EZEKIAL | A SHORT STORY

Ezekial

Ezekial hid in the cellar of the abandoned house all the kids in town were afraid of. He chose it because it was falling down.

Perhaps Simon and his men wouldn't look for him in such a place.

As a boy, he camped every summer with his family and worked hard for years to become an Eagle Scout. He knew the land. He knew how to survive. He could wait them out through the winter if he had to.

As long as the house remained standing.

Days before, he got a message out to Petre. He left a ten-second voicemail and hoped it was enough. He had to turn off the phone, toss the battery, crush it under his heels. Better to be alone than tracked by the team sent to fetch him.

Huddled in the back of the cellar, he estimated the temperature outside was below zero. He wondered if the makeshift thermals would protect him.

There was a sound above.

Footsteps. Stop. Another. Stop.

Then the person started to tap dance. He almost laughed out loud but stopped himself. It could be a trap.

"Hello, my baby! Hello, my darling! Hello, my ragtime gal!"

"Petre!" his voice was a whisper but the sound of his feet charging across the upper floor told him Petre heard his name. "Thank god."

As he reached the door into the kitchen, it was thrown open. Petre gave him a grin. "Zeke! You silly ass! Get out here so we can find you some real clothes and warmth. Let's get you a decent meal."

"Jonathan? Did he make it?" Petre shook his head. "Fuck! I left him at the hospital. The bullets were too deep to extract..."

"He lost too much blood. They destroyed his gut. Nothing would have saved him."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't, man. You took out seven of those psychopaths. You wounded?"

"A shallow graze across my low back, one in the calf and one that lodged in the upper skin of my thigh. I got them out but I worry about infection."

"Let's go. Simon's men are on the other side of the county. We're catching a plane in an hour. We need to get you back to Seattle so you can tell the organization what's happening."

He started to hug Petre but the man pulled back. "No offense but you smell like rat shit and corn cobs. Shower and then I'll reward you for making it through this alive."

"I'm going to hold you to that."

"I'm sure you will."

© Charlize Rojos