Linda Andrews - The Meltdown

Eddie snorted.

She speared him with a look. He hadn’t taken up the mantle of leadership in the months since he and his brother had wandered into her school. Why was he challenging her now?

His eyes narrowed above the gas mask. After returning the shells to his pocket, he raised the shotgun and prodded Stuart’s shoulder. “Back up there, Stuie, Princess A is in charge of our little kingdom. If you want to ride the magic carpet, you have to pledge allegiance to the kingdom upon which she stands.”

Audra blinked. Had Eddie just defended her?

“We have a right to protect ourselves.” Stuart slithered back into the shadows. “We must shoot them! Kill them!”

“Princess A.” Standing near the side door, Principal Dunn cleared his throat. “What are your orders?”

She jerked her head once. Their show of solidarity meant a lot. “Defending ourselves is one thing, Stuart.” Striding to the drive-thru window, she ripped a large paper bag from the stack. “Murder is another. Now, I need those with oil to follow Principal Dunn to the buses. He’ll show you which ones to fill up so we can leave. Have our armed people stand by the station, out of sight. We don’t want to provoke a firefight.”

Eddie set the shotgun on his shoulder. “But we can return fire if they shoot first?”

“Yes. Fine.” She planned to be far away by the time they arrived. Which meant she needed more information. “I’ll need a walkie and want an update on where they are and how fast they’re coming.”

“They have weapons,” Stuart shouted. “They’ll shoot you as soon as they see you.”

She forced her jaw to relax. God forgive her, it was so tempting to just leave them here. Nine more miles. Nine more miles to the soldiers. “Confirm if they have weapons. Long range. Not bats and such.”

She had no doubt they were a threat, but so was Stuart’s hysteria.

Six people with a gallon jug of oil in each hand averted their eyes as they shuffled around Stuart and jogged toward the principal.

“Follow me!” The principal waved his pistol, adjusted the handkerchief covering his face and raced out the door.

Audra threaded the bag over the napkin holder then wedged her finger under the napkins and lifted them into the sack. “I need the rest of you to gather up any more oil and, when that runs out, paper products before making your way to the buses.”

Setting his shotgun within reach on the counter, Eddie stuffed more take-out bags with utensils, salt and pepper and condiments. “You heard her. Let’s move it people!”

No one else budged. She rubbed her forehead then grabbed another sack and filled it with ketchup. If they didn’t help, they didn’t go. The skin between her shoulder blades itched. It was a nice idea, but she couldn’t live with herself if she put in in practice.

An accusing finger emerged from the shadowy kitchen. The swollen ball at the joint spoke of painful arthritis. Age lined the old man’s face like a map to hard to reach places. “You brought this upon us! They had left us in peace until you arrived.”

They hadn’t been safe. She folded the top of the bag holding the ketchup then dumped the salt, pepper and sweetener into a fresh one. “It’s possible. The buses are noisy.” Especially, when this post-Redaction world was devoid of electricity. “They certainly would have noticed them in the parking lot. They’re painted yellow to draw your attention.”

Not that she would apologize. The bumble bee colors had been designed to protect the children. Who knew the world would go to pot and turn it on its ear. As for the danger, she made a calculated risk when she pulled in, plus she hadn’t known they’d hidden inside. Shaking out a new bag, she raked in the utensils. “If we all work together, we’ll get out of here faster.”

Stuart wedged his fingers through his hair, until it stood up in brown spikes. “You have to shoot them! They’ll just follow us.”

“Do they have vehicles?” Eddie lined up the bags on the counter in front of his weapon.

Audra quickly cleared the rest of the supplies and added her bags to the line. Now she had to go into the back, through his mannequin people. Wiping her damp hands on her jeans, she faced the darkness.

Stuart licked his lips. “Well, no…”

“Then we can outrun them.” Fleeing was far better than stooping to barbarism. “But we can’t outrun them without fuel. Please direct your people to carry out the oil.”

Near the bathrooms, her mother nodded and smiled softly. Bowing her head, she whispered into the ear of the preteen boy who stood directly in front of her. He grabbed the hand of the younger kids waiting next to him and shuffled forward, grabbing a sack as he passed. The next child followed his example as did the one after until all the ones who’d used the facilities filed past.

At least, some people followed her direction. The others would need to if they expected to survive. Unclipping the walkie at her waist, she switched it on. The batteries were still dead. Darn it. No wonder she hadn’t received an update. She glared at Stuart. The time for dinking around had come to an end.

“Everyone grab as much cooking oil as you can carry.”

Silence greeted her request.

What were they, statues? She clapped her hands. “Now, people!”

Three women squeezed between the fry area. Blanket slings bulged from their bellies and backs. Shoulders stooped under the weight of the gallons of golden oil.

One, with a preschooler clinging to the bloodied hem of her skirt, paused. “This gets us a ticket on the bus?”

Audra smiled and set her hand on the cold metal of the fry station. Ten of the forty were helping. Things were looking up. “Absolutely.”

The cortege rounded the counter just as Principal Dunn jogged through the side door. His mask hung under his nose; his hands remained empty. Panting, he bent over, one hand on his knee and held out a walkie. “Buses are gassed up with three gallons each but we’ve still got seventeen bodies to unload.”

“Get as many off as you can. We can unload the rest, if we need to stop and refuel.” On the SanTan freeway where it was safe, or God willing, with the soldiers.

“You okay with me helping?” Walking to the lobby, Eddie cradled his shotgun but his gaze stuck on Stuart.

And leave her alone with the do-nothings? No, but duty called. She squared her shoulders. “Sure.”

He snatched the walkie from the principal’s hand and tossed it to her. “Call if you need…anything, Princess.”

She caught the warm plastic with a thump.

After touching the muzzle of his shotgun to his forehead, Eddie sprinted outside, followed closely by the principal.

Six more people emerged from the back. Three more middle-aged adults each carried a box containing four gallons of cooking oil. Pepperoni pizza acne scarred the chin, cheeks and nose of a teen girl. She held a snot-nosed baby on one hip and the hand of a boy missing his two front teeth.

“We carry for them.” The last woman sucked back her dentures after she spoke.

She inhaled slowly, fighting for calm. Perhaps, she’d come on a bit strong if they’d thought she’d leave children behind. “Thank you.” Leaning back, she caught sight of her mother by the bathrooms. Two lines of children waited patiently by the wall. “Mom, how much longer until everyone is finished with their business?”

Jacqueline counted heads then her fingers. “The last dozen should be wrapping up now. Then I’ll do a sweep and we’ll return to our busses.”

Fabric rustled in the kitchen. People grunted. Finally, they seemed to be moving.

At last, some good news. Holding the walkie to her mouth, she pressed the talk button. “Are the visitors still on their way?”