The Seventh Day by Tara Brown writing as A.E. Watson Page A

of them are sobbing and shaking on the couches
as the reality of the cabin hits. We are alone. Furgus, a dog
who hates to see children cry, slips onto the couch with them, squishing them
all. They don't fight his love—they let him lie atop them, each
gripping to his thick black fur.
    I look back at the SUV, in a bit of a panic
to make them stop crying. “I’ll get my phone and see if it works up here.” I
hold the gun out for Joey. “Come watch for me while I dig the last of the crap
out of the vehicle.” She shakes her head. I nod. “I trust you.”
    She gets up, sniffling and tripping as
Furgus rubs against her slim body. Her hand shakes when she lifts it to take
the gun and I regret trusting her, instantly pulling it back. “Want me to watch
and you can dig the crap out?”
    She nods. We go out and she opens up the
back door to the SUV, getting our phones and the last bag of stuff. She closes
the door, but I hop down the stairs and grab the shotgun before she locks it.
    When we walk back up to the cabin I spend
the majority of the time scanning the area for movement beyond birds. I have
the same weird feeling in the pit of my stomach as before. I lock the door and
lean a chair against it. Joey starts trying the phone immediately.
    “Anything?”
    She shakes her head. I notice she isn’t
saying much.
    We all sit on the couch and stare at the
room filled with stuff. Stuff we need to survive. I start to fill the silence
with words I can’t control. “The cabin has a well and an outhouse. So we don’t
have to worry about where to go to the bathroom and water. The snow will come
and we can melt it if the well has any issues. I was thinking we should come
here because it’s almost winter and those people probably
can’t come here. They would freeze. We can stay safe here. We have a winter’s
supply of firewood already. My uncle and cousins always make sure the wood is
done in the summer. We have an axe and a chainsaw, and I can learn how to use
them. When things get better, we can go back. The military will
come—trust me. They will come and clean it all up. We can just wait it
out here.” I realize I’m rambling.
    Joey looks over at me. “Is Mom dead?”
    I shake my head. “No. She was sick when I
left her but I bet she’s okay. Dad will come and help her. He’s probably there
now. They’re probably on their way here.”
    Julia smiles. “With my dad.” I don’t have a
poker face so when she looks into my eyes, she sees it. “Lou?”
    I shake my head. “Your dad was really sick.
I saw him in the yard. He was bad.”
    She blinks tears from her soft-brown eyes.
“But if your mom is better, my dad is too.”
    “Okay. You’re right. He probably is.”
    I have to stop treating them like they’re
my equals. They’re children. But then again, so am I. I am not prepared for the
moment I am in. If someone kicked in the door, we would die or worse. Yes, when
you are a girl in a position like this one, there is worse and I am aware of
what worse is.
    I look at them all again. “So—from
here on out, we don’t talk to anyone. Stranger danger is worse than ever. We
don’t go into the woods alone. This is Montana—there are bears. We don’t
trust anyone but the four of us. Even if your mom walks up and smiles at you,
let me decide if she’s okay first. Deal?” They look confused or just scared,
but they agree. All three little heads nod at me. I give them all a look. “So
what should we do now?”
    Lissie sniffles. “I’m hungry.” The other
two nod.
    I laugh. “Okay. Let’s get some food and
organize what we have.” It takes a long time to get everything organized into
cabinets and cupboards. In the end, it looks like we are preppers or some kind
of freak shows like the husband on my mom’s favorite movie Sleeping with the Enemy. Of course that would have been her favorite, she was just like the
husband. She just never saw it. I hate where she sits in my brain. I want her
to be only fond