A Cruel and Violent Storm Read online

  I know she wants me to believe that. So much of her childhood was spent with me hovering over her, trying to shield her from everything we grew up with. Still, she’s heard things, seen things. Morgan once told me he couldn’t believe how well she has coped with all that has happened. If he only knew the half of it. In so many ways, she was better equipped than most to deal with it all.

  Felix walks up, an attempt at a smile on his face. “C’mon,” he says. “We need more players.”

  “For what?” I ask.

  “Monopoly.”

  Hours later, I am in the middle of the most depressing round of Monopoly ever played. But Felix was right, it has made the hours more bearable. Rolling the dice, buying property, passing Go; it gives us something to focus on besides what’s happening beyond these walls. I sit beside Grace and Ray, Leon’s younger brother. When I was introduced to Leon’s family, I had to do a double take when I saw Ray. Except for the almond shape of his eyes, and slightly lighter skin, he could be a fourteen-year-old clone of his older brother. I’ve heard stories about his wild streak throughout the trail, but so far, I haven’t seen a trace of it. I suppose surviving in this new world has tamed that wildness.

  Emily sits across from me, her face pale, eyes lost. My heart breaks for her. I can only imagine the pain she must feel, how Maya’s death must haunt her. I thought the world of Maya. I didn’t know her long, but I feel like I knew her well. Her kindness in a world full of hate was a rare thing. But she wasn’t my best friend. There are no memories of us outside these past few months. Those memories belong to Emily. I wish there was something I could do for her, but I know there is nothing to be done. Time is what she needs. I just hope we get it.

  Leon rolls the dice and lands on Community Chest. “You win 2nd prize in a beauty contest,” he reads from the card.

  Felix smiles at that. “I’d hate to see whoever came in 3rd,” he says.

  Leon scoffs. “Well, we all know you wouldn’t have even placed.”

  They continue to throw casual insults back and forth, their smiles never quite reaching their eyes, their laughs just a little too forced to be genuine. It’s their way of trying to lessen the tension in the air, and it works to a degree. Their banter lasts as the game dwindles down, and is eventually abandoned altogether.

  “I need to stretch my legs,” I say, excusing myself from the table. Quietly, I slip past the living room and take the stairs, yearning for a breath of fresh air. Outside isn’t an option, but upstairs I can open a window without fear of sound or light escaping into the street. I head for the same bedroom where I found Morgan earlier, only to find it’s already occupied.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, already making to close the door again. “I didn’t think anyone would be up here.”

  “It’s fine, Lauren. Please, stay if you’d like.” I’m hesitant, unsure if she’s only asking out of courtesy. Then she shifts and the moonlight washes across her face, revealing those eyes which she and her son share, and I find my feet acting on their own accord.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Taylor,” I say.

  She smiles. “I appreciate your manners. But please, call me Marie.”

  I return her smile. “I think I can manage that.” I stand beside her now, the breeze from the open window soothing on my skin. I look out, amazed at all the homes before me. Morgan told me this area was full of wealth and I don’t doubt it. Not every home is as grand as the one we’re in, but they are all beautiful in their own way. Most have been abandoned, their owners either dead or moved on. In the end, their money didn’t matter when the power went away.

  The silence deepens, but I don’t feel awkward in it. Her stillness, the way she carries herself despite all the strain she must feel, it all reminds me of Morgan. He always said his mother was the glue, the bond which held his family together. Just as he was that bond between us on the trail. I suppose he had to learn it from someone.

  “I’m sorry if my family is a bit much right now,” she says. “It’s the tension. It’s making everyone a little stir crazy.”

  “Your family’s amazing,” I say. “It’s only tense right now because there’s so much love between you all. That’s never something to apologize for.”

  She graces me with another smile. “Thank you, Lauren,” she says. “I think you’re a pretty amazing young woman, yourself.”

  I’m caught off guard by her compliment. She’s barely just met me, yet I hear the sincerity in her voice. “Why do you say that?” I ask, my words coming out more suspicious than I’d like.

  “The way my son looks at you, talks about you. Everything you’ve done to get here. Not to mention the way I’ve seen you with your sister. How caring and protective you are of her? I’m a mother, Lauren. I know that kind of nurturing isn’t something learned in a matter of weeks or months, but groomed over the course of years. That alone says a lot about you, that you’ve placed others needs above your own for some time.”

  I don’t know what to say to that. The woman is more perceptive than anyone I’ve ever met, picking up on the most subtle of things. She reaches out and strokes my cheek once, her hand caring and gentle—the way a mother’s touch is supposed to feel. Emotion swells inside me, a lump rising in my throat, the back of my eyes stinging with tears I’ve trained myself not to let fall. Where the hell did that come from?

  “It’s alright, dear,” she says. “You don’t have to say anything. Just know I mean what I said: you’re an amazing young woman. My son is lucky to have you.”

  I return her smile. “I think we’re lucky to have each other,” I say.

  She laughs, a warm, floating thing—like freshly laundered sheets pulled straight from the dryer. “Yes. You’re probably right.” She turns back toward the window a moment, exhaling a deep breath as she does so. “Well, I think I’ve hidden up here long enough. I should head back to the craziness.” She squeezes my arm once before turning to leave. “I look forward to getting to know you, Lauren. I’ll see you downstairs.”

  I stay a while longer, allowing the dark and quiet to calm my thoughts, steady my emotions. Now that she’s left the room, I’m struggling to understand why her presence affected me as it did. Perhaps it’s merely the air around her, how she commands the focus of the room without effort. There’s no falseness to her, she’s genuine in a way most people can’t be. She’s interpreted so much in such a short time. It makes me wonder what else she’ll see, the layers she will peel back.

  Finally, I make my leave from the room, shutting the door behind me. I pause halfway down the hall, a strangled sob to my right stopping me in my tracks. A soothing voice follows from behind a partially closed door.

  “Shh. It’s gonna be alright, Em.” Leon speaks with a tenderness I’ve never heard from him before. My mind screams at me to keep walking, to give them privacy, but it’s as if my feet are glued to the spot.

  “You don’t know that,” she says. “We thought that last night too, thought we escaped them...and look what happened.” Another sob sounds from behind my door and it helps me find my feet. The stinging behind my eyes sharpens, but I don’t let the tears fall. I can’t afford to let myself break down. Still, my mind starts steering toward those darker places, imagining all the things that might be happening outside. After last night and from what we’ve learned this morning, I know exactly what the Animals are capable of. And there were survivors from their botched attack—vindictive men full of anger and rage and who saw their friends die before their eyes. They will remember the man who stood against them, whose defiance sparked it all. And there will be no mercy for him should he be caught. He will suffer, and he will die, and—

  Stop it! He’s ok. He’s too important not to be.

  I focus on the immediate: the beating of my heart, the inhale-exhale of each breath, putting one foot in front of the other. I’ve had practice taming unsavory thoughts. When I make it back to the sitting room, it’s to find Felix alone at the table. He forces a smile when he sees me.

  �
�Monopoly must have worn them out,” he says. I follow his gaze to find Grace and Ray asleep on the loveseat in the corner. Exhaustion finally caught up with her. I feel it myself, but sleep is still a long ways off.

  “Understandable,” I say. I take a seat opposite him. “You could probably do with some sleep yourself,” I say. He looks like hell. The past 48 hours have been as hard on him as anyone. It was out of desperation that led him to take off in the dead of night for his uncle’s farm. How full of hope he must have been when he finally arrived, excited to see his family after so long. I can’t even imagine the pain he must have felt when he found the place so broken—the dark thoughts that must have consumed him as he wondered if the blood splattered on the floors and walls was the same blood running through his veins. To go through all that and then suffer the death of a friend right after? The strain of it all would have broken a lesser man. But despite his strength, I know how badly he must be hurting.

  He shrugs the suggestion aside with a tired laugh. “I could say the same thing about you.”

  I smile in return. “You’re not wrong,” I say. I cast a glance at the clock on the far wall: 4:00 AM. Dawn grows nearer. Felix notices my gaze but doesn’t mention anything. I know he’s counting down the hours. I force some small talk, asking him questions about the town, about growing up here. It provides the distraction I need and keeps the quiet from settling in. But eventually I run out of steam and I find my mind wondering once again on what must be happening. And apparently, I’m not the only one. From the adjoining living room, a commotion reaches our ears, drawing our attention.

  “Please, Jenna. Calm down,” says a calming voice.

  “Don’t tell me to calm down! They should have been here by now!”

  Morgan’s cousin Jenna paces about the room, the strain of everything finally making her crack. Her mom, Virginia, tries in vain to settle her down, her words only adding to her tantrum.

  “They got caught. Had to have,” Jenna says.

  “Sit down, girl!” barks Morgan’s uncle, Will. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!” His face flushes red with anger. The man has to be a nervous wreck. His daughter, Julia, has been at the mercy of the Animals for days. And now it is his son’s who go to rescue her. I’m surprised he’s kept it together this long.

  “I don’t take orders from you,” she snarls. “What? Afraid I’m speaking the truth? You should be. If they haven’t been caught, then where are they? Unless they got cold feet and are trying to save face by not coming back too soon.”

  Will rises to his feet, vein in his forehead bulging ominously. “I’m warning you: shut your goddamn mouth if you know what’s good for you!” His voice has gone deathly quiet, filled with venom.

  “You don’t scare me,” she says. “I’ll say whatever the hell—” she’s caught off guard as Will advances on her.

  “Shit,” I say. Suddenly Morgan’s dad is between them, keeping Will at bay and yelling at him to calm down. Maybe he might have, but Jenna doesn’t seem to know how to stop herself, yelling back, adding to his anger. More of the family rise to their feet, arguments rippling out like rings of water on a pond, completely unrelated to the fight between Jenna and Will. Mrs. Taylor tries to regain order, but her voice is lost in the shouting.

  All the commotion has woke Grace and Ray who stand beside Felix and I—outsiders witnessing a family meltdown. There’s shoving and pushing. Crying. Insults flying back and forth. This I understand. I’ve seen this scene before.

  “Everyone shut the hell up!” Leon’s voice booms from atop the stairs, loudly enough to pause the commotion. Heated glares race his way, as if all the anger in the room has shifted to him. But he continues before anyone can question him. “Trucks are coming up the road!”

  Anger turns to fear. Panic. Darkness and silence fill the room as lanterns are extinguished and arguments die. Felix and I race to the closest window and carefully peel back the drape to see with our own eyes. Half the room follows suit, peeking out the corners throughout the front of the house. Headlights fill the street and I feel my blood turn to ice. My hand grips the revolver holstered on my hip out of instinct. Beside me, I can hear Felix chamber a shotgun shell.

  First to emerge from the crest of the hill is a blue pickup, followed by a white van, a silver diesel, and finally a black scout. They park in a semicircle, headlights focused on Will’s house. Men and women pour out the vehicles and spread out, circling the place. From the scout, another figure steps forward

  “Shit,” I whisper, recognizing him immediately.

  He stares up at the house in contempt, his sneer twisted in hatred as he twirls a baseball bat in his hand. “Grunts,” he yells out. To his right, a dozen men and women approach him. I take note of them immediately—of the resigned, disgusted looks on their faces. Some look to be mending injuries, others on the verge of tears. The sneering man’s stare burns into them. “You say you’re loyal. This is your chance to prove it. I want them alive if possible, but dead will work just as well.” He jerks his head toward the house. “Go.”

  They obey, moving toward the house with their weapons drawn. They break apart into squads of threes and fours, focusing on different breaching points. Throughout the house, I hear silent curses and weapons priming. I squeeze Grace’s hand and whisper it’s going to be alright.

  From the back of the house, I hear the kitchen’s sliding glass door open and several bodies rush in. Heads whip from the drapes to the darkened kitchen, weapons held at the ready.

  “It’s us,” calls a familiar voice. “We got em’”

  Chapter 3: (Morgan)

  My pulses races. Sweat pours down my face. I double over once inside, a sharp pain in my side as I struggle to catch my breath. Never have I ran so hard in my life. Vince Joins me, followed by Julia, and then Richard who helps Jerry along. They slide the door closed, and I find the breath to call out.

  “It’s us,” I say. “We got em’.”

  We file into the living room where most of the family has assembled, the faint light from the street outlining their bodies. My Uncle Will rushes to us, sweeping Julia into his arms the moment we enter. Closely behind him is Jenna who launches herself into her brother’s arms, a sob escaping her. I move past them when I spot Lauren in the next room.

  “Hello, beautiful,” I say, squeezing her tight. After the night I’ve had, all I want is to stay in her arms. But light from the street draws my attention. “What’s going on?” I ask. I pull back the drape and take in the scene further down the street.

  “They’re clearing out the house,” Felix says.

  I clap him on the shoulder. “It’s a good thing we’re not there then, huh?”

  It was Felix’s idea to vacate the house. At dark, we packed everything worth saving from my Uncle’s place and made for an abandoned house down the street. If tonight’s plan failed and we were caught, there was a chance Vince, Jerry, and Richard would be recognized. The Animals would put two and two together, and they would go after the rest of the family. And if they were to catch me with them after last nights events, their revenge would be that much more brutal.

  We watch as the men and women enter the house. Streaks of light dance between the windows as they search the place, finding nothing but empty rooms. Even from here their fear is unmistakable as they report back. The sneering man glares at them. “Well?” he asks. Nobody seems eager to answer him. I don’t blame them. Finally, a man in his late forties finds his voice. “Nothing, sir. They’ve abandoned the place.”

  The sneer leaves him as his face flickers in anger. His revenge has been stolen from him, and he can barely contain his fury. He raises the baseball bat and his captive flinches back. Beside the captive, my uncle’s mailbox breaks apart with one hard swing. On the ground, he continues swinging until it turns into a pile of splintered wood and dented metal. Breathing heavily, he straightens himself out, turning slowly in a circle, eyes searching the area.

  “I know you’re out there
,” he yells into the night. “We could have had peace, could have built something together.” He pauses, shaking his head. “But you’ve chosen violence. We will find you. You will pay for the blood you’ve spilled. And know this: your deaths will be long and painful. This, I promise you.” He turns now to his men. “Torch it.”

  Men enter the house with gas cans. Minutes later the sneering man drops a single match, and flames leap to life on the ground and race into the house. The fire spreads quickly, and it’s not long until smoke billows into the sky and the house is consumed in flames. I look to my Uncle WIll as he watches his home burn. There’s anger in his face—pain as so many years of memories turn to ash. But there is also resolve, acceptance. He squeezes Julia closer to him and looks to Vince and Jerry who stand to his left. He knows how much more he could have lost tonight.

  The house begins to collapse in on itself as the first hints of light rise from the east. The Animals return to their vehicles, all of them filled with anger but for the captives whose relief is easy to spot. Before he enters the scout, the sneering man looks out once again, his eyes flicking about malevolently as if reasserting his promise. But eventually, he too enters the vehicle and the scout pulls away from the curb. It’s not until they disappear past the crest of the hill, that we breathe easy once again.

  There’s a roar of triumph as my family celebrates our reunion. I smile and laugh, but it’s hard to find joy when I feel so much blood on my hands. The Animals don’t warrant my sympathy. But they weren’t the only ones who lost people today. I remember that old man dropping to the ground with a gunshot to the stomach. I remember sounds of pursuing gunfire as we escaped through the smashed window with a score of freed captives. I remember a couple shaking out of fear as the sneering man sent a bullet through their skulls. Am I not responsible for those deaths?

  Her hands find my face and force me to meet her eyes. “Get out of that head of yours,” she says. She knows me too well. “Come,” she says, leading me out of the room. “Sleep is what you need.” Her words seem to make me aware of my own exhaustion. My eyes are heavy, feet like lead. Sleep is exactly what I need.