John O'Brien - Sanctuary

“Fine, Jack, do what you need but come back to us. Come back to me,” she says, turns, and walks away.

I rise slowly and remove the barricade leading to the roof. Trudging up the darkened stairwell feels like I’m climbing to the top of the Empire State Building. I reach the top, bump the push bar opening the latch, and swing the door open. The bright sunlight blinds my eyes that have only seen the glare of florescent lights in the past few days. It’s like everything whited-out and then swims into focus. I trudge over and sit on one of the large pipes running across the space and gaze over to the west with the sun just beginning to lower behind the evergreens beyond the open fields.

The fresh air feels good and I feel a stirring inside trying to break through the numbness. I don’t know whether to force it back down and stay numb or to let it through and feel the excruciating pain. I miss Nic , I think and with that thought, the numbness shatters. The grief rises and explodes; the sun blurs as tears run down my cheeks. I sit alone for a while realizing that she isn’t coming back but wanting the memory of who she was alive.

The roof door swings open; Robert and Bri walk through. I watch as they both walk over with their M-4’s slung over their shoulders. I stand as they approach and we throw our arms around each other. Holding them close and tight, I look at them and realize I have been vacant when they needed me. I realize they are all I have left, them and Lynn, and I need to be here for them. I need to be here and see them safe; to make sure they are capable of existing in this new world. It’s at this moment that clarity returns and I feel a semblance of myself come back. There is still the deep, longing for Nic, but I feel I can focus and carry on again.

“I’m sorry I’ve been absent and not here for you,” I say as we hug each other closely.

“That’s alright, Dad, we all miss her,” Bri says.

“Yeah, Dad, we understand,” Robert chimes in on the heels of Bri; both with tears running down their faces.

“Dad?” Bri asks looking up and wiping her tears away.

“Yes, hon,” I answer.

“I, we, want to be able to handle ourselves better, to help take care…” Bri starts saying.

“What’s Bri’s trying to say is we want to be trained like you,” Robert interrupts and finishes what Bri was beating around the bush trying to say, not knowing what my response will be.

“I was thinking along the same lines. We’ll fit that in as we build this place up,” I say sitting back on the pipe.

We watch the sun set and talk about us; relive memories. We remember the good times with Nic, talk some about the future, and even laugh some. As the sun vanishes below the trees, oranges spread across the horizon ahead of us behind the dark backdrop of the mountains. The oranges change to reds and then purples as we watch in silence; each of us content with the mere presence of each other. The day closes.

“Let’s head back downstairs and get ready for the night,” I say with a sigh; not wanting this moment to end. The world, sun, and universe doesn’t seem to care about us mere specks and our situation as time, or the measure of motion, does not stop or change but merely continues along as it always has. Or maybe it is its way of showing it cares in that time does carry on and doesn’t keep us stuck in our moment.

We rise and head down into our sanctuary, making sure the door is locked behind us and barred on the bottom. I turn and see Lynn standing close by.

“I’m back,” I say as she steps close.

“I’m so glad, Jack,” she whispers in my ear as she gives me a hug like a welcome home after a long journey.

She wakes with a start. Confusion reigns inside her head. Wasn’t she just at the door and feeling hesitant about going outside? What is she doing back in her room upstairs on the floor? Was she drugged? Her children! Yes, she was searching for them. Where are they?

She stands in the dark room feeling tired and sore. Her arm burns from a scratch and she looks down but can’t see anything in the inky blackness. She maneuvers to the bedroom door tripping over a few items in the dark but makes it across the room and opens the door. The interior is still dark but more like a deep gloom rather than the complete light void of her room. She feels the panic rise within her heart as she remembers running through the house searching for her kids. She doesn’t remember finding them or why she quit. Her last memory is of reaching for the front door hesitantly.

She rushes down the hall in her bare feet calling for her kids. Her voice only echoes along the still interior with no replying call. Her tension increases, as does the decibel level of her calls, as she searches the bedrooms. No reply, just the stillness of the house. She scrambles down the stairs with her heart pounding and feeling short of breath. She is barely able to take a breath to scream their names. Stopping in the living room, she glances at the burning on her arm from the scratch and notices her jeans and yellow top covered in grime and what appears to be dried blood.

She quickly checks herself for injuries and finds none other than soreness in her shoulder. She remembers taking these actions before and is confused as to what happened or why she suddenly found herself back in her bedroom. The serious possibility that she was drugged and her kids taken seeps into her mind. She recalls the flu pandemic that was storming across the world. Was the vaccine that she and her kids took responsible for this in some way or does the broken window indicate someone came in, drugged her, and took them? These questions tumble through her mind in her panicked state.

She quickly checks the basement noticing the boards blocking the front door have been removed and wonders if the kids left. If so, then why didn’t they say something? She’s at a loss as to what to do. Stumbling around confused and panicked, she sees her grimy shirt again and quickly changes it with another from the pile of clothes on the couch; not even noticing she put it on inside out as her mind is focused entirely on her kids. She thinks they may be at their friend’s and picks up her cell but it is dead. She picks up the landline phone and is greeted with silence. Shaking her head, she looks for her keys and can’t locate them anywhere panicking her even further.

She heads to the front door and the hesitancy she felt before stalls her hand for a moment before she turns the handle and swings it open. The brightness of the day blinds her as she steps out onto the porch and calls across the neighborhood for her kids. A black and gray striped cat down the road scampers off as her shrill voice rings out in the area. She notices there’s no one out. It’s not that her neighborhood was all that busy but there were always kids out on bikes or playing basketball on the street during nice days. Stillness hangs in the air. A slight stench similar to a garbage dump reaches her nose.

She steps in to put on a pair of shoes and walks to the end of the driveway to look along the streets; the silence of the area adds to her confusion. There’s not a thing moving anywhere other than a few blackbirds circling in the distance. Her kids remain paramount in her mind and she starts down the road in search of them.

Her plan is to go to the houses of their friends looking to see if they are there or if anyone has heard from them. It’s quite a walk but the day is early and she doesn’t know of any other way to find them. If she still can’t find them, then she’ll walk downtown to the police station. Maybe someone she knows will pass by and give her a ride or she’ll see a policeman and wave him or her down. With that in mind, she heads towards town only a short distance away.