Ryan Westfield - Pushing On

Miller’s first day of kindergarten, when he’d been a boisterous kid full of energy, ready to cause havoc, ready to make the kindergarten teacher cry.

The little film cut off suddenly. Miller knew no more.

“Did you hear that?” said Mandy.

Georgia nodded.

It had been the unmistakable sound of a gun going off. A handgun, by the sound of it.

“What do we do?”

Georgia didn’t answer. She was worried about their safety and their future. Most of all, she was worried about her daughter. What Kara had described wasn’t any kind of life. It’d be a life of confinement and unparalleled misery.

They needed to get out of there.

“If only Max were here.”

“We can’t rely on Max now. We’ve got to work this out ourselves. You still have your knife, right?”

Mandy nodded, patting her cheap utility knife in its sheath.

“Good.”

Georgia took out her own knife, a Buck 110. It was big and heavy, but in reality the clip point blade wasn’t that long. The Mora blade might have been longer. It’d work, though, in a pinch. It had a solid lockup, and Georgia felt fairly confident it’d function as a weapon without the lock folding and the blade snapping closed on her fingers.

“What are we going to do, Mom?”

“We’re going to fight.”

“Without guns?”

“There aren’t any other options. We’re going to have to fight our way out. We can’t stay here.”

“What about James?”

“We’re going to try to find him. James can take care of himself.”

“Do you think he’ll come looking for us?”

“Definitely.”

Georgia didn’t want to admit it out loud, but she was worried that James was going to get himself killed trying to get them out of there. Once he got wind of the plan, there was no way he would stand for it. But he was still smaller than an adult, and weaker. He’d grow into a man one day, hopefully, but he wasn’t yet there yet. He wasn’t a match for the men here.

“Do you hear that?” whispered Mandy.

Georgia heard it. There were footsteps right outside the door. They weren’t heavy.

Georgia knew those footsteps.

“James?” she called out, hoping against hope that she wasn’t wrong.

“Mom?”

“James! Can you get the lock?”

“What’s happening, James?” said Sadie.

“There’s no time for that,” said Georgia, thinking practically. “Can you open the lock?”

“I don’t have a key.”

“What do you have?”

“A handgun. From a dead guy. They took my bullets. I don’t have much time.”

“OK, shoot the lock. Do it at an angle so that there’s no risk of it ricocheting off and hitting you.”

James said nothing.

But a moment later, there was a gunshot.

“James?”

“One second.”

She heard James pulling the busted lock off of the door.

The next thing she knew, James had thrown the door open. He stood tall in the doorway, looking more like a man than ever before. There was blood on him.

“Have you been shot? Are you injured?”

James shook his head.

There wasn’t time for him to tell them what had happened. But it was there in his eyes—something had happened, for sure.

“They’ll be coming. They’ll have heard the gunshot.”

Georgia turned to see Mandy already grabbing her gear.

“Sadie, get your stuff. Quick. James, stay outside. Shoot anyone who comes.”

“Where’s Chad?” said Mandy.

“He didn’t make it.”

No one said anything. They were rushing for their gear.

Georgia hated to keep James outside like that, exposed to anything that might come his way. She feared a bullet might lodge itself in James’s chest. The only thing that was protecting him now was the mild darkness of the compound. There were some ambient lights—powered by a battery that had been protected during the EMP—and lights from the building, that gave more background light than you’d find in the depths of the woods.

In mere moments, they had most of their stuff.

James stuck his head inside.

“We’re going to have a hard time getting out of here. I see them, off on the other side. They’re grouping up. Or waiting.”

“I know.”

“What’s the plan then, Mom?”

Georgia didn’t know. She didn’t see how they could possibly get out.

There were concrete walls they’d have to scale. And there were people on watch all over. They’d never get all of the group safely over the walls.

Getting through the front gate would be problematic, to say the least. There was a guard always there.

The real problem was that the compound wasn’t that large. And there were a lot of people in it.

There wasn’t really anywhere to hide.

They were going to have to try, though. There wasn’t anything else to do. Staying wasn’t an option. She wouldn’t let Mandy or her daughter go through that, no matter how far down the road it was. The threat was simply too serious.

“Everyone ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Did they take your ammo too?” said James.

“Yeah.”

“Here, Mom,” said James, handing the handgun to Georgia. “You should have this. You can use it better than any of us.”

Georgia took it. She handed her Buck knife to James.

“Everyone have a knife?”

They all nodded, and showed their knives.

Sadie looked terrified, but there wasn’t any time to comfort her.

“Just so everyone knows,” blurted out James, suddenly, as they all filed through the doorway. “Chad tried to save me. It was the last thing he did.”

Georgia knew there was something else that James wasn’t telling them. But it wasn’t the time to delve into that now. Maybe never.

“We’ll head into the shadows, between the buildings,” whispered Georgia.

She kept the handgun ready, as she led everyone, single file, out into the shadows.

They were just in time.

There were footsteps coming. Heavy boots. Lots of men. No way to tell how many. Frantic whispers and commands.

Georgia realized they’d be pursued. They couldn’t hide long.

She stopped. “We’re going to have to head out the gate. It’s going to be dangerous. But there’s no other way.”

The cars, everyone knew, were outside the concrete walls. Georgia felt for the keys in her pocket. They were still there. Max had the other set.

Where was Max?

No time for that now.

“We’ll never make it out,” said Mandy.

“We’ve got to try.”

“We’re talking about the lives of your kids here. And ours too.”

They were talking in hushed whispers, in the shadows. The concrete walls were on either side, creating a narrow alley. It was as if they were prisoners of war. The once-inviting compound had transformed into a prison camp.

“It’s better than the alternative. We’ve got to get out. Or die trying.”

Georgia gritted her teeth to prevent tears forming in her eyes.

“You go ahead,” she said to Mandy. “James and Sadie, follow Mandy. I’ll take up the rear. I’ve got the one working gun. Use your rifles as clubs. Use your knives.”

“Mom…” said Sadie, tugging on Georgia’s sleeve.

“Go!” hissed Georgia.

A single tear managed to escape her eye, but no one saw it. They were already heading through the dark corridor between the barracks.

The front gate was maybe 100 feet down in that direction, off to the side.

“They’re over there!”

“I see one!”

The shouts from the men were coming. They weren’t trying to be quiet now. They were shouting, murmuring, their boots stomping. They had become an angry mob, intent on taking the women back.