Paul Jones - Exodus

“My name is Emily Baxter. This is my dog, Thor. We aren’t here to hurt you. I didn’t know anybody was alive here,” she explained, then added, “I didn’t know anybody was alive anywhere.”

When he next spoke, Emily thought the man’s demeanor might have softened a little. “Are you with an agency?” he asked, the edge of panic almost gone from his voice, replaced now with a tone of inquisitiveness.

“I’m sorry? Agency?” Emily was confused, but she took advantage of the moment to edge a little closer toward Thor. The malamute was still crouched low, but at least he had stopped growling.

“You’re with the government, right? Part of a rescue team. So, which agency are you with?”

Before Emily could say anything further, something exploded from the shadows of the doorway behind the father and daughter and headed straight for the dog.

Emily wasn’t sure who was more surprised: the man, herself, or Thor, who now sat bolt upright as the little shape covered the ground in small stumbling steps.

It was a little boy, no more than four or five, and he was running as fast as his legs could carry him straight at Thor, a smile of absolute delight plastered across his face.

“Doggy!” the little boy yelled as he barely avoided colliding with the dog. He threw his arms around Thor’s neck and declared again in a singsong voice, “Doggy!”

“Ben!” the man yelled, the pistol dropping to his side as panic gripped his throat. He was either too stunned to react or he was still concerned about protecting his daughter because he gave a single tentative step forward, glanced down at the girl who still clung to his waist, and froze in place, half-in, half-out of the doorway to the house.

Emily took advantage of the man’s hesitancy and covered the remaining distance between herself and Thor in two quick steps. She saw the man’s eyes go wide as she stood next to his boy and placed a reassuring hand gently on the top of the kid’s head. They went wider still when he saw the shotgun slung over her shoulder.

The child—Ben, she reminded herself—didn’t seem the least bit interested in her; he had his arms locked around Thor’s neck, his face buried deep into his ruff, whispering “doggy” over and over into the malamute’s ear.

Emily raised her hands again, trying to look as unthreatening as possible. “Look, I didn’t know anyone was here. You’re the first people I’ve seen since leaving Manhattan, and I swear to you we are absolutely no danger to you or your family. I promise.”

“Is there anyone else with you?” the man asked.

“No,” she answered. “Just me and Thor. And, as you can see, neither of us is a threat to you.” The pistol, Emily noticed, stayed at the man’s side as he spoke, and she thought she saw a slight relaxing of his posture. Even Thor seemed to have relaxed. He was busy licking the boy’s face, which elicited a mass of giggles from the kid.

Emily could see the stranger’s mind working through the situation. He looked to each of his children and then to her. Finally his eyes settled back on the little boy, who was still giggling joyfully as Thor continued to wash him.

He slipped the pistol into his waistband and stepped toward Emily, holding out a hand. Thor stopped slobbering over the child, his eyes tracking the stranger as he approached Emily but making no move.

“My name’s Simon,” he said as Emily took the proffered hand and shook it. “That’s my daughter, Rhiannon, and your dog’s newfound best friend is Benjamin.”

“I’m Emily. This is Thor,” she replied with a sigh of relief.

“Pleased to meet you both, and I’m sorry for the reception. It’s just that we haven’t seen anyone for more than a week now. I saw your dog chasing Rhia and just panicked. We’re just glad this nightmare is finally over. We were wondering how long it would be before emergency services got to the area.”

“Emergency services? I’m sorry—you think I’m with the government?”

Simon nodded. “Of course. I mean, I know things must be bad out there, what with the terrorist attack and all, but we knew it was only going to be a matter of time before someone found us. That’s why we’ve stayed put.” He turned sideways and gestured down the corridor to the interior of the house. “Come on in and make yourself at home. Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Something stronger?”

“I…I’m…” Emily was a hairbreadth away from telling him that she wasn’t part of any rescue party and that there was zero chance of one ever showing up, but she held the words back when she looked at Rhiannon’s face. The kid was obviously as relieved as her father. Now was not the time to break the news that they were the only survivors she had encountered since leaving Manhattan. That could wait until she and Simon were alone. He would be better equipped to break the news to his kids, rather than having them hear it blurted out from a stranger.

“I’ll take a cup of coffee,” she said instead, stepping past the man and into his home.

Emily waited in the entryway for Simon and the children to join her.

He looked to be somewhere in his late thirties, dark-brown hair, athletic build, dressed casually in jeans and a polo shirt. All sense of threat had gone from him now, and Emily wondered whether he would really have been able to use the pistol on either Thor or her.

The children stayed close to their dad. She couldn’t blame them, of course. She was a complete stranger who had just chased the girl through the woods with what must have appeared, at least to anyone who didn’t know him, to be a bloodthirsty hound.

“Come on in.” Simon gestured for her to follow him as he closed the front door behind him and made his way down the entrance corridor.

In the confines of the narrow corridor, Emily became acutely aware of just how bad she smelled. Sweat, dirt, and an underlying aroma of lemon baby wipes. Social anxiety was not something she’d thought she’d ever have to worry about again.

She was amazed at just how incredibly clean and tidy the house was. How very normal it all seemed. From somewhere deeper in the house, Emily could hear the sound of music playing, and it took her a few seconds to realize what that potentially meant.

“You have power here?” she asked.

“Yup,” said Simon as he led her into the kitchen area. “Totally self-sufficient. We have a backup generator that we use to power the house, and we’re on our own well and septic system.”

“You have running water?” she asked, amazed.

Simon looked at her, his face betraying his puzzlement. “Suuuurre. Running water. Hot water, too. We’ve got a propane tank outside, but I’ve tried not to use it too much because we only have enough propane for six weeks, a bit longer if we really ration it. I hoped help would arrive before it ran out.”

She tried not to allow her astonishment to show.

“We were about to grab some lunch. Would you like to join us?”

“I’d love to,” Emily answered with a smile. “But do you think I could freshen up first? I’ve been on the road for a few days.”

“Of course. Of course. Rhia. Why don’t you show Emily where the guest bedroom is?”

Thor was still happily engaged with Benjamin. The dog seemed to have settled in quite happily to being the center of the little boy’s attention; he was lying on his side in front of a large potted fern while the boy playfully rubbed his tummy and head. The kid hadn’t even made eye contact with Emily since they’d arrived; he was totally besotted with the dog. Kids! How very simple life was for them.

“You’re very smelly,” said the little girl, wrinkling her nose as she took Emily’s hand and started to lead her from the living room toward a staircase at the back of the house.