Episode 104.3 - This Just In

“Walt!” Zach wandered the hall of the station, his ever-present cup of coffee steaming and sloshing dangerously with each step. “Walter!”

He found his newsman huddled into a dark corner, hands clasped in urgent prayer. Zach considered letting him keep going, but knew, Jesus or not, his friend would never forgive him. So he got closer, enough to feel the praying man’s breath against his face, and said in his deepest and most holy baritone, “Well, I suppose.”

Walt looked up, startled, and furrowed his brow. “Not funny.”

Zach shrugged. “No, seriously. Guess it worked. God or somebody found your kids. They’re on the pho--.”

“Sorry!” Walt called the apology back to his friend, having knocked him -- and his coffee -- backwards as he rushed for the telephone.

Walter came back moments later and handed Zach a towel. “I really am sorry about that,” he said.

“Ah, I probably deserved it. How’re the kids.”

“Shaken. They’re getting some rest, and then they’re headed this way. The guy said --”

“What guy?”

“Long story. The guy --”

“You’re a bad news man, you know that?”

“Look, things went south. It’s worse out there than we can even imagine. The kids had to run for their lives, and knocked on a stranger’s door. Not usually the course of action I’d condone, but all things considered, well, whatever. Point is, they found a nice man. They’re safe and resting, and then he’ll try to get them out of the city. It’s not safe there, and he doesn’t have the supplies to keep three people fed and holed up in his apartment.”

“So…”

“So, for now they’re safe. I’ll be heading out to get them if I can, but the guy says the city’s jammed, so he’s got to get them out and we’ll meet somewhere else. Zach?”

“Yeah.”

“I know it’s not really your thing, but pray, would you?”

Episode 104.2 - 5 Hours Earlier

Keisha held her breath and her brother’s hand.

They hadn’t heard from their Mommy since the school had sent everyone home. The ladies in the office had tried calling her, to no avail. By the time they found their Daddy’s work number, the phone lines were jammed. Too many people calling too many people, said Ms. Kowalski.

Instead, Ms. Kowalski -- “Today, you can call me Jenny,” she’d said -- drove them home. After three blocks, Keisha could see the tears in Ms. Kowalski’s eyes. She turned next to her brother in the back seat and told him to close his own and plug his ears. She did the same, and shut out the horror around her until she felt the car slow to a stop.

When she’d opened her eyes, Keisha saw they were at the hardware store they lived above with their Mommy. Ms. Kowalski was helping the children out of the car when a man stepped from the shadows. The man was completely bald -- even lacking eyebrows -- and wearing a funny silver suit like a second skin. Keisha thought he looked like a lizard. He also looked very, very angry.

Ms. Kowalski had seen the man, too. She knelt down in front of the children, and turned their chins to her. “Keisha. Andre. Go straight to your door. Don’t look.”

“Yes, Ms. Kowalski,” Keisha had said.

“Please. Call me Jenny. Go.”

The strange silver man had lunged and Ms Kowalski had swung around and hit him before he reached the children. They ran to the door as she’d instructed. They heard a wet tear and an inhuman scream they knew had to be their teacher, at the same time they tried the door handle. It was locked. Keisha searched her pockets for the key, and came up empty. By accident, she looked to where her teacher had been and saw her lying on the floor, her head twisted at a funny angle. The strange man in silver was reaching into a hole in Ms. Kowalski’s abdomen.

Keisha looked around her for any sign of hope and saw the apartment building across the street. She’d grabbed her brother’s hand and hadn’t let go until they stood in front an apartment door well inside the building and heard the sound of the door latch.

When she looked into the eyes of the large, kind-looking stranger in the doorway, Keisha fell to her knees, released her brother’s hand, and wept.

Episode 104.1 - The Woods

The woods are quieter than the streets. Most of the people leaving the city are on the road, either locked in their cars and bumper-to-bumper, or else walking to the side. There is greater danger in the crowd, but also cover, after a fashion. The Donors wander in and out among the crowd, their hunger sated, but ready to attack if they feel threatened in any way. Many refugees are armed with whatever they could find: baseball bats, shovels, heavy sticks. Firearms.

There is more than one danger to a crowd of armed and frightened people. First, you never really know, for sure, who you can trust. Some just want to keep themselves and their families safe. Some will help their neighbors if they can. Some will club their neighbors and steal their food. Best to keep the eyes peeled, stay wary of everyone. Keep your distance. Let nobody into your space. The second danger is worse and, now, more likely. If the clones do attack again, the shooting will start. If the shooting starts, innocent people will die. As simple as it is to point a gun and pull a trigger, it is far more complicated to hit what you want to hit.

The children and I are in the woods, and heading away from the road. The darkness here offers its own hazards, but when faced with the threats of the whole of humanity, I’m willing to take my chances.

Episode 103.4 - As The Knob Turns

The doorknob begins to slowly turn, and suddenly I can’t take my eyes off it. Doubt creeps in as my finger tightens around the trigger. Did I lock it? I’d peeked into the hallway once or twice, I know. Did I remember to just flip that little lock? My eyes finally, reluctantly, scan up to the chain. Yes, that at least is in place. My breathing slows as my mind works to force out the panic. The chain is in place. I don’t lock the chain unless I’ve turned the main lock. It’s an order. A system. A pattern.

The panic resolves itself into calculation. The door is locked, but will it hold? The chain is at best an illusion of security depending upon the strength of whoever is standing on the other side of that door. I need to reinforce it. At the very least, it’s the only way in without some serious effort on the part of a would-be intruder. I live three flights up, so as long as I can secure the front door, I should be okay. Should be.

All these thoughts pass through my mind in an instant, and while they do, I register a change in the situation outside my door. The knob is no longer being turned.  There is a knock, small but urgent, and a voice. The voice of a child.

“Hello? Is there anyone in there?” It’s barely above a stage whisper. A girl, I think.

I hold my breath. Independently of my will, my gun hand slowly drops.

“Please. If you’re there. Please help us.”