L Akers - Shoot Like a Girl

Emma ran, weaving around Edith’s rose bushes, a huge Oak, and then around the corner, trying to catch them out front.

It was too late. They were already out and halfway through the yard, heading for Elmer’s truck.

She gave chase around the other side of the house, took a knee, and aimed, already knowing it was too far. She wished she’d grabbed one of the rifles they’d confiscated from the men on the road, instead.

Dirt flew up around the men as her shots fell short. They ran like their asses were on fire, jumping into the truck—two in the back and one in the front—and took off, kicking up a cloud of dirt, the muffler screaming behind them.

Elmer ran up beside her. “Cover your ears!”

Emma turned away, doing her best to cover both ears while holding her gun in one hand. Elmer fired again, spraying the driveway, and sending up a shower of gravel and dust.

Tucker raced to Sarah’s door, his dirt-covered T-shirt stretched out in front of him like a make-shift bag. Four cans of infant formula clanked and splashed against each other as he ran.

Jake and Grayson jogged behind him, every inch of their faces other than around their eyes covered in red dirt. Their arms, hands, and especially their clothes were filthy. Grayson carried a bag of diapers in one hand, and the other was held against his jaw, every step bringing him more pain. Jake juggled a dozen jars of baby food in the front of his own shirt.

The three men ran up to the door, and after a quick rap of the knuckles, a haggard-looking Sarah swung it wide open, with Sammi held up against her shoulder.

If not for the stick-like limbs, Tucker would have thought Sarah was holding a five-pound sack of potatoes. Sammi’s patchy skin was sallow, laying in tiny rows of wrinkles at the elbows and ankles, as though wearing a suit that was too big.

The tiny bundle wasn’t moving… not even a breath could be detected.

Tucker’s heart raced and time stood still.

Am I too late?

Sarah’s eyes widened. “You found some?”

She reached out and plucked a can from Tucker’s shirt and turned and hurried into her kitchen. Tucker and the guys tried to stomp the dirt from their shoes, and followed her in.

Looking around frantically, she turned and handed Sammi to Tucker, not giving him even a second to prepare, and then pulled open a drawer, grabbing a hand-held can opener. She snatched up a pan, put it on the table-top Coleman camp stove, poked two holes in the top of the can and poured it in. While that was slowly heating, her fingers searched through the dish-drainer for a clean bottle, nipple and ring.

Tucker stared down at the tiny girl that lay awkwardly in his outstretched arms. Her eyelashes fluttered softly, like tiny butterflies against her cheeks, and her eyes opened. She whimpered softly at the loss of her mother’s warmth.

Grayson and Jake stood behind him, peeking over his shoulder. “Bring her up against your chest, dude,” Grayson whispered and then winced, holding his hand against his face.

Tucker pulled the infant close. She was so small. Her fingertips ended with little white nails that looked like upside-down crescent moons. The tiny package tugged at his heart; so very sick and still. Flashbacks of each of his own four children at this age zoomed through his mind. He remembered when they were sick, too. Not this sick… but so many nights of ear infections or stomach viruses had passed with him lovingly holding them to his heart while Katie changed their bedding, made them a bottle, or gathered fresh diapers and medicine.

No matter how many times it had happened, nor how many kids he’d brought up, he still remembered the helpless, terrified feeling of your own child being so ill. He remembered wishing he could trade places… take it from them and bear it himself.

And this child was much, much sicker than he’d ever seen one of his own. The agony that Sarah was going through must be unbearable.

Sarah poured the formula into the bottle and shook it with her finger over the nipple, then squirted a drop onto her wrist. Still not totally sure, she squirted some onto her tongue and grimaced. It was ready.

Taking Sammi from Tucker, she hurried into the living room and sat in a rocker, cooing to her in a soft voice. She adjusted a pillow and pulled her in close to her chest attempted to get her to latch onto the bottle, sliding the rubber nipple across her tiny chapped lips.

The baby mewed softly, but it was startlingly loud in the silent house.

Tucker, Jake and Grayson flinched as one.

Sarah threw a frustrated glance at the guys and tried again.

Sammi turned her head; first left, then right.

Sarah’s hand was shaking, making it that much harder.

Tucker held his breath. If he was a betting man, he’d have bet money that Sammi wouldn’t have survived one more night without some sort of sustenance. Anyone could see she was nearly starved to death already. Silently, he prayed the baby would drink.

Sarah shakily tried again, this time getting the nipple into the baby’s mouth. The guys all breathed a sigh of relief, as Sarah’s face lit up.

The relief was short-lived. Sammi pushed the milk right back out again with her tongue, and Sarah erupted into tears. “You have to drink, Sammi!” she yelled, causing the baby to jerk in surprise at her mother’s unusual outburst.

Grayson gave Tucker a little shove. “ Help her. You got four kids, cowboy. I’m sure you’ve done this before. That poor woman is about to break,” he whispered.

Tucker threw a dirty look at Grayson from over his shoulder but hurried over and knelt in front of them. Gently, he wiped the milk off the baby’s face and neck with a cloth diaper that had hung over the arm of the rocker.

“Shhh…” Tucker said to Sarah. “You’re probably upsetting her. She doesn’t need to hear you cry.”

Sarah thrust Sammi and the bottle to Tucker and quickly stood up. “I can’t do it. She doesn’t want this. She smells me, but she wants what I can’t give her.”

Tucker watched in disbelief as she stomped out of the room, trying her best not to cry out loud. With pleading eyes, he looked to Jake.

Jake backed up. “No way, dude. I don’t even have kids.”

Grayson shook his head and offered his own lame excuse. “My tooth is killing me. I can’t do it either.”

All three men were a nervous wreck.

Reluctantly, Tucker sat down in the rocker, doing his best to push the pillow in place the same way Sarah had. He pulled the baby close and shook the bottle, turning it upside down to get a drop of milk to come out, and then rubbed Sammi’s tiny lips with it.

As he held his breath, the little girl tried to latch on. Slowly, she began to drink.

Grayson and Jake leaned in to watch. “ Phew . That stuff stinks,” Grayson whispered.

Tucker glanced at him in disapproval, but wrinkled his nose. “Yeah. It does,” he admitted.

Jake and Grayson looked on in awe, the baby finally at peace in Tucker’s arms. Slowly, he began to rock her, getting more comfortable, and suddenly the little girl came to life, greedily sucking at the milk.

Her stick-like arms and legs jerked spasmodically. Tucker looked toward the door that Sarah had disappeared through in alarm. “Sarah?” he called out.

Sarah reappeared, poking a tear-stained face around the doorframe. “Is she taking it?”

“She is. But does she always jerk like this?”

Grayson and Jake moved back again to their respective spots as Sarah tiptoed back to her child. “Stop, Tucker! She’s throwing up!”

Tucker wrenched the bottle out her mouth. He tugged the cloth diaper out from under his leg and mopped up the spew, wrinkling his lip in revulsion. “Here, take her,” he said, and stood up.