Rise from the Ashes

Chapter 13: Teen 1: Officers 0

The sheets were cloud-like softness, pillows fluffed, and the night passed without so much as a chirp.

'I hate this,' Em groaned, sitting up in bed while Max snored.

Captain Weaver rustled in the kitchen during the early morning, the coffee pot rubbled, and the quiet sound of the toaster popping signaled a route morning. Keys jangling echoed in the silence accompanied by the scuffling of papers.

'Is he leaving?' she wondered.

Loud footsteps approached her door, sending her flopping down under the covers. Though the door never opened. His footsteps retreated, the front door clanked open before softly closing.

'Holy shit, he's leaving me alone.'

Scuffling to her feet, she carefully cracked open her door and peeked out into the dim-lit home. The overhead stove lights had been left on, and a bright yellow sticky note was left on her door.

'Be back after shift, help yourself to anything,' it read in tiny cursive.

"Wouldn't expect that from a guy," she thought out loud.

Venturing out into the living room, Em peeked out the grand window noticing the blue Civic stationed in full view. The interior car light indicated that someone was awake while the rest of the quiet neighborhood rested in its slumber.

"Max-" she began stepping back into her room until her eyes landed on the sleeping puppy.

'It is 6. I'll let him sleep a little longer,' she thought, laying back down. 'It wouldn't kill me to get a few more hours of sleep either.'

The slobber fest hit around 8 o'clock.

"I'm up," she exclaimed out of habit as the strangely warm, gooey liquid smothered her cheek. "Really?"

Max only twirled in a circle and gave a small bark in reply before jumping off the bed and sneaking out to the kitchen. Groggy Em followed after him to a half-filled water dish and an empty bowl.

'Oh, right, he doesn't have any food,' she remembered, flashing back to last night when Weaver had to ask one of his neighbors for kibble.

"How about toast and peanut butter?" Em asked, noticing the partial loaf of bread beside the toaster.

Max whimpered, twirled once more while drool spilled from his mouth.

"Ok, ok, give me a minute," she continued popping the bread in. "Now to find the peanut butter."

Snooping through the upper cabinets, Em found boxes of unopened cereal, miscellaneous bags of chips and crackers, along with multiple boxes of pasta.

'Again, a lot of one guy,' she thought, investing the last cupboard. 'Bingo.'

Grabbing the jar, exposed a collection of pills. Curiously she put the jar aside and looked over the miny bottles, the long, complicated names didn't ring any bells, and the low dosage meant Weaver was popping pills.

'They're kind of like the meds I was issued,' she determined, reading over the infection-killing labels. 'And they were given to him over three years ago. So why does he still have them?'

Barking brought her attention back to reality. Putting the medicine back, she embarked on the search for silverware. Pulling out the drawer under the toast, the knives revealed themselves. More whimpering and drool consumed Max's mouth as he impatiently waited for his meal.

"Alright, here you go," she mumbled, tossing one of the pieces of toast smothered in peanut butter.

Max devoured the slice whole, licking at the peanut butter that splattered to the side of his face. The second piece went down just as quick as the first, filling his stomach.