If We Survive The Night

News

Jaden

Finishing the second slice of pizza, I unlock my phone and check the local news site. The very first headline that jumps at me is: 'Gunfire erupts at East Hills: Police hunt for suspects in home invasion.' There's a picture, taken from outside the fence, of the mansion we've left not an hour ago. There seem to be lights in every window, making the place look almost festive if you choose to ignore the police cars parked in the foreground.

"Oh wow, that was fast." I swallow the last of the pizza and wash it down with some Coke. Mom never bought Coke, because of all the sugar, so adding it to my grocery list was one of the first changes I've made since her departure.

"What was fast?" Casey looks up from his still untouched slice of pizza.

"Just eat. I'll show you later."

I click on the article and scroll through it. As expected, there're few details at this stage. Nothing about the fate of those inside the house, or the identity of the attackers. Apparently, all the reporters know is that a shooting took place, with some victims wounded, possibly killed.

"I can't eat," Casey says.

"Force yourself."

"I'll throw up."

I look up from my phone. I can understand why he's not hungry, but he looks so pale and exhausted that getting some food into him seems like a priority.

"At least drink the Coke," I say. "You need some sugar."

"There's no gas in it."

I sigh. It's like babysitting an uncooperative toddler. Yet he's been through some serious shit today, so I make an effort.

"All right, how about some Hazel's cooking?" I get up and go to the living room, where I extract the leftover box from the backpack. As I return to the kitchen, Casey's scrolling down my phone, reading the article. I open the Tupperware and bring a couple of plates and forks.

"Mashed potato and chicken," I announce.

He slides the phone back to me on the table. "The don't say anything about who got hurt."

"There'll be an update soon."

He nods, then looks into the Tupperware that I nudge closer to him. "Oh, we've had this for supper tonight."

"Great, now you can have it again."

He gives me an inquiring look. "Hazel gave this to you?"

"Yes," I say defensively, remembering that me having their leftovers might classify as stealing, depending how you look at it. "Is that a problem?"

"No." He picks a fork and scoops up some mashed potatoes. "Hazel knows to do it right. Like, the best mashed potatoes ever."

I chuckle. "Yep, for sure."

Talking about Hazel gives me an idea, and I grab my phone again. I've been wanting to text her since we left the mansion, but given the circumstances, I feared the incoming message would make noise at the wrong moment. Now, with the house full of police officers, it should be fine, so I text her 'You okay?'

At the top of the screen, I can see the last time she was online—about an hour ago, probably when she called the police. I wait patiently for the two blue checkmarks to appear, signifying that she's seen the message. They don't.

"She must be busy," I say. "Probably getting questioned and all that."

My phone screen goes dark, and I reach to unlock it again, but then decide to leave it alone. She will see the message in her own time. There's no use in obsessing about it. I pick up my fork and the knife and cut a piece of a chicken breast for myself, leaving the mashed potatoes to Casey who distractedly picks at them with his fork.