Part 8: May 22 - South Bend

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The paint store was several blocks away. Tim was thankful that they were traveling away from the crazed teens. Emily, Tim, and the boy entered through the back of the store, and the boy softly called to the children inside. The children hesitantly peeked out from around corners and from behind the counters where they had been cowering in fear. Tim began to grasp what it had been like for these children. Alone for 36 hours was bad enough, but with that band of bloodthirsty teens and what to them appeared to be zombies from some horror movie, these children were living their worst nightmares.

A sick feeling flooded over Tim. How many more towns were out there full of children in this situation? He decided at that moment that whatever else happened, he must find a way to bring back as many of these lost children as he could. But first, they had to get these children out of here and back to The Colony.

Emily gathered the children together and was ready to step out the door. Tim opened the door and carefully looked both ways up and down the alley, then signaled the all clear. Emily stepped out and led the group toward the outskirts of town.

Tim ran forward and stopped Emily. “Wait here.” He ran back into the hardware store through the rear door and, a few minutes later, stepped back out with two rifles, two handguns, and ammunition for the firearms.

Emily wrinkled her brow. “What’s that for?”

Tim answered as he loaded a rifle. “I don’t know about you, but if that group comes after me, I don’t want to end up like that old man back there.”

“Do you know how to use those?” the girl asked.

Tim nodded. “Yeah. My father, grandfather, and I used to go hunting and target shooting. I never really liked the noise or the smell, but my grandpa liked it, so I pretended I did too. In between the shooting we spent a lot of time talking. Then we’d go have a big breakfast and ice cream after.” Tim smiled as he thought back on the treasured memory. “Funny thing, I was a crack shot. My grandpa used to brag to his friends that I could shoot a gnat off a flea’s butt. Don’t worry, I know how to use these. I just hope if it comes to it, I can do what has to be done. I didn’t like killing a deer, and I definitely don’t want to kill a person,” he whispered to Emily.

Emily nodded to the boy. “Can you show me how to use one of those? I know I can shoot one of those web-heads,” she stated. Her face registered pure hate and rage.

Tim nodded and thought about what she must have seen for her to feel so sure that she could kill a person. He was certain she had never watched something that she had shot die.

Sam followed Hank as he quickly led the children through the back streets, ducking from one sheltered corner to another, heading in a general direction that would take them near the house where she and Tim had left the horses.

Sam stopped everyone in front of the house and put her finger to her lips, signaling to the children to be quiet. Then, in a low voice, she said, “I need you all to stand still and be very quiet; we do not want to frighten the horses with a loud, noisy bunch of kids. If Jack and Kipper get spooked, they could start neighing, and then those teens might hear us.” Sam watched, hoping the children understood what she was telling them. “When we get to the motel, I’ll let you take turns riding, alright?” she told the children.

As they approached the house, they could hear someone talking. Sam froze and motioned for the children to stay back. Then she carefully walked forward alone.

Sam skirted a large shrub on the corner of the house. As she peered around it, she startled six children who were staring at the horses. Sam quickly dropped to one knee and put a finger to her lips to signal the children to stay quiet. She whispered, “I won’t hurt you, but we need everyone to be very quiet.” Sam indicated the other children standing off to the side. The two groups of children stared at each other, and the six new children relaxed a bit.

Sam stayed on her knee. “We all need to get away from here. Are there any more children hiding around here?” she asked. The children fidgeted, still torn between running and the need to have an adult they could rely on for safety.

An older girl shook her head. “We’re all alone.”

The desperation in her small voice gripped Sam’s heart. All alone, echoed in her head.

“We need to keep the horses very quiet,” Sam explained. “If we all stay quiet, then the horses will also stay quiet. I don’t want those teenagers back there to find us.” She explained to the children, “We’re all going to a safe place; you can come with us.” She all but begged—the woman was determined not to leave one single child behind.

The children all nodded, and Sam stood up and led the horses out through the gate and onto the front yard of the house. She nodded to Hank, indicating for him to lead the way. They quietly hurried from house to house, weaving through side streets, continuing to travel away from town.