Page 17 of Second Dead


  Chapter 15: Interlude

  “Now we can leave,” became the mantra for the day. Every time we loaded something, we said it. All morning we packed supplies. Mom, George, and Laura, busied themselves in the kitchen cooking rice for the journey.

  “Sticky rice,” Mom explained. “This will hold up well on our journey. Besides, it’s the rice of good fortune.”

  Flush with the spirit of the day, I just let it fucking go.

  George spooned rice onto a piece of stretch wrap. Laura pushed the rice flat while Mom put canned tuna on top and finished it off with a dash of soy sauce.

  “Rice burgers,” George said while he wrapped one.

  After lunch Dad called a meeting, destined to be our last here on Lucky Lane. “Still have clothes and weapons to pack. Everyone gets one trash bag so make it count. For your backpack, bring just the essentials, survival gear only. As far as the weapons go, we’ll divvy those up this afternoon.

  “First, we’ll go over our travel plans one last time,” Dad said, greeted by loud groans.

  He passed out maps Susan had traced from the original. He also handed out plastic sandwich bags.

  “When we're done, I want you to bag your map and seal it up tight. From now on until we reach the farm, don’t let your map leave your person. Got that?”

  Dad led the recital. He made everyone trace the route we were to take while we intoned what we now referred to as the travel song.

  “Up to Mel, three right turns, down Hancock Place, right on MacArthur, past the mall, under the highway, left onto the railroad tracks, across the river,” on and on we droned.

  “Oh hey, a smiley face,” Laura whispered to George mid way through our recital.

  Dad glowered at Laura. George sniggered. I glanced at the twins and then down at my map. I noticed it too. Children are amazing. They could find something wonderful in the most mundane tasks.

  “Knock it off. This is serious.” Dad glared at the twins. Laura and George cleared the smiles and resumed the somber recital.

  I grinned at the twins, then found my place on the map and continued until we reached the farm. Satisfied, Dad folded his map and put it away. He watched the rest of us bag our maps and tuck them in our clothes.

  “Okay, second order of business.” Dad frowned at Theo. “Think you got it, son?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. Chris and me have been practicing on your old Cutlass.”

  When Larry closed his gas station, he locked his wrecker in the service garage. Several weeks ago, Theo discovered the tow truck in the back service bay. Although Larry left his truck, the keys he did not leave.

  “You’re sure the wires are the same?” Dad asked.

  “Yeah, pretty sure. I’ve checked vehicles on our raids and they’ve been the same.”

  Dad gave Theo one last glance, then relaxed. A little. “Good, let’s get the clothes packed up and put away.”

  “Dad, can I take some books?” Susan asked.

  He thought for a moment. “Yeah, go ahead, but only a few.”

  “When we get done,” Dad raised his voice to be heard over the scraping chairs, “We’ll meet back here to divvy the weapons up.”
T Francis Sharp's Novels