Primitive. Part 4

"I don't either." I drew Tracy close to me. "I need to talk to you."

Tracy nodded. I think she knew this conversation was about us, about maintaining our family unit against all odds. "Are you okay with handling one of the guns?"

Tracy nodded. For the first time I saw a hint of strength in her features. "You better believe it."

"Okay." I felt better now. Despite Tracy's previous misgivings of having loaded firearms in the house, the few times we went to a target range together she proved to be very adept at them and was practically a crack shot. "I have a good feeling about Martin and Lori. What about you?"

"I feel good about them, too," Tracy said.

"You okay with having one of them take a shift with one of the guns?"

"As long as they know how to use it."

"Good. Me, too." I paused for a moment. For the first time since the day began, I suddenly felt exhausted. "James seems okay, but he's definitely not in the right frame of mind to watch our backs. And Heather seems okay, but I don't have that good a read on her yet. Maybe it's because she's a kid. She still has that teenage rebellion thing going."

"I think you're right," Tracy said. "Let's get a chance to know her a little better."

"Despite whoever stands guard, one of us always has one of these." I tapped the holster enclosed Sig near my waist. "Whoever's on guard can have the rifle."

"Okay."

After an awkward pause, we hugged. It was the first time we'd been able to genuinely hold each other since the awful events of this morning. Tracy trembled in my embrace. "I just wish this could all be over," she whispered against my neck.

"Me too, hon."

We remained that way for a moment, taking solace in each other, then looked down at our sleeping Emily. When we rejoined the group back in the hallway, James had gotten control of himself and was sniffing back tears. Martin was looking at me.

"You ever shot a rifle before?" I asked Martin.

"I served in the Marines thirty years ago," Martin answered, proving my age estimation of him correct. "It'll come back to me."

I turned to Lori. "What about you?"

"I've never shot a rifle, but I've shot a 9 millimeter before on a firing range."

"Would you feel comfortable taking one of the shifts?"

Heather perked up, raised her hand. "I can do it."

"Hold on a minute," I said to Heather, then directed my attention back to Lori. "No problem if you aren't comfortable. Just be honest."

"Show me what to do and I can do it." The determination in Lori's voice and her body language, her facial expression, told me she was a go-getter. This was a woman who wouldn't take s.h.i.t from anybody, either, and I had a feeling she was a fast learner. I motioned her to come over to me and she got up.

"You okay to take the first shift?" I asked Lori. "Say from now until midnight?"

"Sure."

"It'll mean staying upstairs in the living room. Keep the lights off. If you hear anything outside, be ready to use this." I held up the Ruger. "And definitely use it if somebody tries breaking in. I don't care if they're normal like us." If I wasn't so d.a.m.ned tired I'd take the first shift, but today's events had really worn me down. Besides, all I needed was a few hours sleep and I'd be fine.

"What about us?" James asked.

"We need to get some sleep," I said. It felt good to take charge, to take control of my house and ensure my family's safety. I felt I could trust Lori and Martin in maintaining this sense of control, too. "Tracy and I will bunk down with our daughter in her room. One of you can take the master bedroom and there's a sofa in the office." I didn't want to offer the use of Eric's room so soon after his death. In fact, the door to his room was closed. Tracy probably. "I can get extra pillows and blankets for whoever sleeps on the floor." I pointed out each room, and then turned to Tracy. "You want the midnight to two shift?"

"Yeah." Tracy nodded.

I glanced at Martin. "How does two to four sound to you?"

"Fine with me."

I turned to James and Heather. "We all need some sleep. Let's get some rest and in the morning hopefully we'll be rested enough to come up with some kind of battle plan for getting out of here."

"I don't mind staying up to stand watch," Heather volunteered again.

"I appreciate it," I told her. "But we have it covered tonight. Maybe tomorrow."

I don't know if Heather intended to protest the matter further, but for me the case was closed. I gestured to Lori. "Let's go upstairs."

When we reached the upper level of the house I led Lori over to my makeshift office. I showed her where I'd stashed the brick of .22 ammunition for the rifle. I also showed her where I'd stashed several loaded magazines. Each magazine held thirty rounds. "Tracy will show Martin where these are when he takes his turn. The location for the ammunition stays between the four of us. Okay?"

Lori nodded. "Gotcha."

Despite the drawn curtains, there was enough moonlight to provide illumination to see by. I sat down on the living room sofa and showed Lori the basic mechanisms of the rifle; how to open the breech, how to insert and remove the magazine, how to chamber a round, how to fire it, where the safety was. "This is a semi-automatic rifle," I concluded. "Keep that in mind when you fire this thing. It's not a high caliber weapon so you'll only feel a slight kick to your shoulder as you fire it, and it won't be that loud."

"I saw that handgun you got tucked under your shirt," Lori said. "What else you got?"

"One other handgun," I said. "Tracy and I will be in possession of them."

Lori nodded, her gaze not leaving my face. "If I had a little one as adorable as your Emily I'd be armed to the teeth at all times, too."

I smiled at her. "You'll be okay here. Wish I could say enjoy a movie or something, but I don't think that'll be safe."

"I'll be fine. I've got too much on my mind to keep me bored."

"Okay." I handed Lori the rifle. She checked it, made sure the safety was on, and then rested it gently against the sofa.

"Tracy and I will be in Emily's room," I said. "You need anything, don't hesitate to roust us up."

"You can count on it."

I left Lori in my living room and headed back downstairs. The hallway was empty and as I pa.s.sed Tracy's office on my right, I saw Martin lying on the sofa and James lying on the floor. I went to Emily's room, noting the door to our bedroom was closed-maybe Heather was finally succ.u.mbing to the emotions of the loss of her family. The door to Emily's room had been left open and I entered and sat down on the edge of the bed. I removed the holster from around my waist as Tracy sat up. I pa.s.sed the .45 to her and she placed it on the floor on her side of the bed. I slipped the Sig out of the holster and placed it on the floor between the nightstand and the bed. Well within easy reach.

As I settled down on the bed I tried to sleep. My body screamed for it, but my mind was a whirlwind. Emily was deep in slumber while Tracy sniffed and shifted position on the far end. The nightlights we'd placed in the hallway were still on, telling me the power was operational in our section of town. Who knew how long we'd still have juice? For that matter, what could happen tomorrow?

At some point I fell asleep.

I was awakened shortly after midnight when Lori came down to get Tracy. She was a dark silhouette and her voice, while whispery, bore the strains of fatigue.

"How is everything?" I asked as Tracy got up.

"So far, so good," Lori answered.

Lori had brought the rifle downstairs with her and she handed it to Tracy, like a runner pa.s.sing the baton. Tracy bent down quickly and retrieved the .45 on the floor at her side of the bed and stuffed it in the front pocket of her sweat pants. Then, with rifle in hand, she left the room. As Tracy left I asked her, "You okay, honey?"

Tracy paused at the doorway. "I'll be fine. I couldn't sleep anyway. I got maybe an hour."

"Okay. You feel like you're going to fall asleep, come down and get me."

"I'll be okay." She turned to Lori. "You're welcome to crash in here, Lori."

I got up off the bed. "Yeah. Go ahead, crash here. I can sleep on the floor."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Lori said. She slid into the side of the bed Tracy had occupied and turned on her right side so her back was facing me. Emily slept on, undisturbed by the whole thing.

I looked at Tracy. "Get me if you need me."

"I will," Tracy said.

She went upstairs. This time when I lay back down, sleep claimed me quickly.

I was jostled awake in a flurry. I snapped upright, blinking, taking everything in. "What? What's wrong?"

Emily was sitting up in bed crying and now I could hear it. How I didn't hear it before, I have no idea. While normally I sleep deep, Emily's crying was clearly audible. Out of the corner of my eye I could see somebody moving in Tracy's office-either James or Martin, I couldn't tell which. Lori was kneeling beside me. It was she who'd woken me.

"They're outside," Lori said.

I instinctively pulled Emily close to me. "It's okay, honey. Daddy has you."

"I'm scared!" Emily cried. Her face felt hot against my chest.

"Shhh...just quiet down, they don't know we're in here."

"I'm scared!" This time it was a frightened shriek. The shrillness in her voice took me aback.

"We're okay, honey, they can't get us in here."

" I'm scaaarrreedd! "

Emily's voice rose to a screaming crescendo and I could tell it was only going to get worse. Tracy called down from the top of the stairs. "Is everything okay down there?"

From outside I heard something worse. The voices of the primitives changed. While they still spoke that gibberish there was a quality in the tone of their voices that suggested they'd heard Emily's last scream. I heard their shuffling footsteps pause outside-it sounded like they were standing directly over Emily's bedroom, which would put them at the west side of the house. Several inquisitive hoots came from outside.

"Daddy I'm scared!" Emily wailed.

"Mmmaaaaahhhhh!" Eager hands slapped against the west window that looked out from my office, which was directly over Emily's bedroom.

"Oh d.a.m.n!" Lori muttered.

"Daddddyyyyyy!" Emily wailed again. She was clinging to me so hard, I could feel her fear pouring through her little body.

"Emily, be quiet!" I said and instinctively clamped my right hand over her mouth.

"Dadddyyyy!" This last wail was m.u.f.fled but still audible, though not as loud as before. The damage was already done, though. Footsteps began pounding toward the office window upstairs and the primitives began beating against it, their m.u.f.fled voices resounding outside. They knew we were in here now.

"Will you shut her the f.u.c.k up!" Heather had exited the master bedroom and was standing out in the hall. "Those things are outside!"

I snapped at her. I don't remember what it was. Something like, "Get out of my face" or "f.u.c.k off."

Emily squirmed violently in my grip. She continued shrieking behind my hand, which covered her mouth. If I hadn't had my hand over her mouth to m.u.f.fle her voice she'd be screaming at the top of her lungs. "Emily, calm down, it's okay," I said, and I was dimly aware of somebody heading up the stairs to the living room and for a minute everything became a blur as Emily grew more agitated.

Lori and I were telling Emily to calm down, that things were okay. The primitives were outside running around, grunting and growling and pounding against the windows, the walls. I thought I could hear them pounding at the sliding gla.s.s door. Before I knew it Tracy was at my side, trying to take care of the situation. "Emily, Mommy's here, it's okay-"

Tracy basically swooped in. I removed my hand from Emily's mouth and she got the barest hint of a scream out before Tracy turned to Lori. "In the medicine cabinet is a bottle of Valium. If I can cut a quarter off it I can give that to her to calm her down."

Lori was up and across the hall to the bathroom instantly. I could hear somebody upstairs chamber a round in the rifle. Tracy's eyes met mine briefly. "Martin's upstairs," she said.

I nodded, the adrenaline running strong in my system.

"Is there a knife in here?" Lori called out.

"s.h.i.t," Tracy muttered. " Upstairs! "

Lori ran upstairs. Out in the hall I heard Heather mutter, "f.u.c.k, they're all over the G.o.dd.a.m.n place. They're gonna f.u.c.king get in!"

Emily squirmed and fought against us. She was absolutely terror-stricken. Despite the fact that her screams were being m.u.f.fled by Tracy's hand, they were still clearly audible. The pounding against the windows continued as the primitives grew bolder. I heard a tinkling of breaking gla.s.s amid excited grunts, heard Martin say, "s.h.i.t!", heard Heather outside Emily's room, "G.o.ddammit, why can't you shut her the f.u.c.k up?" and then there was another sudden flurry of footsteps heading back down the stairs as Lori swept into the room. "Here!" she said, thrusting a hand out to me. She palmed a portion of the Valium into my hand as Tracy began speaking to Emily again. "We have some medicine we want you to take honey," she began just as there was another tinkling of breaking gla.s.s from upstairs and I heard the first blasts of gunfire.

"Here!" I thrust the Valium at Tracy who took it as I grabbed the Sig Sauer from the floor. I was up the stairs in a flash, brushing past James who was standing in the hallway, looking confused about what to do.

When I got upstairs the first thing I saw was Martin standing in the center of the living room aiming the rifle toward my corner makeshift office, the stock resting firmly against his right shoulder. Most of the activity from the primitives was at the window in that corner of the house, but I could hear more activity at the front door as well as the rear window, on the back deck of the house. I saw a flurry of movement at the window as the light was suddenly cut off-something was forcing its way through. Martin and I reacted in unison, aiming our weapons at the window and squeezing off three rounds each. Whatever it was that was trying to climb into my house was stopped cold. It hung there, half inside. What sounded like two primitives tried squeezing past the dead one stuck in the window. They grunted in frustration at their seeming inability to get past it. Meanwhile, the primitives at the other window were beginning to climb inside, and Martin and I opened fire at those targets. There was a squeal of pain as one primitive dropped to the ground outside. One was killed outright and his body was pulled out of the window. I was tracking both our weak spots now, my senses keenly attuned to every point of entry, and I could barely hear what was going on downstairs, only aware of Tracy's voice yelling something in anger and suddenly another primitive was through the window and in the office so fast that if Martin or I had hesitated it would have been on us as swift as a lion. Luckily our adrenaline was so spiked up that we blasted the s.h.i.t out of it. It collapsed on the floor, just past my makeshift office. Another primitive was making its way through the window and Martin took it down with another staccato of gunfire while I plugged another one that had managed to pull the dead primitive from the living room window and was trying to climb into the house.

For a moment after that initial onslaught, there was no sound except for the wailing of the wounded primitive outside the side window. There was a loud ringing in my ears from the Sig Sauer and that made it difficult to tell if there were more primitives heading toward our refuge in the hills. There were certainly no footsteps on the deck, and the primitive that had been at the front door could now be heard at the side of the house, just out of range. I heard it hoot in fear, and then it turned and began running away from the house, heading into the neighborhood.

I stepped toward the sliding gla.s.s door. "Keep the windows covered," I told Martin as I sneaked a quick peek through the blinds outside.

The back deck appeared deserted. While my ears still rang, I didn't detect any sounds from the city below us, or any footsteps. The primitives weren't smart or stealthy. I moved into the kitchen and crouched beneath the window that overlooked the east side of the house. No sounds from there, either.

From the living room I heard another burst of gunfire followed by Martin's voice. "Die you f.u.c.king sonofab.i.t.c.h!"

I paused in the kitchen. The whining of the wounded primitive had ceased.

I stepped out of the kitchen and met Martin, who was standing over the body of the dead primitive. I couldn't tell if it was male or female. For the first time I was aware that I was down to only three rounds and that I'd stupidly left the spare magazines for the handgun downstairs. "You okay on ammo?"

Martin nodded. "Yeah."

"Be right back," I said. I darted downstairs.