Considerable Destruction Series (Book 1): Evasion (

by Hernandez, Erica

  I wish I had done this before; writing to apologize and let you know I love you. Since the outbreak, I have been working harder to compose my thoughts.

  I cannot imagine the excruciating pain you suffered losing Rasheen. I imagine it may be painful to you that he and I were close those last couple years.

  He shared about his childhood and I know you were a young parent then, making mistakes, as every parent does. I encourage you to forgive yourself for any decisions you may have made that were painful for him. Acknowledge how far you've come as it has become so clear to me. This is so important.

  I need to apologize to you, because I have been so unkind. I struggle immensely judging and criticizing others as well as myself, and I know you have been the focus of those nasty attitudes of mine. I am so sorry. Please know that it's something I work on daily. I am terribly sorry for how much I have hurt you.

  Now with my husband and our sister’s passing, our niece-in-law and their child’s horrific murder, it feels so important to me to put aside our differences, work hard on our challenges, and acknowledge the meaning of our family ties. I love and care about you, and hope you feel the same.

  In caring,

  Portia

  I realize I’m crying as the tears fill my left ear, dripping down my neck. Why would I care if they were close? I think. I suffered because he died. Does she really think I blame myself at all? The very thought upsets me.

  I read it a second time, realizing she loves me, is acknowledging it, while I wasn’t clear she even cared for me. I always felt such disdain from her, yet am humbled by her loving words, grateful that she’s still alive, and we have a chance to work on our relationship.

  Thirty-Six

  Simon

  Falling

  God, Simon thinks, I slept like shit last night! This crap we’re dealing with sucks. Every time things seem to get better, they just get worse after that. I’m so sick of this bullshit. I barely start getting close with Morgan and now she’s injured and under medical surveillance. They say she’ll be okay physically but she’s going to be traumatized.

  He drags himself out of bed. Luckily, no one’s in the bathroom so he can get his head under the shower, which isn’t hot or powerful, but it’ll wake him up.

  He strolls over to Eliana’s to check in. “How is Morgan doing?” He asks, walking into the kitchen.

  “She woke up once, I think,” Maddie answers. “Would you open this jar?”

  “Sure.” He takes it from her, opens it, and hands it back. “Applesauce? What are you making for breakfast?”

  “Oatmeal,” She answers. “There’s a little bit of triticale meal. Eliana’s going to try that and see if her stomach handles it better.”

  “Nice of you to think of her. You want me to set the table?” She hands Simon plates. After setting the table, he heads into the living room to check on Morgan. “How’s she doing?”

  “She’s healing,” Katie responds.

  Morgan opens her eyes. She looks at him, makes eye contact, then looks down, apparently ashamed.

  “You know it wasn’t your fault,” Simon tells her. “That guy is just a fuckin’ dickhead!” He can’t believe she feels at fault in this. But of course, that mother fucker wants her to feel guilty. Tears leak from her eyes. He kneels down, reaching out to brush them, gently, away. “It’s not your fault,” he whispers in her ear. “You’re just a casualty of his insanity. You were so brave to escape! You’re amazing!”

  She looks up with a tiny smile and tears in her eyes.

  “Breakfast is ready.” Maddie calls.

  He remains by Morgan, gently brushing her hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ears. He wipes her tears away, caressing her cheek in the process. Her skin is smooth, soft. “I’ll check on you, later,” He tells her gruffly, then heads to the table to eat. “Anything happen last night?”

  “It was quiet. It may take him a while. We’re damn sure we injured him. He may want to heal up a bit first,” Rob states.

  “So, our priority today is Bug-Out-Bags, the truck, and the fence line?” Simon asks. “Do you think the fence line will make any difference with that creep?”

  “Better to make it harder for him,” Stephen points out.

  After breakfast they divide into groups after everyone reviews their Bug-Out-Bags with Sam or Rob overseeing for contents. Rob assigns a rotation plan to load thing to the truck. Everyone gets a chance to put a small bag of stuff there for themselves in case they can’t get their bag to the truck.

  They spend the whole morning, moving buckets, boxes, and cans of food from the shop, chicken coop, and garage to the truck. “We should cover the cellar door with something that looks like flooring, so if we leave, maybe they won’t find our food before we can come back and take them out!” Simon laughs. “They don’t know who they’re messing with.”

  “That’s a great idea!” Jose is all over that. He heads out back while the rest continue loading the truck, each taking a bag of their own stuff to the truck. When they return, Jose has set an armload of flooring supplies by the cellar door. It’s kind of recessed into the flooring and Simon sees the possibility of his half-joking idea take form.

  “Wow, you’re really going to do that?”

  “I’m going to try,” Jose agrees.

  Rob joins him on the floor, brainstorming ideas while Simon takes another load to the truck.

  “You think they’re really going to figure out how to disguise that door?” Nate asks Simon, carrying a box of canned goods.

  “If anyone can figure it out, my papá can,” Eli says, confidently.

  They pack more boxes into the half-full truck. “I think we should see how many will fit in here. We can get three up front, so we want to get thirty people back here.” Simon climbs in, motioning them to follow. Three of them sit with their backs against the supplies, then various places, trying to figure out how much space they need.

  “We need to get some more people to test this out. It’s hard to tell with just us three,” Nate suggests.

  “Yeah, man, we sure as shit do.” Simon climbs out of the truck, surveys the empty street, and heads to the house. Entering the house, he says, “Hey everyone, party in the truck!” Simon waltzes into the kitchen. “Gracie, Dixie, Maddie, Bree, we need help measuring space in the truck for evacuation.”

  “Okay,” They chorus, following.

  “Where’s our moms? They should come.” Simon rounds up a few more in the living rooms before returning to the truck. Eliana, Sam, and some others follow along, piling into the truck, sitting along walls to get a sense of space.

  “It looks like we could put some more supplies in the middle of this section,” Simon decides.

  “I think you’re right,” Sam agrees, patting him on the back. “Nice work! We’ve got two trucks over here and ought to bring the RV.”

  Thirty-Seven

  Eliana

  Planning Stage

  I fell asleep fast, dead tired last night. I woke up at 4:30 in the morning, restless, unable to sleep, worrying about the Crown Killer, and thinking about Portia’s letter. Insomnia had me in its grips, fearing the Killer’s impending attack.

  I’ve been meditating for an hour, might have dozed for a few minutes, but haven’t actually slept. I manifest safety and security, discovering a feeling of foreboding. Should we give up and leave? Is it safe to stay? Will Portia become a supportive sister? The thoughts won’t let me rest, so I climb out of bed, weary with lack of sleep, get dressed, do yoga, and head for the kitchen.

  For the first time, I’m the only one here. People are still sleeping on the living room floor and it’s cold. I tiptoe quickly back to my bedroom and put wool socks on. I check the thermometer in the hall and find it has dropped to 53 degrees. It is likely cooler than that in the bedroom. I head back down to the kitchen, finding it slightly warmer. I check the fire quietly so as not to wake those sleeping nearby on the floor. There are no embers left. I arrange a log cabin style fire, lig
hting it, adding another log on top, shutting the wood stove.

  “Good morning,” Stephen says quietly. “It will be warmer to get up after a few minutes. Thanks!”

  “I couldn’t sleep and it’s pretty damned cold in here,” I whisper. “I’m going to see about breakfast. You want to get up and help?”

  “Sure. Just give me a minute.”

  I head into the kitchen, checking our egg supply, turning on the stove, starting water for tea, prepared to turn it off before it whistles. There aren’t enough eggs. Better to save them for another day. I take out potatoes and sun chokes, then find bacon in the freezer.

  “What can I do?” Stephen asks. He often cooked for my sister so I know he’ll be a good help in the kitchen.

  “I thought I’d make two big frying pans, one with sun chokes, one with potatoes. We can add onions, garlic, bacon, a little egg, some olives, and pickles. What do you think?”

  “That sounds fabulous! Where are the onions?”

  We start prepping the root vegetables while I start cooking the bacon. More community trickles into the kitchen.

  “You want me to make coffee and tea? I’m the one who’s on kitchen duty today,” Sam offers.

  “Okay. I just woke up early so I thought I’d get started. I couldn’t go back to sleep. I kept worrying about that creep out there. Do you think we should consider just leaving, going to the rentals, or the country?”

  “There aren’t that many of them. I hate to give this place up with all the work we’ve done and supplies we’ve collected. What about you?” she asks Stephen.

  “I don’t want to leave.” Stephen shakes his head. “We left home already. That creep could destroy things.”

  “If we planned, we could take the animals with us, but we won’t be able to take everything.” I am pulled in two directions.

  “I want to stay,” Jose says, entering the kitchen.

  “I don’t want to run!” Rob says harshly walking in just then.

  “None of us does,” Sam agrees.

  “I don’t know.” I look down. “I’m partial to staying too. I mean this is my home. But what about everyone else? Maybe we should bring this up at breakfast and vote?” I feel concerned with my bias. Even though it’s my house, with all my things in the drawers, part of me wants to leave.

  “Good idea,” Stephen agrees.

  “We should leave strategically,” Rob suggests, “or make it look like we’re gone, and watch from one of the houses behind here, with a higher view point. We could watch from a distance, plucking them off!”

  “We’d need as many different spots as he has guys or they’d just come find us.” Sam points out.

  “How many supporters do you think he has?” I ask, thinking about how they chased them down.

  “Seven, eight max, right?” He looks at Sam.

  “Yeah, eight max.” She looks back at me. “Let’s table this until we get to the table!!” She laughs at the double entendre.

  I’m mixing the roots with the onions and bacon. Sam is cutting olives and pickles which I sprinkle around both skillets. “I think I’m going to add eggs to this. There aren’t very many, but even a few will be good.” Sam goes to the fridge to get them out.

  “Cheese too?” she asks. Hopefully, there are more eggs outside but there won’t be very many at this time of year.

  “Definitely! Could you grate it? I want to sprinkle some over the top.” My stomach is growling with hunger.

  Soon we’re ready to serve. “You go drink your tea. You weren’t supposed to be cooking this morning!” Sam teases me, play kicking me out of the kitchen. “Go on! Get!”

  “Okay, okay, I’m getting!” People have been coming through to their respective jobs. It’s still early as the sun begins to rise. I get milk, sitting at the table with my Teeccino, grateful we found more. Jose comes into the kitchen from the back door.

  “Is there coffee? Oooh, thanks. Mmmm!” He moans over the skillet.

  “Tell Eliana. She did most of it!” Sam laughs. “Breakfast is ready to serve. Would you tell the others who are working outside?”

  “Claro que si!” Jose agrees heartily, slurping some coffee.

  Soon the table is full of early risers. Sam made some oatmeal so there would be enough for our entire community. There is light conversation while people eat. As the plates empty and more of the community shows up, Rob opens the discussion regarding evacuation. Jedaiah climbs into my lap, snuggling.

  “I’m sure you know that Morgan was kidnapped while we were out. She escaped, but was threatened before she got away. We’re concerned that her attacker may find us. We’re going to vote on a potential evacuation plan. Before you vote, feel free to ask questions.”

  People traipse in from the back. “We couldn’t hear everything back there. Can you go over that one more time?” Justin asks.

  Rob agrees, repeats himself, then opens the discussion up for questions.

  “What makes you think he’ll find us?” Portia asks.

  Sam looks pointedly at me and I cover Jedaiah’s ears. “We really don’t know if he will, only that he threatened her that he would find us, killing us all,” Sam explains.

  “We’ve crossed paths with him a couple of times, making us suspect he could have followed us or had us under surveillance. We just can’t be sure that this compound will stay safe,” I add.

  “If we decide to stay, we’re deciding to fight and possibly kill, right?” Justin clarifies.

  “We’d have to do that, yeah,” Rob agrees.

  “So, we probably need more information in our voting,” Maddie clarifies. “We need people to say if they’re willing to fight. If so, we’ll need names.”

  “Good point,” I acknowledge. We need to have enough people who are willing to defend our home. “We can prepare to flee, but have to be ready to fight,” I agree.

  “Do you know how many he has?” Nate asks.

  “We know how many we saw, eight men. It’s possible he has more or that he’ll find more,” Rob explains. We keep fielding questions while people scrounge their minds and feelings for what they need to know. When it quiets down, Rob asks. “Are you all ready to vote?”

  There are mumbles of ascent. Sam passes a yogurt container around for their answers. Then she takes each scrap of paper out, dividing them between stay and go piles. Maddie scoops Jedaiah up when he stops eating to take him outside. “It looks like most are staying but a few want to go.”

  “Those who stay will need a plan of defense,” I clarify.

  “You all who want to leave can go to Polyrock Ranch and we’ll continue with our evacuation plan,” Rob suggests.

  “That’s a good idea. I don’t want anyone forced into something they aren’t comfortable with,” I validate him. Once the papers are sorted, it’s clear that many are willing to stay to secure our compound. Only a few want to leave. “We could try to plan another trip to Polyrock to rotate people. What do you think?” I propose.

  “They could come while we’re gone…” Rob is hesitant. More debating ensues.

  “Maybe those who want to leave could drive themselves?” Savannah asks. “Then, if other residents want to return, they could bring the truck. We could let them know what’s going on so they’re prepared with weapons ready?”

  “Yeah!” Faith emphasizes. This suggestion gains consensus.

  “Okay, we’ll set you up with a truck, supplies, and shotguns,” Rob agrees, getting up to prepare.

  “Are you sure Oliver and the kids can travel?” I feel concerned. “Some of you will have to be able to work when you get there.”

  “We can work,” Spencer says, firmly. “Your comfrey salve is helping a lot.” His sister nods.

  “I can work also. I need to be busy to cope with my grief,” Savannah adds. “Oliver has been upright a couple hours so he’s recovering.”

  “Mom, if you guys can live without me, I’m going to harvest the marijuana before it’s too late,” Alex reminds me.

  �
��You’re right. I hate for you to leave, but that is important for all of us.” They get packed with Faith and Alex. Morgan catches my eye.

  “I would like to go with them. I’m already up and I’m able to work and I’m terrified of staying here!” She has tears in her eyes.

  “Oh, Morgan!” I pull her in for a hug. “Of course, you can go!”

  Rob comes up as she heads off to pack, saying, “I’m going to move our vehicles over to Nadir’s place. Keeping them here doesn’t make sense right now.”

  “True,” I confer. There’s a flurry of people leaving the main room, those who are leaving to pack, and those who are staying to divide into work groups. One heads out to check the fence line is secure. I’m on kitchen duty, meeting with the team to make bread, yogurt, and lunch. Another group checks the Bug-Out-Bags, guns, and ammo, others go relieve the guards currently on duty.

  “Is there enough bread that we could make sandwiches in case there’s some delay on the road?” Savannah asks, walking into the kitchen.

  “Absolutely! You can certainly take what there is. Would you like help making them?” I ask, touching her shoulder.

  “Would you?” She hugs me. “You guys have been great to us. I really appreciate it. We’re terrified about bumping into this guy again. I appreciate your understanding.”

  “Of course.” We all work together to get sandwiches made. “We should pack up some dried goods too, with nut mix and granola bars.” She and I pack a couple boxes of things they can use on the way or upon arrival.

  “Bon Voyage!” We wave at them as they leave, then return to our cooking projects. “I’ll miss Wolf, he’s been a great dog!”

  “Yeah, he’s a sweetie.” Gracie and Bree agree.

  We work hard in the kitchen, then the dogs, Sheba and Mike, rush the window, growling. “What is it, Sheba?” I grab a gun, cautiously heading to the front room. “Girls, stay back here and get a weapon in case!” I’m looking out the front window from an angle so I won’t be easily seen. Both dogs are barking now. There’s a strange truck in front. I doubt it’s the Crown Killer. “Oh, my God! That’s Nate and some guys from up the hill! It’s safe, ladies.” I open the door to greet them. “Hi guys, come on in!”