Death of Innocence (Surviving the Fall 4)

“Well, the house is a bit more secure now but there’s always the chance that one or more people could get in. If something like that happens, and something happens to me, you’re going to be in charge of taking care of Jacob and Josie.”

Mark shifted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable about where the conversation was leading. “Mom, nothing’s going to—”

“Just listen up, kiddo.” Dianne’s expression grew serious. “If something happens, you’re in charge of your brother and sister. If we’re inside the house and you can get them to the basement, I want you to get them into the tunnel. Lock the door and haul ass down through the tunnel to the other end.”

“Are you sure it comes out in the shed in the woods?”

“Yep. I went out there a few days ago while you were all inside and checked it out. It looks clear. The tunnel’s a bit iffy at the end but we’ll get it shored up enough that it’ll function as an emergency escape should the need arise.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to you, though.” Mark insisted, declaring it a statement of fact.

“You’re darned right.” Dianne smiled and stood up, holding out her arms. Mark stood up and gave her a hug and she held him tight. “I’m sorry about all this, kiddo. I never wanted you to grow up so fast.” Dianne whispered and closed her eyes, holding her eldest son for a long moment until she heard the clatter of feet on the stairs. She stepped back and clapped Mark on the shoulders, noticing but not mentioning the tears she could see him trying to hide in his eyes. “Chin up. We’re going to be just fine around here, okay?”

Mark nodded and turned away, wiping his eyes while Dianne greeted Jacob and Josie with a big smile. “Hey you two! Finally up?”

***

After breakfast, a stroll around to check on the outbuildings and animals and a brief slushball fight with the last bits of melting snow, Dianne decided it was time to get back to work. She and Mark worked on carrying lumber up into the house, down into the basement and through into the tunnel while Jacob and Josie were put on house-cleaning duty. Floors were swept, bathrooms were scrubbed and toys were put away while Dianne and Mark sweated it out hauling building supplies.

Lunch came and went and Dianne got to work on assembling the aquaponics stands in the basement while Mark worked in the tunnel, cutting the boards down to size. Once they were done Dianne planned to fix them to the sides and ceiling of the tunnel every ten feet or so to help stabilize the passage and keep it from suddenly collapsing should they need to use it. Every so often Mark would trot up the passage stairs and help Dianne with her work and she would head down into the passage to take new measurements in the tunnel for Mark to use for his sawing.

By the time it started to get dark Jacob and Josie had long since abandoned their cleaning tasks and were instead running full-tilt around the house getting into trouble. Dianne decided that it was time for another break and made dinner before surprising the children with a movie in the living room while they ate. While Mark, Jacob and Josie ate and got lost in an animated film on the couch, Dianne sat at the kitchen table and kept an eye on the security camera feeds on the tablet.

Dianne’s habit of watching the security cameras whenever she could had become so routine that it was blending into the normalcy of everyday life. After the first day of the event, when she realized what was going on, she had desperately tried to make life for her children as normal as possible but the more time that passed the more she realized that “normal” was forever gone.

When the movie was over Dianne gathered up the dishes and sent her children upstairs to play and read while she cleaned. Once done, she sat on the couch and opened a notebook to write out the day’s activities. She had started the journal a few days after the event in an attempt to chronicle what was undoubtedly the most unusual part of her entire life.

After Jacob and Josie were asleep Dianne and Mark resumed what was beginning to become their nightly watch. Mark slept for the first few hours before Dianne roused him, then she sat up against the wall in the hallway with her gun at her side and her eyes closed while he flipped through the security cameras and padded softly between the windows.

Dianne was woken an hour into Mark’s watch by him tapping on her shoulder. “Mom. Wake up.” Mark’s voice was quiet but urgent.

“Hm?” Dianne rubbed her eyes and sat up. “What is it?”

“There’s movement out back.”

Dianne grabbed the tablet from out of Mark’s hands and stared at the screen. One of the cameras on the back of the house pointed out at the barns and lake, offering a wide—if slightly blurry—view of the entire back property. Even with the distortion and pixilation caused by the camera’s night vision mode Dianne could make out a dark figure moving around in front of the barns. The sight of the figure chilled her and she dropped the tablet into Mark’s lap and stood up.

“Stay here and keep watch. If things go bad you need to do like we talked about before, okay?” Mark nodded and Dianne put her hand on his shoulder. “Mark, I need you to do this, okay? If someone comes in the house and they aren’t me, you need to shoot them. Aim for the chest and don’t stop pulling the trigger until it clicks, okay?”

Mark visibly gulped as Dianne picked up her rifle and headed down the stairs. She muttered to herself as she went, trying to psych herself up for whatever confrontation lay ahead and steel herself for what she suspected she might have to do. Killing another person, no matter the situation, was not a choice she wanted to make lightly.

When it came to protecting her children and her home, though, there was no “lightly” about it. The choice would be swift, decisive and permanent.

Chapter 13

Somewhere in Utah

Thirty minutes later, after Rick filled and secured both fuel cans and his sipho

ning hoses, loaded the water into the back of the Humvee and packed one of the back seats full of as much non-perishable food as he could find in the storeroom of the gas station, he got back into the driver’s seat and nodded with satisfaction. “Now all I need is some clothing.” While he had no objection to scrounging around in an open, obviously empty gas station, the idea of searching through people’s houses made him extremely nervous and he decided to continue driving rather than risk being shot in the face by someone who had stayed cooped up in their home.

After sitting still for a moment as he drove slowly down the street, though, Rick realized just how cold he had become during the refueling process. Even with all of the exertion he put out he felt very cold and knew he needed to do something about it. A small diner on the side of the road caught his eye as he was driving past and he pulled his vehicle up to the front door and looked inside. The windows in the front were all smashed in and the interior looked like a tornado had blown through but the one thing he was looking for—a series of red and white checkered pieces of cloth—were still there.

Wielding just his pistol this time Rick jumped out and ran inside the restaurant. He went around to each table, tugging the tablecloths off of each table and draping them over one arm. Once all sixteen cloths were in his possession he hauled them back out to the car, threw them into the passenger’s seat and got back in.

“There.” He looked at the cloths with a squeamish expression. A handful of them were relatively clean looking but most had a variety of stains on them of all different shapes and colors. They smelled vaguely of smoke and old sandwiches but there were enough that he could easily use them as blankets or fashion them into horrendously-colored ponchos. “It’s better than freezing to death, I guess.”

Rick looked out at the sky, noting the rapidly encroaching darkness. With a full tank of fuel he figured he could make it north on Interstate 15 and east on Interstate 70 all the way to Green River—another small town off the Interstate—without having to stop for fuel or use any of his reserve. If he wasn’t able to get any more diesel there then he would have to start searching at every rest stop, town and big city he could come across. Unfortunately there didn’t seem to be any more big cities until Grand Junction, Colorado and he hoped he’d be able to find some more fuel before getting there.