hips.
“Whatever. What does the TV say?” Devin asked. “Same ole. Stay inside. Don’t touch them. Blah blah. All coastal cities and places up and down the Mississippi are being attacked. Europe and Asia are dark. No word from Canada or Mexico,” he explained.
“How can this be? How the hell can this happen?” Devin asked inquisitively.
“Look, kids, this is war, you can both sit still and let the army take over, or you can go get yourself killed looking for Narnia. Your choice.” Stephen felt hip and cool for making pop-culture references.
“Narnia sounds nice,” Erica interjected. “But Narnia isn’t real. This is real.” She showed them the blood on her clothes.
“She’s right. This isn’t an invasion, Uncle. This is something different. Erica, go in the back room. In the closet, there’s my duffel bag. Go and get it. Start filling it with food and water. Stephen, help me take inventory of the guns. Will you do that for me?” Stephen nodded as he closed the shades.
Erica went slowly into the back room and found Devin’s army bag with his name on it. D. O’Connor was printed on the bag. Erica hoisted it over her shoulder and brought it into the living room with the men who were looking around for weapons. “It’s my bug-out bag. Everything we should need: compass, canteens, radio, solar charger, survival filters, a few medical needs, and some MREs. Erica, you can’t run in that jumpsuit. Go grab some clothes and change.” Erica did so as she was told.
She found herself back in Devin’s room. She opened his closet to find a mass array of graphic shirts and freshly pressed slacks. She unzipped her crusted bloody denim jumpsuit. She stripped down to her black bra and ripped panties. She rubbed her hands over her cold skin trying to forget Ivan and his bad breath. She looked at herself in the mirror of Devin’s small bathroom. Her red hair was pinned in her makeshift ponytail. She washed her hands and face and made her way back to the closet. She found a white wife beater and some cotton sweatpants. She found some tennis shoes in the bottom of the closet. They were far too big for her feet, but her flats had given up on her.
Devin knocked on the door to his own bedroom. Erica slowly opened the door to find the man with a broad chest looking down at her with hollow eyes. “How do they fit?” Erica smirked lightly. Her day was filled with chaos, and she did little to improve her current mood. Little did she know that her day had only just begun.
Coffee Break
Chapter 16
Monday 1455 CST
Memphis
“M ’kay. We have a bow, two long rifles, and two shotguns: Frank’s double-barrel and .357, the auto shotgun, a 9mm, a .45, and about a box of ammo apiece,” Devin said as he began to stuff things into bags. “Erica, ever used a gun?” Erica nodded silently.
“Look, we’ve all had a shitty day, but we need to leave. Stay with me. OK?” Devin said to her. Erica eyed the 9mm handgun. “Yeah, that’s a good one. Shoots straight, seventeen-round magazine, and we have a few magazines.” Stephen grabbed the .270 deer rifle. “You’re not going to do dick with that, Uncle. Take the Auto.”
“I have a better idea. You go ahead. I’ll stay here. You’re both young, and I can’t run.”
“Stephen, you know we never leave anyone behind.”
“Oh, put it up your ass. I’m sixty years old. I can’t run. I sleep with oxygen on. The docs gave me six months. I’m going out with a bang. Help me set up, and I’ll cover you while you take the back way. Find a new car, and go find your weirdo friends. I don’t know what these fucks are, but a .270 lever action to the head will ruin their day. Go to the shed, and get me some of them paint buckets and the gasoline. And meet me in the kitchen.”
Devin knew it was the only option. “You stubborn bastard. It’s like punching a donkey in the face…What are you going to do with paint cans?”
“Not any of your goddamn business. Where’s
“Whatever. What does the TV say?” Devin asked. “Same ole. Stay inside. Don’t touch them. Blah blah. All coastal cities and places up and down the Mississippi are being attacked. Europe and Asia are dark. No word from Canada or Mexico,” he explained.
“How can this be? How the hell can this happen?” Devin asked inquisitively.
“Look, kids, this is war, you can both sit still and let the army take over, or you can go get yourself killed looking for Narnia. Your choice.” Stephen felt hip and cool for making pop-culture references.
“Narnia sounds nice,” Erica interjected. “But Narnia isn’t real. This is real.” She showed them the blood on her clothes.
“She’s right. This isn’t an invasion, Uncle. This is something different. Erica, go in the back room. In the closet, there’s my duffel bag. Go and get it. Start filling it with food and water. Stephen, help me take inventory of the guns. Will you do that for me?” Stephen nodded as he closed the shades.
Erica went slowly into the back room and found Devin’s army bag with his name on it. D. O’Connor was printed on the bag. Erica hoisted it over her shoulder and brought it into the living room with the men who were looking around for weapons. “It’s my bug-out bag. Everything we should need: compass, canteens, radio, solar charger, survival filters, a few medical needs, and some MREs. Erica, you can’t run in that jumpsuit. Go grab some clothes and change.” Erica did so as she was told.
She found herself back in Devin’s room. She opened his closet to find a mass array of graphic shirts and freshly pressed slacks. She unzipped her crusted bloody denim jumpsuit. She stripped down to her black bra and ripped panties. She rubbed her hands over her cold skin trying to forget Ivan and his bad breath. She looked at herself in the mirror of Devin’s small bathroom. Her red hair was pinned in her makeshift ponytail. She washed her hands and face and made her way back to the closet. She found a white wife beater and some cotton sweatpants. She found some tennis shoes in the bottom of the closet. They were far too big for her feet, but her flats had given up on her.
Devin knocked on the door to his own bedroom. Erica slowly opened the door to find the man with a broad chest looking down at her with hollow eyes. “How do they fit?” Erica smirked lightly. Her day was filled with chaos, and she did little to improve her current mood. Little did she know that her day had only just begun.
Coffee Break
Chapter 16
Monday 1455 CST
Memphis
“M ’kay. We have a bow, two long rifles, and two shotguns: Frank’s double-barrel and .357, the auto shotgun, a 9mm, a .45, and about a box of ammo apiece,” Devin said as he began to stuff things into bags. “Erica, ever used a gun?” Erica nodded silently.
“Look, we’ve all had a shitty day, but we need to leave. Stay with me. OK?” Devin said to her. Erica eyed the 9mm handgun. “Yeah, that’s a good one. Shoots straight, seventeen-round magazine, and we have a few magazines.” Stephen grabbed the .270 deer rifle. “You’re not going to do dick with that, Uncle. Take the Auto.”
“I have a better idea. You go ahead. I’ll stay here. You’re both young, and I can’t run.”
“Stephen, you know we never leave anyone behind.”
“Oh, put it up your ass. I’m sixty years old. I can’t run. I sleep with oxygen on. The docs gave me six months. I’m going out with a bang. Help me set up, and I’ll cover you while you take the back way. Find a new car, and go find your weirdo friends. I don’t know what these fucks are, but a .270 lever action to the head will ruin their day. Go to the shed, and get me some of them paint buckets and the gasoline. And meet me in the kitchen.”
Devin knew it was the only option. “You stubborn bastard. It’s like punching a donkey in the face…What are you going to do with paint cans?”
“Not any of your goddamn business. Where’s
Similar Books
