Their parents sent them to my house, through the back, when some crazies got on their porch,” says Danielle. “I’m afraid they got into the house.” I feel her hand grip mine.

  “Mom told us to run to Danielle’s,” Bree cries out. “She and dad would fight them off.” Then she dissolves into tears, while Gracie holds her. Gini just leans on my other side. I’ve wrapped my arm around her. She is silent, glassy-eyed, obviously in shock.

  “I took the girls down to the basement and went to see if I could help. It was quiet when I got there…” Danielle shudders, then leans in to me and whispers, “It was a blood bath. They crushed their skulls! It was horrific.” Then in a normal voice, she says, “They had trashed the house and left. I went to check their parents but of course there was no pulse!” She sobs, loudly, then pulls herself together. In a quiet voice she says, “There was a mark on their cheek in sharpie.”

  “What did it look like?” I ask.

  “It was like a crown,” Danielle says, confused. “What could that mean?” I just shake my head but in the back of my mind a memory pops up.

  “I didn’t know what to do,” Danielle says between sobs. “I knew I couldn’t protect them by myself. Bree told me about you guys. She felt so sure you would all be alright. I packed their backpacks with salvaged clothes, grabbed everything I could think of, then left. I rushed through everything, grabbing a picture of their parents and racing back to the girls. They stayed put, thank God!”

  “She told us Mom and Dad were dead! They’re dead, Gracie! My God, I can’t believe they’re dead!” Bree bursts into a new wave of wracking sobs, held by Gracie. I feel Gini shudder under my arm. I glance over at her as a single tear trickles down her pale cheeks.

  “I threw the bags into the car,” Danielle explains. “I loaded it all into their minivan. I suctioned the gas out of my car so we’d have a full tank. Eighteenth Street looked awful, with crowds of crazies. We used back roads.” She looks scared, but she won’t say it.

  “It’s awful,” I agree. “We need to stay in groups and help each other. Was your trip bad?”

  “It was rough,” Danielle shakes her head. “I zigzagged through the hills to avoid most of them.”

  “I understand,” I say, squeezing her hand. “We’ve gone on some missions to get supplies. I’ve seen it first-hand.”

  “We had to run over some to get through.” She reaches out and I hug her, holding Gini in my other arm. “I wanted to pull over and figure out what to do but it was too dangerous. We had to keep going. I can hardly believe we’re here and safe. I don’t know if we’ll ever be the same…”

  “Do you have any family out there?” I ask her gently.

  “My husband died a week ago…” She trails off. Then she says quietly, almost to herself, “I don’t have anyone else on the west coast.”

  I hug her tighter. “No worries. You can stay with us. We have plenty of love to share.” I lean over, kissing Gini’s head. I’ve known her since she was about three, when Bree and Gracie started kindergarten. Her mom and I were becoming good friends when my son, Rasheen, died. She began avoiding me. It must have been overwhelming for her to think of one of her own children dying. Some friends just disappeared at the time I needed them most, but those who could handle it became closer.

  She pulls away. “I’m so glad you guys are here and welcome us. I don’t know what I would do without you all.”

  “Of course, It’s the only way survive now. Shall we unload your car? Then we can talk about where you’d be comfortable sleeping.”

  “Yes, thanks.” She zones out, not moving, the shock settling in.

  I look over at Bree and Gracie. Gracie has her arm around Bree, who continues to hiccup and cry. Then I look at Gini, who’s numb with shock. “Gini, do you want to come with us to get things from the car?” I start to stand up as she follows the movements of my body without a word. We walk arm in arm, nudging Danielle to the door. Simon, Dixie, and Sam follow us.

  I check the street, which looks quiet. “It looks okay. Sheba!” She races to my side as we head out to the car.

  “You were in a hurry!” I exclaim, looking at the mess of bags thrown into the car. “But it looks like you did your best.”

  “This will be useful!” Sam adds grabbing a bag with first aid supplies.

  “This is the kind of stuff we needed!” Simon jokes, taking out a bag of liquor.

  Even Gini reaches out to get a bag. Everyone takes bags into the house.

 
“I’ll put this in the pantry,” Simon offers. I admire the quantity Danielle managed to pack. We sort fresh and canned food, clothes and first aid supplies, putting them away. Gini seems to be recovering a little bit, helping out. Then she just slumps against me. Danielle gets distracted often, perhaps dissociating.

  “What will I do without my mama?” She asks quietly, laying her head against my shoulder, beginning to cry. We stand in the kitchen for a while, me holding her, letting her cry.

  “You’ll cry. You’ll hurt, a lot.” It’s simple yet horrific. I remember when Rasheen died, how hard I tried to hold myself together for Eli and Gracie. I’d pick them up at school, tuck them away in the back seat, then cry quietly all the way home. Then I’d tuck my grief away long enough to get them a snack and started on homework, while I hid doing my crying meditation. I cried four or five times a day for a long time. Sometimes I’d cry for over an hour until I was completely exhausted. I understand her need to cry, relieved she’s able to as I lead her gently to a comfy chair. She continues to weep until it changes to keening. I hold her, stroking her long, wavy blond hair. Eventually she quiets.

  I hear Danielle asking what needs to be done, while Gracie talks with Bree about sleeping arrangements. It sounds like Gracie is thinking about sleeping somewhere with Bree, offering my bed to Gini. I return to Danielle, “You need an opportunity to draw or write about your experience. Would you like some privacy?”

  Danielle just nods. I lead her to a back room, giving her supplies.

  “Bree said we could stay here,” Gini says. “Who will be our family?”

  “We’re your family now. Sam and I have known you since you were three years old. We’ll be your aunts.” I won’t suggest we’ll be her mothers, since she just lost hers, but I want her to know she has family. This isn’t just a place to stay. “At night, would you like to sleep with me for a while until you feel safe enough to sleep on your own?’

  She nods, almost imperceptibly.

  Eli manages to get Gini to go out with him and Morgan to check the seeds. The rest divvy up chopping wood, moving fences, making bread, and working in the garden. I amble out to the garden, knowing my stomach is going to react to the oatmeal. Eli has gotten there ahead of me.

  “How do the seeds look?” I ask.

  “Come see them! They’re starting to sprout!” He’s animated.

  I head over and sure enough, there are sprouts coming out of the earth. “Look at those! They’re sprouting already.”

  “Maybe they actually do respond to song....” Morgan wonders.

  “Good for you!” I admire the nearby cilantro, which is small but big enough to pick a little. I lift a bucket, moving toward the apple tree. I pick a bunch more apples, visit the chickens to gather eggs, then I gather up our dwarf bunny, Ciarran, and carry him to Gini. “Would you like to hold Ciarran?”

  “Ooh, yeah.” She takes him in her arms, smiling, briefly, for the first time. It reminds me of how Gracie used to bring me her hamster to hold just after Rasheen died. That adorable little animal, racing up and down my arm, always managed to make me smile, despite my sadness. She carries him over to the outdoor table, sitting down to snuggle him.

  “You could sit with him in the pen when you’re done snuggling him and let him run, eat grass, and dandelions,” I suggest.

  “Okay. Where is it?” She looks somewhat interested and I am glad I thought of getting Ciarran out. Her cheeks have a blush, her green eyes gaze at Ciarran.

  I point out the pen at the bottom of the slide. “You can put him down in here if you want, but keep an eye on him, okay? We can’t let him get out.” I do some weeding, then return to the kitchen, Jose and Rob behind me.

  “We found a short-wave radio!” Rob says.

  “We’ll set it up!” Jose is equally excited. “Do you want to come listen?” I follow them into the living room. Jose turns it on, as Jedaiah climbs in my lap, allowing the staticky sound to enter the room. He fiddles with the dial, listening for voices. A couple times we hear something, but as he tunes, they disappear.

  “There’s got to be someone out there!” I cry out.

  “I’m sure there are people out there,” Rob assures me. “It’s just taking people some time to establish a safe place, figure out survival and food, and feel able to focus on communication with others.”

  “That makes sense.” I let out a breath. “We should try to communicate with others.”

  “Always the trusting one,” Rob warns. “You’re so ready to open your heart for anyone and I love that about you, but we need to be cautious. Our community is very small and we don’t know who is out there listening. I think we’re better off staying quiet,” Rob warns.

  “Even the crazies might work out a short-wave radio and they could be coordinated enough to seek us out!” Jose’s concern is apparent. “We should create an antenna on the roof, then try again in the evening. Radio waves travel better in the dark. Maybe we’ll have better luck then.”

  “Good idea. Let’s go see if we have the supplies we need.” Rob and Jose stride off. Jose looks back at me, smiling warmly.

  I return to the kitchen, looking for work to do. “Hi, Jessie, what are your plans for those herbs, tea?”

  “Basically. Or anything else we can think of. I cut a bunch of peppermint and lemon balm. There’s so much out there, it will grow back in the Spring. You could use more dried lemon balm, you don’t have very much. This isn’t the best time of year for harvesting herbs but it’s better than not having them.”

  “I can help.” I join in, removing the dried leaves from the stems.

  Jose enters. “I’m pretty filthy. Could I get a glass of water?”

  “Sure.” I get a glass, fill it, following him back outside. “Quiero hablar en privado.” I explain that I want to talk privately.

  “Vamos.” He says, let’s go. We walk past others working and head for the chicken coop. “We can talk in my office!” He jokes.

  “Did you hear what Danielle said about Bree’s parents?”

  “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about that. They didn’t have a fence, did they?”

  “No. But do you think a fence is going to be enough?” I ask, concerned that crazies could attack our community.

  “I don’t know. I hope so. The fence should at least slow someone down so we have warning.”

  “I need to talk about something serious. Danielle told me the killer left a crown symbol drawn on their skin.”

  He looks confused. “What’s that all about?”

  “I had a client who did that. I would never have seen him but he was referred by his mother. She said he had PTSD, but he was a hardened criminal and sociopathic. He’d spent 35 years in prison. His MO was raping girls and marking a crown somewhere on them in sharpie. He was never convicted of murder, but I always suspected him.”

  “You worked with this guy?”

  “It was weird,” I slowly shake my head. “He was beginning to really talk to me about the crazy stuff he lived through as a child. His parents were in a cult and I guess the head of the cult wore a crown and called himself the King. The cult leader was attracted to my client and abused him regularly and horrifically.”

  “Rob and I can put our heads together. It’s a long shot he’s actually out there.”

  “But the crown,” I say.

  “That’s probably a coincidence but we could top the fence with barbed wire.”

  “Barbed wire is a good idea,” I say.

  “I’ll go run this by Rob,” Jose says.

  “Go ahead.” I head back inside, gathering folks to bring dirty laundry. I want to see if we have enough solar energy to wash laundry. I’m walking out of the laundry room when Rob comes in the back door.

  “I think we need to get everyone some target practice,” Rob says. “I want to make sure everyone knows how to use a gun. Do you know where Jake is? He could lead this.”

  “I’m not sure. Jessie? Are you in the kitchen?” I enter the kitchen with Rob.
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  “Yeah, what do you need?”

  “Jake needs to teach gun safety and accuracy,” Rob says. “Do you know where he is?”

  Jake comes in the back door. “Here’s the flour you wanted, Jessie. Hey guys, what’s up?”

  “Jake, I need you to teach gun safety.”

  “I’d love to. Jessie knows her way around a gun. She could help.”

  “I’m making bread. Let me know when the targets are ready.”

  “Sounds good,” Rob says. “Sam is setting them up now.”

  “What’s that I hear about target practice? I’d definitely like some o’ dat action!” Alex comes in just then with Jonathan right behind him.

  “Count me in,” Jonathan adds.

  Rob nods. “Sam is setting up hay bales and scrap wood to use as targets.”

  We depart, Nick catching Jedaiah, following Rob to where Sam has targets set up in the yard to the south. Rob hands out firearms.

  “Remember to always watch the muzzle, pointing only at something you intend to shoot,” Jake explains. “Treat every firearm with the respect due a loaded weapon. Keep your finger outside the trigger until you’re ready to shoot.” He walks around the group introducing us to our guns, showing us how the safety works. Alex and Jonathan are familiar with guns but need practice.

  We all stroll into the next yard for target practice.

  “Now I want you to know how to load the firearm.” He demonstrates and watches us try.

  “Like this?” I ask.

  “That’s it. Good job.” He pats me on the shoulder. “You guys look like you’ve done this before.” He’s talking to all of us. I’ve done a little target practice before with someone, God knows who.

  “Okay, let’s all line up here and aim at the target.” He hands out ear plugs. “Aim with your dominant eye. Aiming with both eyes is impossible. It will probably line up with your dominant hand.”

  “How do I know which is my dominant eye?” I don’t remember this part.

  “Hold your fingers like this, extending them to arm’s length to look through them at the target. Now move it toward your eye.”

  I follow his instructions, pulling it toward my right eye.