The Survivor Chronicles: Book 1, The Upheaval (11 page)

“I need to find Rochelle,” Mary Ellen inserted. Even if they both decided to stay here, she wasn’t. She was going out there, into a world that was driving animals to suicide, and she was going to find her daughter even if it killed her. Which, from the looks of things, might be a very good possibility.

“We will find your daughter,” Al assured her. “We’ll go to the police station first. Perhaps they have answers.”

Rita was shaking, tears brimmed in her eyes. “Where is your husband?” Mary Ellen asked. She didn’t think Rita had children, she never saw her at the bus stop or with a stroller.

“He went golfing.” Tears slid down her face, her eyes were red rimmed and puffy as she hastily wiped the tears away. “I would just like to speak with him, to see him.”

“I’m sure most people will head to emergency services. Your husband will do the same.”

Mary Ellen was so focused on Rita that she hadn’t noticed Al had left the room until he reappeared with two bulging pillowcases. He thrust one at Mary Ellen and she fumbled to grab hold of it as she readjusted the gun in her hand. She had been prepared to defend herself against the dogs if necessary, but she had never taken the safety off of the gun. She’d been too afraid of it to do so.

She glanced inside the case, spotting cans of assorted food. There were also boxes of cereal and other dry goods that wouldn't spoil quickly. She was impressed. She’d been planning on plunging outside, storming her way to the police station, and demanding someone help her find her daughter. She hadn’t even considered food.

Al tossed the other case over his shoulder and gave her a brisk nod. “Are you ready Rita?”

The woman glanced out the window again and nodded. Mary Ellen hadn’t taken the time notice just how young Rita was until now. She looked to be only in her early twenties, though Mary Ellen knew Rita’s husband was easily pushing fifty. She supposed this was what a trophy wife would be considered with her pretty features, blue eyes, and blonde hair. But the woman seemed to truly care for her husband as tears continued to streak down her face.

“Are you sure Gary will go to the police station?”

“I’m not sure about anything right now, but it makes sense that most people will go where there may be help.” Mary Ellen understood Al’s desire not to promise Rita anything, but she thought he could have sugarcoated it at least a little. More tears streaked the young woman’s face, and her lip began to tremble. “Perhaps I should take that back.”

He retrieved the gun from Rita’s shaking hands and slid it into the bag strapped securely to his back. Rita clasped her hands before her and began to ring them nervously as she glanced back out the window. “Moogie was my only company. Gary works so much he’s never home.”

Mary Ellen had been so immersed in her own lonely existence that she had forgotten there were others who were just as lonely and lost as her. She’d locked herself away and become so entrenched in her own misery and revenge that she’d forgotten there was a world of people who also required help, and company. It was a staggering realization and she vowed not to forget again.

“Mary Ellen?”

“I’m ready,” she gushed in response to Al’s questioning look. “I’m ready.”

She stepped outside, cringing slightly at the smell of smoke that hung heavy in the air. She kept trying not to think of Rochelle, but the growing tension in her chest was telling her that she had to move quickly, that she had to find her daughter soon. Rochelle was strong and capable, but she was young, away from home, and she would be terrified. Mary Ellen refused to allow thoughts of Rochelle being injured – or even worse – enter her mind. She would go crazy if she did. She would breakdown; she would be unable to put one step in front of the other if she even allowed herself to think that her daughter was no longer a part of this world. She felt that she would know if something had happened to Rochelle, and right know she was absolutely certain that her daughter was alive, and that she would find her.

Her arms began to ache from the weight of the food as Al led them through backyards toward the main road. She was aware of the fact that he had taken this root in order to avoid the wreckage of Larry’s vehicle, a fact that she was grateful for. She didn’t grieve for him, but she didn’t want to see his remains again either.

Rita’s tears had dried; she seemed to have gotten a better handle on herself now that they were moving, now that they were focused upon a goal. It helped to ease Mary Ellen’s mind as well. They had a plan, the police would have more information, they would help them, and they would get her in touch with Rochelle somehow. She was certain of all of these things until they reached the main road and she took in the destruction that had been unleashed upon it.

Even Al, who had been striding forward with determined confidence, hesitated. He quickly recovered as he turned on his heel toward the police station. He continued stalwartly onward as if the burning homes, uprooted trees, damaged vehicles and ruined streets were of no consequence. She admired his determination, his dogged confidence that it would all be okay soon.

She wasn’t so sure she shared it anymore.

There were still people moving about on the streets, but there didn’t seem to be as many as she felt there should have been. Some were bleeding, some were covered in soot and ash, and others appeared to be just as lost as Mary Ellen felt. The police station was almost five miles from their house, and although she wasn’t overly athletic, she found a steeled reserve inside of her as she forced herself not to feel the burn already starting in her legs. She shifted the bag in her hands, looking for the perfect position to ease the ache in her arms a little.

“Would you like me to carry it for a bit?” Rita inquired.

Mary Ellen was about to tell her no when the ground began to shake again. Rita’s mouth dropped, her head began to whip back and forth as she glanced around the street. Mary Ellen stopped walking, she was afraid the ground would no longer be there if she took another step.

A man across the street started screaming and bolted into the middle of the road just as chunks of pavement flew into the air and a fissure cleaved the street in two. He disappeared into the gorge that now divided the road. Screams filled Mary Ellen’s ears and she dimly realized they were coming from Rita. She sounded like a baby bird shrieking for its mother as she hopped up and down a few times before seizing hold of Mary Ellen’s arm in a bruising grasp.

More people bolted, Mary Ellen was torn about what to do as Rita’s nails dug into her arm and she continued to shriek in short bursts. Al turned suddenly and seized Rita’s arm, pulling her back as the jagged fissure lanced toward them. Still in Rita’s death grip, Mary Ellen was also jerked out of the way.

“This way!” Al yelled over the sound of Rita's screams and the loud clamor of the earth splitting apart.

Steam burst out of a hole mere inches from Al. He let out a small squeak as he jumped to avoid it. Mary Ellen gawked in astonishment as she spotted the burned remains of the sleeve of his shirt and the puckered pink skin underneath. Rita’s screams notched up a level. Her face was florid now, she was gasping for breath, but she seemed to show no sign of stopping.

Al started running. He moved far faster than Mary Ellen ever would have thought a man of his age could. He came to an abrupt halt as they turned a corner in the street. Mary Ellen almost fell over, a lump lodged in her throat as she gazed at the scene before her.

The middle of the street was gone, it was nothing but a vast chasm stretching as far as Mary Ellen could see. She could only stand and stare at the nothing before her as she tried to comprehend exactly what this meant, what had happened. But it was beyond the scope of her reasoning. All she could comprehend right now was that the road was gone, they were not going to get through this way, and Rita’s incessant screaming was really starting to grate on her nerves.

Al stepped closer to the edge and peered over the side. His gray eyebrows shot into his hairline as he stared into the pit. Swallowing heavily, Mary Ellen pried Rita’s fingers from her arm to step beside Al. There was a disconcerting instant where the world seemed to spin as she stared into the emptiness below. The hole seemed to go on forever, and when Al tossed a rock into it, she listened as it bounced off of the sides before falling away into nothing. She wasn’t certain if it hit bottom or not. She supposed it didn’t even matter. Either way a human wouldn’t survive the fall.

She took a step back, unable to look into the crater anymore. It wasn’t doing her any good, and she was worried she was going to lose her balance and go tumbling in like the stone. Rita was still screaming. Other people had emerged onto the road. Some had stepped to the edge of the trench, others just stared blankly.

Rita suddenly stopped screaming. The silence was nearly as jolting as the sounds the woman had been making. A loud crash caused Mary Ellen to jump, she spun as more of the road gave way and the house at the end of the street lurched forward, crashing and churning as it was swallowed by the yawning pit.

Rita let out another loud shriek. It took everything Mary Ellen had not to smack the woman in order to get her to shut up. “Have you been to the police station?” The shout came from a man a hundred feet down and to their left.

“No,” Al answered. “Have you?”

The man shook his head, his eyes wandered over the gap and houses before coming back to Al. “No.”

Al’s hands twisted on his gun as the man stepped away from the edge of the abyss. Mary Ellen swallowed heavily. The man appeared to be in his mid-thirties and seemed nice enough, but Mary Ellen had never really trusted people. It appeared that Al felt the same way as he shifted his gun. Mary Ellen realized that it wasn’t just the environment and suicidal animals they had to be concerned about anymore, there were also people. Everything was different now, everyone was frightened, and frightened humans were threatening humans.

Sweat trickled down her back. Her mouth was suddenly very dry as the man’s gaze raked over the three of them. They were two women, one of whom was still squawking and making dry little shouts, and an older man. They must appear weak, easy pushovers. Mary Ellen wasn’t that confidant in her ability to shoot another person, but she had the feeling that Al wouldn’t hesitate.

The man nodded to them and moved away. Al’s shoulders relaxed visibly, Mary Ellen met his gaze warily over the top of Rita’s head. “We’ll have to find another way.”

Mary Ellen nodded and dropped the pillowcase of supplies. She grabbed hold of Rita’s arms, turning the woman toward her. Rita seemed unfocused, lost; adrift. Mary Ellen had the unsettling feeling that she was witnessing the actual unraveling and splintering of a human mind right in front of her eyes. She didn’t know Rita, but she couldn’t bear to watch the woman fracture and break, and she was terrified that’s what Rita was doing.

“Rita! Rita!”

Mary Ellen shook her, contemplated slapping her, but another vigorous shake seemed to connect with her a little bit. Rita blinked, her mouth opened and closed. She let out another small squawk and then finally became blessedly silent. “Rita, you have to keep it together. You have to stay with us. It’s terrifying enough without you screaming.”

Though she was no longer screaming, there was a vacancy in Rita’s eyes that frightened Mary Ellen, almost like the woman was no longer with them. She glanced over at Al, who watched them silently. His lips clamped together, thinning out as he shook his head at Mary Ellen. “Rita?” she inquired.

The woman remained silent. Mary Ellen found herself almost longing for Rita to start screaming again, at least then she was doing something, at least then she was reacting with the world instead of shutting herself off from it completely. Mary Ellen kept hold of her arm as she turned Rita toward Al.

“What’s wrong with her?” she asked Al. Though Rita was within earshot, and had more than likely heard the question, she didn’t show any reaction to it.

Al studied Rita. “Some people just don’t handle things very well.”

“Is she going to be alright?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly.

Rita remained unmoving, barely blinking as she stood as still as a stone in Mary Ellen’s grasp. It was unnatural and more than a little creepy. “We can try finding another way to the police station or we can go to the fire station,” he suggested.