“The bad boys, mommy! The bad boys!” Chloe cried as she sat concealed in the hidden room her father had constructed. The hidden door, which lead in from the kitchen, creaked open.
Chloe gasped.
“Chloe?” Her mother’s calm voice was soothing.
“Mommy! My ears hurt!”
“Here, Chloe! Hold mommy!”
The hidden door secure, Gwendolyn struck a match and the flash made Chloe shudder. Lighting a candle, Gwendolyn placed it before them as they cuddled on a cot. Gwendolyn petted Chloe’s scalp and ran her fingers through her hair. “We’re safe, baby. Nothing will hurt us here. Daddy will come home.”
“When?”
Gwendolyn could not repress a tear. The ringing in their ears gone, mother and child, cuddled together, drifted off into deep sleep in the serenity of the lone candleflame.
Then a crash thundered into even the hidden room. Gasping awake, both Gwendolyn and her daughter tightened their hold on the other.
Withdrawing one hand to a cardboard box beside her, Gwendolyn pulled out three fully-loaded magazines. And placed them about her jacket. Then covering chloes mouth, Gwendolyn drew the pistol and held aim at the door.
“You, me and daddy as a family with God, Chloe!”
“I love you and daddy, mommy!”
Gwendolyn’s eyes fixed, her breathing in contrast to Chloe’s was calm. Heartbeats contrasted too. Perspiration as well.
Then the rumbling of many heavy steps just outside the door. And Gwendolyn began praying, “our father, who art in heaven, hallow be thy name, thy kingdom come, I will be done…”
Then muffled voices just outside, loud and panicky. And clearly one yelled, “torch the house!”
To this, lightning struck within Gwendolyn’s heart, and her heart thundered. Her mind felt it lose its ease, and drained out of her as tears.
Minutes passed in eery silence. Then a hint of burning wood in Gwendolyn’s nostrils. Out loud in a mumble, Gwendolyn said, “we stay, we die. We leave, we might live.”
Gwendolyn grabbed hold of Chloe in all sterness, “We’re running out of this room and through the kitchen, to outside! Understand me Chloe?”
“Yes, mommy!”
“Ok. On three, baby!”
Hands clasping.
“One, two… three!”
Pistol aimed ahead, Gwendolyn flung open the door into a kitchen she once knew to be beautiful, with memories now aflame. The air was thick and the overpowering heat made Gwendolyn tug Chloe through with mind over matter.
Out the front door and into the cold of nuclear winter, there was a sense of relief within Gwendolyn. Then coming into focus in all the pandemonium, were dozens of torches and flashlights. Blinded, Gwendolyn chose to lower her pistol.
Then a voice roared, “drop the gun or we drop you both!”
Gwendolyn dropped her husband’s pistol into the deep snow, and picked up Chloe, carrying her towards the flashlights.
“Names!” The same voice hollered.
“Gwendolyn Scarfo! This is my daughter, Chloe! Please don’t kill us!”
One flashlight approached and a youthful face appeared, looted and hair disheveled. The same tall, young man who had been speaking. He continued, “Oh, we’re not gonna kill you! Not us! No, that’s for the scavengers! You, you will find out that you are the real scavengers!”
To Be Continued…
