Title Yet To Be Discovered (Part 6) Poem by Mike Smith

It didn't take long at all while pushing the cart to realize the incredible amount of racket it was creating. These things were meant for nice, even, smooth surfaces. Not old beat up pavement. The noise was distracting, and it made me nervous. If there was anybody within earshot Emily and I were near certain to arouse there curiosity.
That was another thing. I hadn't done a very good job of stressing to Emily how important it was to be quiet during the trip back to the school. She was full of excitement and questions about who she would meet when we got there. I reminded her several times that we had to stay silent until we got home, then I could answer any question she wanted. She'd stay quiet for 15, some times as much as 30 seconds, then she'd revert back to a question machine. I'd begun to get a little frustrated. Not only at the inability to suppress her curiosity, but also at the slow pace I was moving at and the far-carrying sound my cart was producing with each turn of its wheels. An idea struck me then.
'Emily? '
'Huh? '
'How would you like to play a game? '
'What kind of game? '
'It's called: The quiet game'
'Well... I really love games. But I don't know how to play that one. We could play I Spy! '
'No no no. Emily this is a really easy game. A smart five year old like you could learn it no problem.' She sat up a little straighter at this.
'Okay. What do we do? '
'When I count to three, we can't say another word. The first one who does say a word loses, but the winner gets a treat when we get back to our new friends at the school. Absolutely no more words until we get inside the school.'
'What kind of treat? ' She had now stood up in the cart and was facing me expectantly.
'Can't tell or it'll ruin the surprise.'
'I'm gonna win.'
'Maybe. Maybe not. I'm pretty good at these kind of games Em.' No response to this. That was good. It meant she was already in game-mode.
'Okay Emily are you ready? ' She nodded her head yes.
'After I count to three we can't talk until we get to the school, okay? ' Another nod.
'One... Two... What the fu..' I caught myself before finishing the word in front of the kid.
'Heyyy! That's cheating. You sai....' I cut her off by scooping her and the food filled duffle bag out of the cart. Just before our little 'game' could start I'd seen a group of three people down the road to the east. Two men and a woman, or maybe three men and one with long hair. Aside from the lunatic in the yellow haz-mat suit yesterday it was the only people other than those back in the basement that I'd seen in the better part of a year. That itself was enough to throw me off, but that wasn't the part that truly knocked me back. One of them, the woman or the long hair, was tossing bits of scrap to a half dozen hairless charred mutts. How could it be? How could they have survived? It didn't make any sense.
My instinct told me to run and I tried to, but something else, something beyond instinct told me to observe. My feet were cemented in place and I simply stood there, the bag secured in the crook of my elbow hanging down to my thigh and the girl rested on my forearm with her weight rested against my now pounding heart. A shrill and very loud voice kicked me out of my stupor.
'You said I could ride in the cart! '
'Shhh.' I tried to hush her but it was too late. The people and their accompanying dogs had heard us. The long hair pulled up her mask putting her middle and index fingers of either hand up to her mouth and let out whistle that I could hear clear as day even from three blocks away.
'New Momma! ' Emily had recognized the whistle. There was no time to think, to ask questions. The whistle had sent the dogs sprinting in our direction. And Emily's yell had sent the people, 'New Momma' apparently among them, chasing as well. Gun in hand, I took off sprinting in the direction of the school.
Between the food, the girl, and the ammo in my backpack I was carrying something like 120 pounds of extra weight along with me. I figured myself about a half mile off from the school still. Maybe a bit more than that. I had no chance of outrunning the pack over that distance. Plus all that would do is to lead them straight to our hideaway.
I looked back a half block into my mad dash and the badly burnt canines were closing the gap all too quickly. I had to do something, and it had to be now. I scanned the streets for something, anything that could help me; a ladder in an alleyway, a fence I could climb over. No such luck. My feet continued to smack the pavement as fast as I could make them go. I was grateful now that I'd made the girl wear the mask. My lungs were working double-time. In the respirator I'd be gasping for each breath.
Another glance back told me that the mutts had closed the gap to a block and a half. The people, New Momma at the rear, were still another half block behind them. I tried to focus on running. Imagined myself with wings and exerted the whole of my speed into every stride, but I knew it would never be enough.
Then I saw it. On the right-hand side of the road, opposite me and Emily, there was a tanker truck parked on the road in front of a ranch style house. 'O' Sullivan LP' read the side of the truck. I could see the large gas tank pristinely chromed and shining. It was a prayer, if even that, but my options were becoming more and more limited with each step I took.
I fired the first round at the gas tank of the truck while still running. Hopeless. I was no gunslinger. I stopped and placed Emily and the bag on the ground behind me. Now facing the tanker truck and my pursuers head on I held the weapon with both hands and fired again, and again. Seven times in total I fired the Baretta aiming for the gas tank of the LP truck. In between rounds five and six I heard her voice. Overtop of Emily's desperate screaming and the dogs barking and my own heart pounding I heard New Momma yell, ' Greg, wait! '
She had stopped running by then. But the warning came too late. My seventh bullet penetrated the gas tank just as the dogs (Greg close on their heels) were running past. The ensuing explosion sent the lot of them airborne, though they probably didn't know it. The death must have been almost instant. I was nearly a hundred feet off from the truck and the blast kicked me backwards several feet. They were far closer than me. Inside the fireball of energy created by the blast.
It was like being punched in the nose if somehow your nose could be your whole body. Every inch of me ached as it had never ached before. My hearing was reduced to a high pitched whistling sound. I regained my feet dizzy and confused, but the sight of a crying little girl with pink shoes brought me back to my senses. I managed to grab Emily (now somehow no longer wearing the mask) and the duffel all in one swooping motion and again I was off. I didn't know whether there was any call to run or not. Whether all my pursuers had blown away, or if somehow they had survived and were still after me. I sprinted regardless.
Emily was crying, screaming. The tears eventually soaked through the four layers I was wearing and I could feel the wetness on my shoulder.
Only several blocks later as I approached the school parking lot did I stop to look back and see if there was anybody (or any thing) following. I stood there watching vigilantly for some time. The last thing I intended to do was lead anyone back to our hideout shelter. I scanned every road, every surrounding window of every building or house. Finally convinced that I had ditched the pursuit party I looked down at the sobbing girl in my arms.
It took my out of survival mode. Seeing her there, frightened to death of the things she'd just seen, of the unknown future that lay before her. I attempted, best I could, to soothe her as I walked her towards the school, but the sobbing was incessant.
'Emily? ' No response, only more sobbing.
In a softer tone this time, and lifting her chin to meet my eyes, 'Emily, are you okay? ' A lull in the sobs, but still no answer.
'Emily, I need you to be very brave okay? I need you to answer this question. Are you hurt? ' She looked at me wiping her red eyes with her sleeve and sniffling before she shook her head no.
Thank god for that. She was safe, and she was at least acknowledging me.
'I know that it's been a very scarey day for you. I was scared too.' She squinted her eyes, bringing her brow down and the corners of her lips up in a puzzled manner, as if saying asking how I could be scared.
'Grown ups can get scared too ya know. Wanna know what the scariest part was? ' A finger to the side of the head and a tilt of the neck before an eventual shake no.
'I didn't know if I could get you back here to our new home so you could meet our friends.' I made a sweeping gesture encompassing the school, now only steps away. To my incredible relief, this inspired a smile. I stopped walking and looked her in her puffy eyes.
'Would you like to go meet them now? ' A nod yes and another wipe away of the tears.
I resumed walking us up to the doorway, the barricade thankfully still not reassembled.
'Did you ever used to go to school Emily? Maybe back when you still lived with Old Momma? ' A nod yes. At this point I was just trying to get her thinking about anything other than what had just happened.
'Can you remember your teachers name? ' Another nod yes.
'What was it? ' She showed a flutter of excitement, taking a deep breath, but then she gave me a look as if staring beneath my skin into my soul. A look of distrust.
'Em, what's wrong? Don't you remember your teachers name? ' I had stopped walking only a pace or two in front of the door. She gave me a look of disapproval.
'What is it? ' Finally she could contain herself no longer.
'You're tryin' to trick me! '
'What? '
'You said I wasn't a'sposed to say no more words till we got inside the school and that's how I'd get a treat and now you're askin' me a million questions right before we get inside! You're tryin' to trick me aren't you Ian? ! ' She had now struggled out of my hold and was standing with her back to me, foot tapping, hands on hips as she stared into a big empty world.
Jesus Christ. The girl was still playing the silly little game I'd devised to keep her quiet for the trip home. If I hadn't known it already, that moment cemented it beyond a doubt: I loved this little girl like my own daughter. I would do whatever I had to to keep her safe and give her a shot at life. No matter what it took. No matter what it meant for me or anyone else left on the Earth. No exceptions.
Grinning ear to ear I eventually responded, 'No Em. It's not a trick. You won.' She turned back around to face me with a smile she tried to (but couldn't) contain or hide.
'Let's go get your treat and meet our friends.' She grabbed my hand and we walked down the hallway past the gymnasium, past the teachers lounge, past the library, and finally - to the basement door.