Emily's Heart

Chapter 8: The Apocalyptic World

8  Taisha

The Apocalyptic World

With her left hand, Taisha tightly gripped her daughter’s small, brown hand. In her right arm, she held a bag of groceries. Taisha walked as swiftly as she thought her daughter could keep up. At four, Brianna was too small to walk fast, but far too big to carry in one arm.

“I tired, Mama. Carry.”

“You’re a big girl, sweeting. You gotta walk on your own two feet.”

“But I tired,” the girl whined.

The mother let out a breath and tried her best to ignore the request. It was only a little further. Her daughter could make it.

“I tiiirrred!”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake. Come here.” Taisha stopped. Her daughter’s arms stretched up, ready for a pick-up. The mother negotiated the child onto her left hip, her arm tucked tightly around the small girl’s waist.

Brianna was cumbersome in her arm, but Taisha felt better having her close. Every time Taisha left her house, fear gripped her. It was a new sensation for her. Taisha had never been a fearful person. She’d grown up in the projects and had walked the city streets her whole life. She knew some self-defense, and she knew how to handle herself against street thugs and obnoxious gang kids.

But lately, she was afraid all of the time. If someone were to ask her why, she couldn’t have said. It was only a feeling. Like something bad was all around. Like shadows lurked everywhere.

There were muggings and robberies to fuel drug habits. Sure, that stuff had always been around. But it had gotten worse. And there were the stories of people gone missing. A lot of people gone missing, and most of them were kids. The police had no leads, and the bodies were never found.

She couldn’t give a logical reason why she thought this, but she believed – no, she knew – that the police weren’t seriously trying to find the missing people. In fact, she felt certain that somehow the police didn’t care about crime anymore. As she thought about it, it didn’t seem like people were nearly as upset, scared or outraged as they should have been. Six months ago, there would have been protests and public outcry at the lack of movement by the police department to find the missing people. But folks didn’t bother to put up the posters with faces of missing kids anymore. It seemed like everyone had shrugged it off.

What could have happened to them?

The hair on her neck was on end at the thought, and she hugged Brianna more tightly. Her arms felt like they would fall out of their sockets. She looked up and saw the landing of her brownstone.

Almost home. Thank God! Her small apartment wasn’t much, but at least there she felt safe. She’d bolt the door behind them, pull the chain, and close all of the blinds and curtains. Inside, she’d feel protected in her small fortress.

There it was again, the cold feeling. There wasn’t a breeze, and it was a warm evening. But she suddenly felt cold. Cold from within.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw it. It looked like a shadow, but larger and darker than most. The sun was low in the sky, far too late in the day for such a dark, long shadow. But the darkness crept up behind her anyway.

Taisha had learned not to look people in the eye on the street. You keep your eyes to yourself, look straight ahead, like you’re looking to a horizon. If there are people on the sidewalk walking toward you, you look over them – or through them – like they’re not there. You never look into people’s eyes, and don’t look behind you. You just keep walking, straight ahead.