Considerable Destruction Series (Book 1): Evasion (

by Hernandez, Erica

  “Ready?” Rob asks. We unload, heading around the back to include Jonathan in the conversation. Rob opens the canopy top and drops the tailgate. “So, have you noticed how few crazies there seem to be?”

  “It’s hard to see from back here, but it does seem quieter.”

  “Do you want to stay here with Morgan? Maybe you could hang out and keep watch?” Rob suggests.

  “That sounds good.” Jonathan crawls to the end of the truck and sits on the tailgate.

  “I’ll stay, man, and keep watch.” Stephen heads off to the other end of the truck.

  The rest of us grab empty duffel bags. “How about Sam and I go left and you go right?” Rob nods.

  “What do you want us to grab?” Sam checks in.

  “A large variety of art supplies!” I laugh as we turn the other direction. “Will you pack drawing paper and other supplies from the first aisle?”

  He nods. “Sure.”

  I head into the inner aisle, stuffing nice pens, pencils, other writing implements, markers, and other art tools in the bag to use for therapy. I also grab drawing paper, painting supplies, and more. In less than an hour we’re loading it into the truck, Jonathan crawls in near Morgan, and we head to the hospital.

  “Wow, that was easy!” Rob laughs.

  “Easy, peasy, lemon squeezy!” I laugh back.

  “God, it would be incredible if the whole winter could be like this!” Sam is laughing too.

  We head off, admiring the empty street, empty of infected anyway. There is a lane down the center, while abandoned cars line the edges haphazardly.

  “Think of the things we can do this winter if the crazies continue to be catatonic!” Sam is winding up. “We could gather more generators, gather wool socks, more fleece PJs, hit grocery stores, get seeds, good dirt for planting! The possibilities are endless!!” She says, excitedly. “We could get liquor for tinctures!”

  We turn on Thirteenth towards the hospital. “I think we’re going to have to head over to Fourteenth again. Look at all these cars!” The road is jammed. “We can try to get closer than last time.”

  “Good idea. It’s cold and we’ll have to leave Morgan with someone in the truck. We’ll need Jonathan to go with us,” I concur. They turn, finding the roads jammed completely.

  “Damn. We can’t get through Patterson. I think we should go back and park in your garage so Morgan is safer.”

  “Yeah. It’s best.”

  He turns around, heading back for my parking garage. “Sam, would you stay with Morgan? I think we need someone who’s a good shot,” Rob suggests.

  “Yeah. That’s true. I’ll lay low in the back,” Sam agrees.

  We head out again with two packs each. “Let’s jog to keep warm, okay?” I suggest.

  Rob takes the lead. “Sounds good.” We weave between cars heading towards the back of the hospital, to avoid the emergency entrance, crowded with crazies. We cut through parking lots, finding the shortest route.

  “The employee entrance is this way.” Jonathan leads us toward a door which was unnoticed. The quiet is alarming, no traffic, no music, no people, and most remarkably, no crazies. He lets us in, leading us down a hall to a supply closet that looks just like the one we found last time. I feel a slight ache of guilt having to take things, but there’s no way to avoid it. We need supplies to keep our people safe and healthy.

  “Thank God it’s still mostly full! Let’s load up as much as we can, grabbing all the antipsychotics.” Jonathan directs us, pointing to the priorities. We clear shelves of medicine and surgical supplies, filling our packs to the rim.

  “That was a good haul,” Rob boasts. “Let’s get the hell out of dodge!”

  “Can you believe how quiet it is here?” I listen to silence, no screams, no footsteps, no buzzing, nothing. “I’m almost surprised there isn’t a safe zone in the hospital. Maybe just because it’s near the U of O.” We exit the closet, hurrying for the exit through the silent, institutional hallway. We race back across the parking lot, towards the car.

  It’s so quiet, we’re back to the truck in minutes with no interference.

  “Are you both okay?” Rob asks Sam as we pile in.

  “All good,” she confirms.

  “Now we’re busting some ass!” Rob laughs as we turn west, cruising easily through one of the busiest parts of town without a single interruption.

  “Driving is a breeze now!” Stephen’s laughter sounds drunk on our own safety. “A song, mate! How ‘bout a CD?’ Stephen jokes.

  “Right on!” Sam finds a CD, putting it in. ABBA blares out of the speakers. “If you change your mind, I’m the first in line…” She sings.

  “Take a chance, take a chance…” I back her up.

  “I can’t believe how quiet it is!” Stephen remarks, interrupting our song.

  “We could practically have a dance party in the street!” I laugh.

  “We’ll invite the U of O contingent. Downtown block party. We’ll get a live band, wear party clothes, and dance!” Sam laughs. “Maybe we should head to a liquor store now, while it’s so quiet!”

  “That’s a great idea,” I agree. “It’s so easy driving and I need some alcohol for tinctures.” Rob takes a quick left towards a nearby liquor store. We cruise down the main drag, into the business district, bantering and fantasizing.

  “Wow! Look at this, rows of stores and no crazies anywhere!” Stephen remarks, laughing, then becomes subdued. “I can’t believe this.” His voice cracks. “If we had just waited to come, maybe Priscilla would still be alive…”

  I interrupt him. “Don’t do that to yourself. She wasn’t killed by an infected, she was killed by a mad man.” I interrupt him, angry at the whole situation. He looks out the window with tears in his eyes, nodding. “He draws a crown on his victims. I don’t see infected doing that. They don’t seem very well organized.” I’m not ready to share my experience with this sicko. I worry Stephen will share it with Portia who’ll find a way to blame me. The car quiets, my mind racing back to Rasheen’s death. She was horrid, blaming me for my son’s death.

  Suddenly, Rasheen’s happy face appears in my mind, his dimpled smile and dark sparkling eyes. Then my chest aches, the grief settling on my heart.

  “Be careful…” I sense his words in my mind. About what, I wonder.

  “Him...” The message penetrates my mind. “The Crown Killer. He’ll find you…” The pain in my chest shifts as I begin feeling fear.

  Rob pulls into the large parking lot with the liquor store. There are a few infected milling about, but they seem unmotivated, even tired. I notice how strange this is, an area that is usually bustling with shoppers, heading to the Big 5, going to eat at Subway, or grocery shopping at the Market of Choice.

  “Arrived and not a single issue with those psychotic nuts,” Sam exclaims.

  Rob parks in front of the liquor store. “Look, the store’s empty! Lucky for us. I’ll stay away on guard.”

  “We’ll stand guard again, but it doesn’t look like it’s going to be much work,” Jonathan says.

  We enter the store. “I only need some vodka and Everclear for tinctures,” I say.

  “Maybe we should get a few other things, just in case,” Sam says, grabbing a box. Stephen and I get two more.

  We return slowly to the front, filling the boxes with bottles. “Is this hard for you?” I ask Rob.

  “A little but I’ll be okay,” he says. I notice Sam packing rum, vodka, and gin. When the boxes are full, we each heft one out.

  We crowd in the truck laughing about our haul. “Can you believe all that just sitting there for the taking!” Stephen laughs.

  “There were a lot of empty shelves but I was surprised by how much was still there!” Sam laughs right along with him.

  Rob heads west out of the lot. “This seems like a better route back home.”

  “God it’s so quiet. Let’s drive by the other house and make sure it’s okay,” I suggest.

  “Yeah, okay,
” Rob agrees, heading towards our rentals.

  “Let’s check the fruit trees,” I suggest. We continue on Lorraine Highway. We slow down, pulling into the driveway behind Rob’s pickup. “It looks okay, doesn’t it?” I ask, hesitant.

  “It looks fine!” Sam agrees.

  “Stephen, you guys take the watch.” Rob says, opening the door as we pile out.

  “Sure,” Stephen agrees.

  We stroll to the trees. “The persimmons don’t look ripe, do they?” Sam asks.

  “It doesn’t look like it. Wait, there’s one over here that might be ripe.” I walk towards the south side of the tree. I pick the brightest one and taste it. “Mmmm, good. We should be able to pick a fair number from this side.”

  Sam follows me. “What about the apples?” She picks one, biting into it. “Oooh, these are great! What kind are they?”

  “Cripps Pink.” I keep picking the persimmons. We found some 5-gallon plastic buckets, abandoned in the yard.

  “This is so cool, being able to pick fresh fruit this time of year!” Sam exclaims, helping me top off the persimmons bucket with apples. Back in the truck, we’re jamming buckets of apples and persimmons onto our laps since our space is limited. We were disappointed the pears were all gone.

  “Anybody else feel less stressed heading back onto the road?” Rob asks, crunching on an apple.

  “You know it!” Stephen agrees.

  “God! Is anyone hungry? We forgot to eat lunch!” I can hardly believe it. I shove the bucket of apples over, trying to find the mini cooler at my feet with the sandwiches.

  “Hey, watch it, girl, you’re squishing me!” Sam complains, teasingly.

  “Better squished than starved!” I tickle her just a little, knowing she has to hold the buckets and can’t fight back.

  “You bitch!” She gasps, elbowing me.

  I stick a sandwich in her mouth. “But a Jewish mother bitch is better than just any bitch!” I pass sandwiches to the others, eating as we drive west towards home.

  “God, this was so much worse when we came awhile back!” Sam has a sound of wonder in her voice. “It’s eerily quiet, isn’t it?” The conversations dies down as we drive through empty streets, empty yards, and apparently empty houses. Soon we crest a hill, topped with large empty houses, huge evergreens and oaks full of autumn leaves.

  “It’s peculiar!” I agree.

  “Nice driving though, let me tell you!” Rob chuckles.

  We turn on Todd Street, grateful to be home. “Wow, that truck looks huge on this residential street!” I remark, admiring the Lowe’s truck, filling up nearly half the road.

  Thirty-Five

  Eliana

  Back Home

  Family and friends pour out of the house as we drive up. Katie rushes to the back of the truck, opening the canopy door. “How is she?”

  “Out right now. She has some broken bones. Let’s get her inside.” Jonathan and Katie take Morgan inside.

  “¿Como está ella?” Jose asks, coming up to me.

  “She’s traumatized and scared,” I tell him. “She escaped him!”

  “¿Y tu, como estás?” He cups my elbow, whispers close to my ear, asking if I’m alright.

  I explain that I’m okay physically. Everyone starts unloading the truck. I grip a bucket of fruit, finding Portia beside me grasping another.

  “I’m glad you’re okay,” She says quietly beside me. “I was worried.” She slips something in my back pocket. “Read that later, okay?”

  I look at her questioningly, “Okay.”

  “Hey Mom, what did you get?” Gracie peers into my bucket. “Oooh, the persimmons. I wonder if ours are ready. Did you get the apples too?”

  “Of course, silly. Go get a bucket!” The youth traipse out to the truck for more buckets.

  Later, we’re all inside, the truck unloaded, the food crammed into storage. The cellar is full. Those who aren’t busy with a project join us in the living room to catch up. Katie and Jonathan are noticeably absent.

  “Does the truck lock?” I ask Justin, thinking about the Rasheen’s warning.

  “It does,” he assures me.

  “I’m thinking we use it as storage for food, maybe even think about parking it in front of Nadir’s house, put some first aid supplies in it, some basics for each member, but leave space for the people, in case something bad happens and we need to leave.” I look around at each, thankful that the younger one’s among us have chosen other activities.

  “We can work on that but I don’t think there’s any rush, do you?” Rob asks the others at the table.

  “It doesn’t hurt to be prepared,” Sam backs me up.

  “It seems like continuing with the barbed wire around our compound should be a priority,” Stephen suggests. The group goes back and forth, choosing priorities.

  “One group could focus on the fence, another on loading the truck and moving it?” I ask. That idea reaches consensus.

  “God, I’m starving!” Sam exclaims.

  “Dinner is just about ready!” Dixie chirps.

  After dinner, Jonathan taps me on the shoulder, “could you join me out back? I’d like to talk to you, Jose, Rob, and Sam.”

  “Okay.” I catch Jose’s eye across the table and motion out back. He nods, understanding. “Hey Sam, let’s go check on the chickens…” She gets my drift, following me with Jonathan and Rob. We grab coats bundling up. “What’s up?”

  Jonathan doesn’t say a word until we’re all crowded in the chicken coop. The chickens don’t seem very happy with our intrusion. They shuffle about on their perches. “I wanted to talk to you guys. Morgan woke up briefly, terrified. She said he told her that if she escaped, he would hunt her down, kill her, and her whole community. I don’t know if there is any way he could find us, but we need a plan.”

  “Oh, my God!” The light goes on regarding the warning I received earlier. “When we were driving to the liquor store earlier, I got a message from Rasheen, telling me to be careful because he’ll find us.” I feel a hitch in my chest, focusing on the raw wood of the chicken coop. I look at the straw on the floor. “I think we need to take her fears very seriously. The real question is: do we leave before he gets here, or do we try to prepare enough for when they come?”

  “He might not find us,” Jose insists.

  “I’m being told he will find us. Whether it’s true or not, we should be prepared,” I affirm.

  “Better safe than sorry,” Rob agrees.

  “Definitely,” Sam adds.

  “We may be hesitant about mom’s spiritual beliefs,” Jonathan says. “ We don’t have to believe she heard a warning, but it would be negligent to ignore the possibility.” Jonathan addresses everyone’s thoughts.

  “Okay. Fair enough,” Rob agrees. “Let’s add that to the work groups for tomorrow. Right now, I have to get on guard shift.”

  “I’m with you.” Jose follows Rob out of the coop.

  “I don’t think we can keep this from the others. We need to make sure everyone’s Bug-Out-Bags are ready and each person has basic supplies in the eighteen-wheeler,” Rob emphasizes.

  “I guess you’re right,” Jose agrees reluctantly. He’s always trying to protect the kids, despite them being adults. Times are changing, everyone needs to informed about the severity of the situation. I let out a pent-up breath as we traipse back towards the house. We enter to a noisy household debating having a dance party.

  “Guys, hold up.” Jonathan quiets the troops. “We’ve had a heavy day with Morgan’s abduction and we need to have a meeting. I don’t think it’s going to be safe to have a dance party for a while.” Everyone settles down somewhat.

  “We need to update you on a new development,” I say, firmly and loudly to get everyone’s attention. The room quiets down, some are sitting, many are standing, but all are present. Rob, Jose, and Jonathan pull up kitchen chairs.

  “I think you all know that Morgan was attacked today,” Rob begins.

  “He thr
eatened her, that if she got away, he would find her and kill her along with her community,” Jonathan explains.

  “We need to make sure that guard groups have infrared vision sensors with them always,” Rob continues. “Tomorrow we’ll start loading supplies into our big truck, move it to Nadir’s house. We hope that if something bad happens, we’ll be able to meet at the truck to escape.”

  “We’ll make sure everyone’s Bug-Out-Bags are prepped, each person has basic supplies in the truck, and room to sit. I don’t know what else we can do to prepare, except maybe more shooting lessons…” I express my concern.

  “That’s a good point. We need to have more target practice. Does anyone else have any ideas?” Rob invites ideas.

  “I think we should have a watchman on the house next door, visible to the main road, to provide an early warning system,” Justin suggests.

  “We have walkie talkies to communicate, so information can be transmitted quickly,” Stephen adds.

  More ideas are tossed around. Another crew volunteers to fill this new need, heading off to the house next door to see if Eighteenth Street can be viewed from there.

  “I’ll build up the fire,” Jose offers.

  “So, it sounds like we should postpone the dancing. Damn!” Sam summarizes.

  We play games, until bedtime comes around. I stop by Gracie and Eli’s rooms after hugging and expressing love to Jonathan and Alex. I hug them, express my love, then head to my room.

  When I get to my room, take my pants off, shake them out to fold them, and put them away, a paper falls on the floor. I’d completely forgotten the thing Portia stuck in my pocket. It looks like a letter. I put my pajamas on, climbing in bed next to Gini. “Good night, sweetheart. Sweet dreams.” She’s nearly asleep. I curl up on my side, retrieve a flashlight from my bed side table and open the letter.

  Elli,