Sanctuary by Pauline Creeden Page B

pulled free, and she slammed it against the broken doorjamb. Though the door handle area was damaged, the deadbolt itself was not. Relief washed over her, as she remembered she didn’t lock it. Thankful, she turned the deadbolt just as her father came rushing down the stairs. “What’s wrong?”
    She clutched his arm. “There’s someone out there. One of the bite victims, I think. I heard wailing.”
    He rushed to the door and looked out the window to the side. “Was it your mom? Could it have been?”
    “I don’t know.” The thought of it being her mother terrified her and made her feel guilty for locking her out at the same time. She stood on her tiptoes to peek out the window over her father’s shoulder.
    In the yard, a man in a navy jumpsuit stumbled about aimlessly, like the drunks she had seen on College Avenue on Saturday nights at Virginia Tech. With his hands in his hair, he tripped and fell to the sidewalk. He didn’t even attempt to catch himself; his face already had huge abrasions and pieces of rock stuck into his lacerations.
    “What are you guys looking at?” Mickey tried to push his way between Dad and Jennie to get to the window.
    Both adults turned around and pushed the little one back.
    “Nothing important, Mickey. How about we go into the kitchen and get some food?” Jennie said.
    “Great! I’m so hungry, and we left before Mrs. Crawford could make me cookies!”
    “I’m hungry, too. Let’s go see what we’ve got in the pantry.”
    Mickey continued to prattle away, as they headed to the kitchen. The moment Jennie's feet hit the tile floor of the kitchen, she stopped and stared. Every cabinet door stood open, and the few shelves she could see were bare. “Dad!” she called out again, feeling like it was the only word in her vocabulary.
    “What is it now?” he asked, rushing into the kitchen right behind her.
    She opened the pantry door and found the month’s supply of food they’d stocked up since the aliens came, gone. “What are we going to do?” She felt like crying again.
    “I checked the guns and the valuables but didn’t even think to check the kitchen.” He ran his hands through his hair. “They took everything. There’s not a crumb left.”
    “Did they take anything else?”
    “Not that I can tell.”
    “Who is they?” Mickey asked, wide-eyed and wanting to participate in the conversation.
    Jennie kneeled. “I don’t know who they are, Mickey. But they are bad guys.”
    Her father rested a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t know if they are all that bad. We’ve been gone for two days. I’m sure someone thought we weren’t coming back. People will do what needs to be done in order to survive. Things that they wouldn’t ordinarily do.”
    Jennie shook her head, her throat tight, her chest hollow.
    “Can we make some cookies now?” Mickey asked.
    “I’ll go to the store.” Her father stood up straight, and for the first time, Jennie noticed the shotgun barrel of the black Charles Daly pointed to the ceiling.
    “Dad, you can’t. That man is probably still out there. We don’t know whether you’ll run into anything or anyone else on the way. Not to mention, the store is probably closed. I didn’t see one grocery store open on the way here.” Her words came out quickly, one after another in her panic.
    “Remember how I said that sometimes people do what they have to do in a survival situation that they wouldn’t normally do otherwise?”
    Jennie nodded, her eyes growing wide as she considered it.
    “You guys stay in here and keep the deadbolt on. Don’t open the door for anyone. I’m going to the store.” He set the shotgun on his shoulder and strode toward the window to look out.
    “Is he still there?” Her voice cracked as she choked back tears.
    “No, the coast is clear.”
    “Be safe!” Mickey called in a sing-song way just like Mom always did when their father left for work each day.
    Tears welled in her father’s eyes, as he kissed