Becca (3 page)

Then the fire alarm went off. Everyone rushed from the classrooms. I hurried down the hallway and found Tasha near our lockers. She was shaking and had her hands up to her face.

“Tasha!”

“Becca!” She thrust her arms around me. “What’s happening? Becca, what is going on?”

“We need to get home.”  

“Mom and Dad...”

“I’m sure they’re fine. They’re over there, not here in harm's way like we are.”

“I have to call them.”

“You really think you’ll be able to get through? Probably so many people calling right now that there’s no way. We have to go, Tash.”

“Okay. I... I’m kinda scared.”

“I know, honey, but it’s going to be okay.”

Right. Lie to her, Rebecca. Those people were dying. That was in Florida, I think. And we’re being sent home all the way here in Kansas. Whatever is going on, the government obviously thinks it might reach us. Sure, things are going to be okay. Except for the people dying. Except for people with their faces melting off.

It was crazy outside. Cars were going everywhere, the parking lot was jammed up with cars banging into each other. Natasha was crying so hard I thought I’d have to take over and drive, even though I just have a learner’s permit. But she held it together enough, and we found a low curb to drive over. We crossed the school yard, dodging running students, to emerge onto the side street.

It was almost as crazy at the middle school. I didn’t know how we were going to find Bridget. But there she was, running with some other kids down the sidewalk toward home.

“Bridget!” I shouted out the window as we passed. Tasha swerved to the curb.

“Becca, what’s going on?” she shouted back. Before I could even get out of the car she was grabbing me in a hug. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, Bridge. We need to get home.”

“Are we being bombed?”

“I don’t know, we just need to get home.”  

“Can we drop Amber and David on the way?”

“Sure, I guess. Just get in.”

We sped down the road, dodging kids who ignored crosswalks and didn’t care about traffic. We pulled in front of Bridget’s friends’ house. I wasn’t just going to drop these kids off. They’re like Bridget’s age, and they’re scared. I walked with them up to the door and we went inside. There was nobody there.

“When will your parents be home?” I asked the girl, Amber.

“Mom doesn’t work.” she said. She had tears running down her face. “I don’t know where she’s at. Dad drives a truck, he’s in Nebraska somewhere this week.”

“Well I can’t leave you here.” I said. “Write a note to your mom telling her you’ll be at our house. Hurry up.”

“We shouldn’t leave.” David said. “Mom wouldn’t want us going somewhere without permission.”

“You’re not staying here.” I told him.

“But...”

“Shut up, David!” Amber snapped at him. “Get me some paper.”

“Bridget, go tell Tasha we’ll be a couple of minutes.”

David got paper and Amber started writing her note. He turned the television on and flipped through channels. They were all showing the same exact broadcast.

“It says people are getting sick in Illinois.” he said.

“What do you mean sick?” I asked.

“Look.” He pointed at the screen. “People are stumbling around, acting like they don’t know anyone.”

“Come on, we need to go. You done with that note, Amber?”

“Yeah. We should leave it on the table in the...”

“Well hurry. We’ll be in the car. Come on David.”

We hurried home, where Mom was waiting. She was crying and staring at the news. She hugged me and Bridget, and even Tasha. She kind of stared at the other two for a minute.

“What is this?” I asked her.

“They attacked us. Some kind of fog, some chemicals. A lot of people... they’re dying. Everywhere. We’re launching nukes at North Korea, and against the camps we know of in Ukraine, but we can’t do much there or in Saudi Arabia because our allies are too close.”

“Are we safe here?” Bridget asked.

“I don’t know, honey. Whatever was in those bombs is causing people to get sick. They say the sick ones lose their mind, start attacking and biting everyone.”

“Well the army is going to stop them, right?” Amber asked her.

“I don’t think there’s much they can do. The President says stay in your houses and keep the doors locked for a few days. They hope it will die down by then and they can get control.”

Amber kept trying to call her mother, but the lines were all busy. The rest of us huddled around the television, watching the same news repeat over and over again. Every now and then a new story would come on about illness somewhere, usually closer than last time, or a new analyst would come on telling us what to do.

The power went out. And then the storm sirens started wailing. I didn’t even know they could with the power out, but they were blaring away. Whatever was happening, it was happening here now. Everyone was crying and panicking at that point. Even Mom. Everyone was looking to her for what to do, and she was in full on panic mode.

“Everyone just calm down.” I said. I rubbed my own tears away and tried to force myself to be calm. “Tasha, Bridget, check to make sure all the windows and doors are locked. Mom, get everyone some water and something to eat, okay? Mom, you hear me?”

“Yeah.” she mumbled.

“You two go help her with the food.” I told Amber and David.

“What about you?” Tasha asked.

“I’ll explain later. Just don’t lock me out, okay?”

“You’re not going out there?” Mom asked. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“Yes. I’ll be fine. Everybody get moving.”

I went out into the garage, over to the gun cabinet. Dad has it locked with a padlock on the front. The thing is I know where he hides the key. I felt around under the counter top, and there it was, stuck in one of those little magnetic things. I opened up the cabinet and grabbed guns and put them in a cardboard box. And then I shoved a bunch of boxes of bullets in with them. Lastly, I grabbed a shotgun. It was heavy, but I carried it toward the house.

“Tasha.” I shouted, once back inside.

“Yeah, coming.” she yelled back. She hurried in where I was, Bridget tagging along behind her.

“Keep an eye on these things. Don’t let anybody mess with them until I get back.”

“What are these for?”

“I thought you hated guns.” Bridget said.

“I do. But people are going insane. We have to protect ourselves. Nobody touches these, okay?” I glanced around to make sure we wouldn’t be overheard. “Especially Mom. She’s not well right now.”

“Got it.” Tasha said.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Where are you going?” Bridget asked. She sounds panicked again already.

“Just checking on Mr. And Mrs. Goldman.”

“Be careful.”

I hurried across the lawn, toward the neighbor’s house. I banged on their door for a couple of minutes, but they wouldn’t answer. I know they have to be home.

“Mr. Goldman. Mrs. Goldman. It’s Rebecca Lang from next door.” I banged some more. “I just wondered if you could come over and stay with us.”

I kept banging and shouting for maybe five minutes. They wouldn’t answer. These poor old people can’t stay locked up alone for several days. I don’t know how they make it one day without someone helping them. They’re old and fragile. But I can’t make them come with me.

“They won’t answer the door.” I said when I walked in back at home.

Everyone was in the living room, looking at me with that panicked look again. The guns were still in the exact same place as I left them. I took one of the hand guns and carried it over next to the where the others were seated. I sat down and tried to figure the thing out. I loathe these things, but I suppose now is a good time to get over that.

“What do we do now?” Mom asked.

“I don’t know. We wait.”

The front door rattled and everyone turned. Mom let out a little squeal, Bridget squeezed over next to me. Dad came in. Bridget jumped up and ran over to him.

“Daddy!” she shouted, jumping against him and hugging him.

“It’s okay.” he told her. He pulled himself away from her and turned to close and lock the door. “Who are these two?” Dad asked.

“Amber and David.” Bridget told him. She’s crying. “Their parents aren’t home. What’s going on, what is wrong with people?”

“It’s going to be okay.” he told her.

He nudged the box of guns with his shoe and then looked up at the rest of us. He scanned over us, and his eyes stopped on me. He glanced down at the gun in my hand. His eyes went to Mom, who is shaking and crying, then back at me. He gave a little nod.

“How is everyone doing?” he asked. He asked me, actually, because Mom was basically incoherent.

“Scared to death.” I told him.

“How are you holding up?”

“I’m okay.” I said. Tears began to flow. “Scared, but I’m okay.”

“Good. Here in a while I’ll give you a quick lesson on how to use that.” he said, nodding toward the gun.

“Mr. Lang, do you think my Mom and Dad are okay?” Tasha asked.

“I wish I knew, Natasha. I certainly hope so.” He grabbed the shotgun and started loading shells into it. “This was a good idea. Was this you, Rebecca?”

“Becca’s been so calm through all this.” Mom said. Finally she talks. “She’s known exactly what to do, she’s been so helpful.”

“Well we’re going to have to get prepared quick, so I’m glad I can count on you, Rebecca.”

“Prepared for what?” Amber asked him.

“We can’t stay here.” he said.

“But the President said...”

“The President is wrong.”

“We have to go home.” David said.

“We’ll talk about that in a while.” He walked over and reached down and Mom stuck her hand in his. She held it to her face and cried. “Bridget and Natasha, go up and start packing. Just a couple of changes of clothes.”

“Right.” Bridget said. Tasha nodded. They both stood and went upstairs.

“Honey, why don’t you take our guests into the kitchen and see if they can help you pack enough food for a few days. I’m going to show Rebecca how to use that gun.”

Mom reluctantly went into the kitchen with Amber and David. Dad sat on the sofa. He lowered his head and rubbed at his face. He’s really stressed. I guess that was stupid, we’re all stressed.

“You sort of took charge, I guess?” he asked.

“Someone had to.” I mumbled. “Mom wasn’t up to it.”

“Yes, I guessed as much. I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. Traffic is crazy out there.”  

“I know. Dad, what are we going to do?”

“We’re going to the cabin up in the mountains. Remember Uncle Bill’s cabin? We visited there about three years ago.”