Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“Can I go check out the candy aisle?” asks Sophie.
“Sure. Just don’t leave the store or go out back without letting me know, okay? And don’t eat a heap and make yourself sick,” I say. “Once I sort out some vegetables, I’m going to head back to canned goods, then take this load out to the car. But definitely don’t go somewhere else without letting me know. We still need to be security conscious.”
I am not a helicopter-mom-slash-guardian type of person. I just sound a hell of a lot like one sometimes.
She nods and wanders off into the shadows of the store. Her footsteps and the bouncing of the ball are the only sounds.
It doesn’t take long to fill the cart. On my way to the front doors, I call out, “I’m heading to the car, Soph.”
Sunlight blinds me as I step outside. Clear blue skies all the way. The vehicle is pulled up right out front for convenience sake.
And standing beside it are five strangers in damp clothing.
Starting with a middle-aged Black woman with her hair in locs, then a lanky young white man in his twenties, a woman around my age with long red hair and botanical tattoos, a forty-or-so-year-old man with brown skin, and finally the most important person of all: an Asian-American girl around the same age as Sophie, with short hair and friendship bracelets on her wrists.
Their weapons are lying on the ground in front of them, sending a definite message. Without being asked, they’ve disarmed themselves. Small streams of water are running from their clothing.
They don’t mean me any harm. I know this because the first thing their designated leader, the beautiful Black woman, says is, “We don’t mean you any harm.”
My walkie-talkie and weapon remain on my belt, just in case. Because I am wildly outnumbered here. Sophie needs to stay safely inside the store for a while. None of them seem sick, but I keep a careful distance. “You came in across the creek?”
“That’s right,” she answers. “We wanted to talk to you alone. See how receptive you were to new people. Your man carries a lot of weapons and seems quite handy with them.”
“He can be intimidating.”
“Then there’s the tank parked outside your house.”
“Would you believe me if I said that was more in the way of a garden ornament?” I ask. “How did you find us?”
“We were passing and heard the shooting at the bridge. Saw you with your daughter and knew we had to meet you,” she says. “My name is Reema. And this is Charlie, Naomi, Avan, and Hazel.”
“Astrid,” I say with a cautious smile.
Avan has his arm around Hazel. There’s no expression on her face. Just a sort of weariness it hurts to see in one so young. There’s no way she’s going back out on the road if I can help it. None.
“We’re looking for a home,” says Reema. “Somewhere safe for the child. One with others near her age, preferably. But we needed to know if you and the girl were here of your own volition. That this is a safe place.”
Dean would not like this. Me interviewing new people alone. But these people aren’t giving me any bad vibes. “Where did you come from?”
“We escaped Bakersfield on Wednesday,” says the redheaded woman, Naomi.
“Escaped?”
Reema nods. “There used to be eight of us. Soldiers were rounding up anyone they could find. Taking them to the military base outside the city.”
“That must have seemed like a natural flow-on from martial law.” I frown. “They weren’t worried about the virus?”
“They had respirators,” says Reema.
“What happened?”
“We heard the soldiers talking about how anyone who stepped out of line was being beaten.” Reema stares hard at the horizon. “So, we picked our moment and…three didn’t make it. But we got out of there. We got the child away from them.”
“They were willing to hurt you rather than let you go?”
Reema nods again. “It’s hard to trust people now. We know that better than anyone. All we want is a place where we can contribute in the way we’re best suited for a fair share of resources and equal say in how things are done. As for what we have to offer…Avan is a paramedic.”
And with those words, our population doubles.
“You’re not my real mother,” says Sophie with tears in her eyes before running into the house.
“Oof,” I mumble.
Dean sighs. “They’re not having a sleepover tonight. It’s too soon. Let me talk to her. She’s overtired. It’s been a big day for everyone.”
“Go for it.”
No idea how people manage being single parents. Talk about superheroes. I am already slightly scared of the teenage years ahead of us.
Everyone else is gathered around the firepit in our backyard for the welcome party. We ate potatoes and corn baked in the fire, along with an assortment of canned foods. Soda and beer were cooled care of the creek. Things seem almost normal. Just a group of people hanging out. Naomi plays guitar while Leon and Avan trade first responder stories. Ones not too gruesome for the girls to hear.