Welcome to Mayhem - Updated Often

Chapter 4

The survivors littered the bunker's cots, chairs, and even floor. There were so many less than before the marauders had come. Most showed no outward signs of trauma, though some sported a few minor injuries and at least one appeared to have a more significant wound to his leg. With his head down and the dim lighting, Emersyn couldn't be sure, but she thought it was the Mayor. Taking the time to truly look around, Emersyn realized that the survivors were women and children almost exclusively. She looked at each occupant even more carefully the third time. Without any further doubt, Emersyn knew two things: one, Garrett and the Mayor were the only two men above the age of 13, and two, this meant her Pawpaw Frank was obviously not here.

"Where are the rest of the men?" Garrett supplied the words to the question in her head.

There was a cacophony of sobbing and sniffling. Mrs. Kingston, the sixth grade teacher for most of the children since the early 1970's, moved forward gingerly. Up until the events of this morning, the older lady had always moved with more dexterity then people half her age; Emersyn knew the recent events had finally stolen the last of Mrs. Kingston's vigor. When the teacher spoke, Emersyn realized it had robbed her of her hope, too.

"They protected our trek here and then went back to protect anyone else still in town," she said. "They should have been back."

Garrett looked shaken, "That wasn't the plan. They were supposed to stay here. Those of us who stayed behind knew we were most likely not going to survive, but they were not part of that bargain."

Mrs. Kingston patted his arm gently, "You are not accountable for everyone's safety or actions. You most certainly cannot prevent other overprotective men from running into the fray when their friends and neighbors are in danger. Emma Wright was captured trying to get out of town. They weren't going to leave her there."

Emma Wright was the local Veterinarian. She was happily married to her husband, Ben. They had just gotten married about six months before the outbreak. Both had been fortunate in that they had survived the plague. Ben would never leave his wife in the hands of the reprobates who had invaded their town. That was the gunfire Garrett and Emersyn heard on their trek to Mischief.

"Mrs. Kingston, not all the women are here either," Emersyn noted.

For the first time, Mrs. Kingston smiled, "While the men rush in where angels dare not tread, the women are providing cover fire."

Emersyn smothered a smile; Mrs. Kingston had inferred the men were fools. Notwithstanding the righteousness of their cause, taking on the superior force had been foolish and not sticking to their plan had endangered so many more than was necessary. There was no way to know how many would make it back a second time. They could only wait, hoping against hope at a time when hope was in short supply. Still, she applauded all of them for stepping up to rescue one of their own.

It was all too much for her; sheer exhaustion caused to Emersyn crumpled to the floor with her back against the wall. Garrett slowly made his way over and collapsed next to her. Fatigue and pain etched ostensibly with a permanence on his face. The bleeding had stopped earlier, but Emersyn was still concerned about infection.

"Let me check your wounds," she told him as she made a move to lift the edge of his shirt.

Grasping her hands, he gently murmured, "Just relax with me for a moment. There is so many things to be done, but I can't will myself to do a single one of them just yet."

There they both sat in silence, drifting in and out of an uneasy sleep until the small hours of the morning. Quiet noises began disturbing the gentle hush of dawn's domain. Both Garrett and Emersyn jolted fully awake and on-guard. Slowly men and women crept into the small space. The rescue party had returned and so many townsfolk, who had already lost so much, would find out if there was more loss to bear.

Drinking in their stances and faces, Emersyn knew the newest losses were going to be significant. Emma was ushered in; her clothes torn, but still intact. Her husband, Ben, was not with her. Emersyn searched for the gentle face of her Pawpaw Frank's without success, but she still couldn't let go of the small thread of faith to which she was so desperately clinging. Then she felt Garrett's hand in hers. He knew what was barreling towards her void of any mercy and he was lending his strength to her.

Without preamble, Martin McDonald, the Postmaster, said, "We are all that has survived. No one else is left."

The room exploded with wailing and tears. Emersyn was silent as the grave. She felt a numbness overtake her and with it a coldness engulfed her core. She couldn't cry or mourn; she couldn't form a single thought.

What was she to do next? Her whole world, her entire family was gone. There was nothing and no one left. The mist that had enveloped her mind vanished suddenly and she was struck with clarity of thought: she would kill the man who had killed her brother. Kane would not continue to live in this world if Jackson couldn't.