Ryan Westfield - Getting Out

They were seated in the woods. Sadie had her back against a tall tree, and James sat cross-legged. A rifle lay in his lap. There was one propped up against the tree against which Sadie leaned.

James nodded. “She’s probably fine,” he said. “You know Mom, she doesn’t take shit from anybody.”

“Except us,” said Sadie.

Maybe she was right.

James didn’t want to admit it to his sister, but he was worried. The day was wearing on. He didn’t know what time it was, but it was at least mid-afternoon.

The sun wasn’t shining brightly. Instead, there were thick clouds that had rolled in slowly throughout the day.

From where they sat, they could see the truck parked on the side of the road. The gear was exposed completely in the bed of the truck. So far, not a single vehicle had driven by. They must have been taking some serious back roads, if not a single car had passed.

James had, throughout the day, turned to his old life. He wondered what had happened to his friends from school, especially his buddy Jimmy, and Mia, the girl he’d been crushing on hard for the last three months… she just had a body that made him go crazy when he looked at her.

He’d spoken to her a few times, but only managed to mutter one or two words, and she’d given him this look like he was an alien or something. But he was getting there… But now he didn’t have any idea what Mia or Jimmy’s fates would be. For all he knew, the whole area had descended into chaos. Then again, James had probably watched too many zombie movies. Maybe they were all just going to starve to death. Or maybe they were going to wander into the country looking for food… Maybe they’d be eating each other. James didn’t know. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to know.

James knew that he needed to concentrate on the present. If they were going to survive, he needed to be helping his mom. Sadie had saved the day back at the McKinneys’, but now she seemed to be retreating to the role that she was comfortable with, which was mainly whining and complaining.

“I’m hungry,” said Sadie, grabbing another can of soup.

The two of them had brought some of the provisions into the woods with them.

“Speak more quietly,” said James. “And we need to save that food.”

“No one’s here,” said Sadie. “And I’m hungry. I need my energy.”

“You think I’m not hungry?” said James.

“I wish Mom was back,” said Sadie.

“Shh,” hissed James.

“You’re always trying to shut me up,” complained Sadie.

“No, serious. I hear something.”

Sadie fell silent.

Sure enough, there was a sound coming from somewhere down the road.

“It sounds like an engine,” whispered Sadie.

Maybe her hearing was better than James’s. It took another ten seconds before he could identity the sound. Sure enough, it did sound like an engine. Someone was driving up the road.

“What do we do?” whispered Sadie. She sounded terrified, and James knew that he had to protect her. And protect the truck and their gear.

He briefly thought of his mother and hoped that she was OK, whatever she was getting herself into. She hadn’t proven to be too adept at stealing at the McKinneys’, and he hoped she’d learned something from that. What that something was, James had no idea.

It took at least a minute for the vehicle to appear in front of them.

They were seated slightly up above the road, and they both looked down. James was surprised to see that the car was a shiny, new-looking SUV. It was one of those big ones, with darkly tinted windows. He couldn’t see inside, but he had an ominous feeling deep in the pit of his stomach.

The SUV stopped right next to the pickup.

But no one got out.

He and Sadie exchanged a look of concern.

Finally, with the engine of the SUV still running, the door opened and the driver got out.

He was a huge man, muscular and fit. He wore a tight t-shirt that showed off his bulging muscles.

No one else got out of the car, but for all James knew, it could have been full of other passengers.

The man looked around him, apparently looking for the owner of the pickup. He seemed to look right at James as he scanned the woods, but he must not have seen him. After all, the brush and leaves were thick, and the man wore dark sunglasses, which wouldn’t have helped him see well on the cloudy day.

Sadie was mouthing something at James, and he hoped she wouldn’t speak. They were close enough that if she did, the man would certainly hear her. Fortunately, she had enough sense not to. James noticed that she was slowly reaching for her rifle. He had shown her the basics, how to check to make sure it was loaded, how to disengage the safety, how to feel for the catch point on the trigger.

James watched in horror as the muscular man opened the door to his mother’s pickup and stuck his head in, apparently looking for something. Next, he got out and started poking around in the bed.

The muscular man grabbed a couple shopping bags of food, walked calmly towards his on SUV, popped the automatic rear door, and started loading the food into it.

“He’s going to steal everything,” whispered Sadie in the quietest voice James had ever heard. But he understood her, and the sound of the shopping bags rustling must have been enough to cover the whisper.

James had to act. And he had to act soon. His job was to protect his family, and that meant protecting their food and their supplies. He couldn’t let some stranger simply rob them.

James clutched his rifle tightly, but he didn’t yet bring it into firing position. His heart rate had skyrocketed. He was breathing heavily. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew what he had to do.

Chad was in a sweaty daze, yet he was also on edge. It had been hours since he’d taken his last Vicodin, and he was not enjoying the withdrawal effects one bit. He’d been through this before, when he’d tried to clean up. It hadn’t gone well. He’d ended up destroying half his apartment in an angry rage, screaming at his landlord, and perhaps throwing a cat somewhere, not that he could really remember much of it.

The pills were in Max’s Jeep. Chad cursed himself for leaving them there, but he was always letting stuff accidentally fall out of his pockets, so he’d stuffed the pills in that seat pocket behind Max’s seat.

Not that he could have gotten the pills anyway.

His hands were bound with something, and he lay on his side on the dirty floor in an uncomfortable position. But he was too far into the withdrawal to care about it.

Some of the men who’d dragged them from the Jeep were seated nearby. They sat in lawn chairs around a dying fire, discussing something in low voices.

They’d grilled him practically all night, asking him repeatedly who he worked for. Chad didn’t know where Max and Mandy were, or what had happened to them.

Chad was scared, worried, and confused. But a lot of that fear didn’t have to do with these men. As the night had worn on, it had become clear that these men were just some regular guys from a small town. They were scared that everything had turned off, that there was no power and no communications. They were in the same situation everyone else was in, except that they were in a small town. And so they feared the worst—some kind of foreign government takeover.

One of them got lazily up from his lawn chair. “I’ll go interrogate him some more,” he said sleepily and halfheartedly.

He walked slowly over to Chad, who watched his dirty boots as they came closer to him.

“So,” said the man. “You say you’re not with the Russians, or the Chinese… So who are you with?”