Finding Shelter

9

Terry still couldn’t believe his luck. It was almost as if the stars had all aligned to give him just exactly what he’d wanted.

It hadn’t been that long after he’d come up with his plan that this girl had delivered herself right to him.

She hadn’t been the least bit suspicious. Not after the initial meeting. She’d marched right alongside him all the way to his house.

It was almost sad, hearing her talk for so long about all the kinds of games she wanted to play with his daughter.

Oh, he listened. He lent her a good ear. And he even chimed in with stories of his daughter. Real stories. Telling this girl Sadie all about the types of games she liked to play, and all the fun they’d have together.

Now, Terry was a quick thinker. But not as quick as he would have liked. After all, he did have to come up with his plan more or less on the spot.

He’d never kidnapped anyone before, so he carefully ran through the plan in his head as this girl, Sadie, jabbered on happily about all kinds of things.

It was nice that Sadie was also happy, now that she seemed to trust him so much, to tell him all about the camp where she lived.

Now, Terry knew all about Georgia, Sadie’s mother. About Max. About John, and Cynthia, everyone else.

He knew about it all.

And he was boiling inside when he heard about it all. He didn’t let on to Sadie. Not in the least bit. But he knew that her mother and the other adults were the people who were responsible for stealing all the supplies in the area. They were the ones who were completely responsible for the downfall of Terry and his family. They were the ones who had kept Terry on a starvation-level diet.

And meanwhile, while the girl talked, Terry concocted his plan.

One option was to bring Sadie into the house with his wife and daughter, with Olivia and Lilly. There’d really be no need to actually “kidnap” her in the traditional sense. He could just let her play with Lilly. Then when Sadie wanted to go home, he could make up some lie about why she couldn’t return.

That probably wasn’t the best idea. Sooner or later, Sadie would insist on returning home. And then what? He’d have to tie her up? In front of his daughter?

He didn’t want to expose Lilly to that kind of stuff. Not if he could help it.

And Terry doubted that his wife would approve. She had always been a gentle soul. Much like himself.

But now he was willing to do what it took. He’d do anything to keep his family alive.

He’d stoop to new lows. It was fine. He was OK with the morality of it.

But he didn’t want his wife to see him like that. Doing these things.

Better to keep Sadie somewhere else. He’d make sure she couldn’t get away.

He’d keep her alive. Visit her once a day. Give her food and water. Treat her like a pet or a plant.

It’d work out. It had to.

Surely Sadie’s mother cared too much about her to lose her. Surely she’d do anything to get her daughter back. Surely Sadie’s mother would be willing to pay any price.

And if Sadie’s mother was anything like Terry’s wife, she wouldn’t think to stoop to violence. Terry would be safe from the mother’s wrath, because that’s just now how modern mothers were.

Stories of mothers doing anything for their children were from older times. Modern mothers were different. More willing to weep in quiet than to take action. At least’s that’s how Terry’s mother had been. And how Terry’s wife currently was.

“And then Max told the guy to get lost,” Sadie was saying. Terry hadn’t been listening. “The guy didn’t want to do it, but he took one look at Max and realized he didn’t want to mess with him.” Sadie cackled gleefully. She clearly thought a lot of this Max.

“Sounds like he’s pretty fearsome,” said Terry, speaking almost automatically, as he strategized trying to think of his next move.

“Oh, he is,” said Sadie.

Mentally, Terry rolled his eyes.

He doubted Max was really that fearsome. Or scary at all. As far as Terry was concerned, Max was just a thief who was stealing the food that belonged to everyone, namely Terry and his family.

Terry was sure that Sadie’s impression of Max was just a child dreaming that their adult hero was much more capable than he was in reality.

Terry wasn’t scared of Max. Or Sadie’s mother. Or any of the other thieves. He could handle them.

And after all, no one even knew where Terry lived. Or where he’d taken Sadie.

“Are you OK, Terry?” said Sadie.

“Huh? Yeah. Why?”

“You seem a little distant.”

“My stomach hurts,” lied Terry.

It was a childish lie. A childish lie for a child.

“It does?” said Sadie.

“Yeah,” said Terry.

His mind was racing. Where was he going to take Sadie? It had to be somewhere that was close to his house. Close enough that he could visit. But not far enough away that it took too long. Not far enough that he couldn’t keep an eye on her.

And how was he going to get the word out to Sadie’s mother? It wasn’t like he could send a text message.

A letter, he guessed. He’d have to send a letter.

“It doesn’t seem like your stomach hurts.”

“Uh-huh,” muttered Terry.

“You’re being weird,” said Sadie.

Terry just nodded, not really listening.

How was he going to keep Sadie captive, anyway? He wished he’d have more time for this plan. Underfed and starving, it didn’t seem like his mind was working as well as it should have.

He didn’t have chains, did he?

Rope? He couldn’t remember.

But there must have been some around the house. Maybe his wife would know.

But then how would he keep Sadie in one place, without exposing her to his wife first?

“Are we almost there?” said Sadie.

It was the classic kid question. His own daughter had asked it relentlessly on car trips. Before the EMP, of course. Now, there was nowhere to go, and no way to get there.

“We’re almost there, yeah,” said Terry.

“How much longer?”

Terry seemed to wake up. He took stock of his surroundings and realized all of a sudden that they were very close to his home.

“Just a couple more minutes.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

They were crossing an empty street, about to head down a row of small abandoned suburban homes.

They’d never been fancy homes before the EMP. They were the homes of regular people. Blue-collar workers. Honest folks, who’d cared for their property, but hadn’t had the money or desire to make their home look like it was something out of a catalog. Instead, things had been kept practical and useful.

Now, the homes had been mostly destroyed.

Terry didn’t know who had done it. But he knew when it had happened. Only a couple months ago. After the masses of people from the cities had died off. And a long time after the EMP itself.

The damage done to the homes was senseless. Pointless.

Windows were smashed in. Shuttered ripped off.

People had climbed up on the roofs and dropped heavy things onto them. They had ripped up shingles.

Bushes and shrubs were torn up. Stomped on.

Front doors were smashed in. Hacked to bits with axes.

Mailboxes were scattered along the street.

The only thing missing was graffiti. Probably because no one had spray paint. Or because it wasn’t destructive enough. Who knew?

It looked like the work of particularly destructive teenagers.

And maybe it was.

It looked like the scene out of some post-apocalyptic movie.

But, in the movies, the world immediately turned into a scene like the one before them. In real life, it hadn’t worked like that.

Sure, things had been destroyed. But sheerly by mistake. By accident. By chaos. Not on purpose.

And why had these homes been so pointlessly attacked, months and months after the EMP?

Terry didn’t know, but his guess was that it had to do with the despair and rage that he himself felt. The others must have felt it as well. Maybe there’d been men and women who’d known their time was up, who’d known that they didn’t have many days left. Maybe they’d had nothing, absolutely nothing, to direct their anger at. And then they’d come across those houses, standing there, like little reminders of the lives that they’d once had, or been promised.

“What’s with all those houses?” said Sadie.

“Don’t know,” muttered Terry. “Not important.”

“I thought you said we were almost there.”

“We are.”

“Are you lying?” There was some distrust in her voice.

Was she starting to suspect something was up?

No. It couldn’t be. After all, he’d given her no reason to suspect anything.

They were extremely close to Terry’s house.

“Of course I’m not lying, Sadie,” said Terry. “See that over there?”

“What?”

“That big shed in that backyard?”

“Yeah.”

“We’re going to walk right past that. And then my house is across another long lawn. We’re cutting through the backyards.”

Sadie gave him a suspicious look.

“Well,” said Terry. “I’m going. Either come with me, or I’ll walk you back to your mom.”

“No, I’m coming,” said Sadie, picking up her pace again.

Terry smiled inwardly. Then became nervous again, while trying to hide it.

His brain was rapidly moving through plans.

Finally, he settled on one.

Terry’s tired legs carried him in long strides, with Sadie following him, past the shed, and onto his property.

It was a little house. Out of the way of the vandals. Nothing fancy. Nothing spectacular. Nothing to attract any attention.

“They don’t know you’re coming,” said Terry, pausing outside on the lawn. “I don’t want to scare them.”

“Scare them?” said Sadie. “I’m not going to scare anyone.”

“We haven’t had visitors in a long time,” said Terry. “And that gun of yours might scare my daughter.”

“She doesn’t have a gun?”

“My wife didn’t think it was a good idea. And we’ve done better with hiding than with fighting so far.”

“I’ll leave my gun outside,” said Sadie.

It was clear in her eyes that she was desperate to meet Lilly.

Too bad that it’d never happen.

“Maybe that’d work,” said Terry, feigning momentary confusion. “But let me just go inside and tell them you’re coming. OK? Can you wait out here for a minute?”

“Of course,” said Sadie, putting on a face that made her look ready to please.

“I’ll be right back,” said Terry. “Don’t leave.”

“I won’t,” said Sadie.

Terry turned his back and started walking towards his front door. Behind it, he knew his wife would be waiting.

Terry dug his key out of his pocket, but before he could put it in the lock, the door opened.

His wife’s weary, emaciated face stared back at him. There were dark circles under her eyes.

She looked terrified. But she smiled.

“Olivia,” he said. “Rope. Quickly. Get me some rope.”

She didn’t say anything. They had been through these kinds of tense moments before together. From experience, they both knew that the best way to survive was to simply provide the other with what they asked for. Or do what the other said.

She turned her back. A moment later, she turned back around, strong rope in her hands.

Terry grabbed it.

Now he had what he needed.

“Shut the door,” he said.

Terry turned on his heel and marched back out the door, determination in his stride.

He could do this.

He needed to do this.

It was for his family. For his survival.

He was the man of the house, after all. He needed to set things right. No matter what it took.