Chaos

over to the darkened lump that I think is Robert Cupping my hand over the end of my flashlight, I turn it on. I barely make out Robert’s face lying there with the bag pulled up to his chin. I set the light between my legs as I kneel over him and gently cup my hand over his mouth. He instantly comes awake and gives his head a twist trying to shake free.

“Ssshhh,” I whisper in the dark. “It’s dad. I think there might be something outside,” I whisper as he comes awake and I remove my hand from his mouth. “Quietly wake the others and watch your light. Cup your hand over the end.”

I hear him slide out of his bag and move over to the other mounds on the floor silhouetted by the faint light escaping from his flashlight. I move over and wake Mom. A light stabs into the darkened room.

“Lights out!” I whisper sharply and the light disappears, darkening the room once again. I hear the rustling movement of sleeping bags being moved as the girls slide out of their cozy beds.

“Against the wall like we talked about,” I say softly to everyone amidst the sound of the dog barking outside.

The barking has taken on the continuous aspect of when a dog has spotted something and is doing the territorial thing; sort of that alpha dog thing. Over the frantic barking comes a shriek. Like a threatening scream. I want to head over to a window or the front door peephole to see what is going on but feel this is one of those times to become a black hole, only without any of the gravitational affect.

The frantic nature of the barking is now replaced by silence outside. One additional bark sounds out followed by more silence. Now two barks and silence. A high pitched shriek once again interrupts the silence but with a different tone. If I can put a tone on it, it seems like a surprised and pained sound. A solid, loud thumps hammers the side of the house, hard enough to be felt, followed a split second later by the sharp, short yelp that a dog emits when in pain. I hear Bri emit a soft moan of sympathy. She has always loved animals and is, well, was, wanting to become a veterinarian. The yelps are now coming in a continuous series. Five, six, seven, and then total silence once again descends upon us in the darkened room.

I look around at everyone through the dim light emitting between my fingers from the flashlight. Robert has his gun out and is on his knees pointing at the back hallway. Michelle is facing the windows set in the outside wall on the other side of the room. Mom is behind me with her pistol pointed at the floor between us and the back door. Bri and Nicole sit against the wall surrounded by us; their knees drawn up to their chest with one arm around each other. They look like bookends. It is amazing how they seem to do this without thinking. Their habits are so similar.  I have a theory that many habits and motions may be DNA based. I guess it could be mimicry from them being around each other so much but I don’t think so.

We sit in silence for what seems like an hour but in all actuality is only a matter of about fifteen minutes when I hear the rattle of cans coming from the front of the house. The noise goes on and on, like someone playing Yahtzee with a tin shaker and metal dice. One set of the cans on the front porch has been knocked off, and, somewhat amusingly, may be tangled up with whatever is out there. That would be nice if the cans have in fact become a more permanent part of it. That way, we will perhaps know where one is at least; sort of like a cow with a bell around its neck. I swear I hear a muffled growl and the cans stop banging around.

“Everyone keep absolutely quiet no matter what happens outside. If something gets in, then different story, but until then, quiet,” I say as silence once more dominates the world around us.

BANG! The sound at the front door startles me and does a kick start to my heart as adrenaline starts flowing through my system. Another bang as something large slams into the front screen door. A shriek sounds amidst the sound of glass breaking and falling to the ground.

“Flashlights on but stand them with the ends on the floor,” I whisper glancing to the darkened shapes around me. “If anything gets in the front door and there are too many, we are out the side door. Robert you lead to the door and I’ll cover the rear. Once outside, we’ll switch and I’ll take the lead. Everyone else as we talked about.”

We are illuminated in momentary strobes as lights come on but the dimness returns. Quick enough that night vision is not drastically affected. More sounds of glass breaking come from the screen door followed by a grinding, metallic twisting sound. The aluminum of the screen door screams in protest as though it is being bent in ways it was not designed to.

“Don’t concentrate on the sound in front but focus on listening for sounds in your coverage area,” I whisper not taking my eyes from the kitchen entrance.

I can’t see the kitchen from this angle so the first visual sign I will have of anything will be when it enters the room some twenty feet away. This is where I keep my gun aimed. I’m on my knees holding my gun with one hand wrapped around the shaft of the flashlight on the ground next to me, ready to bring it up if necessary. More of the metallic, twisting sound echoes inside and then a loud pop. I am guessing either the screen door latch or hinge has popped off. I hear Bri sniffle and Nicole whisper to her, “It’s going to be alright Bri. I’m here.”

A loud, thundering boom comes from the front door. I don’t hear the wood give way so I think the door is still holding. I should have put something across the door, I think as another booming thud sounds. I wanted to leave two routes open to leave from in case we needed but I never thought anything would be slamming into the doors with a semi. I feel my heart beat faster as it keeps my adrenaline flow up. My gun is still pointed at the kitchen entrance. My hand is steady but my mind is shaking as I think about my kids being here. I also feel myself bracing for another impact but only the deadened sound of silence prevails. The afterimage of the thuds still ring in my mind. The silence worries me almost as much as or more than the banging.

Another shriek reverberates through the night. This one seems to come from a little distance away. If I have to hazard a guess, I would say from a neighbor’s house or a little further. Another scream erupts from the same area.  It sounds more human and of someone experiencing total fear. Oh my god, I think, there’s someone still alive. Another scream shatters the night but is overshadowed by an ear-piercing shriek from just outside. Tin cans rattle once again. The last sound of the night is another shriek but far off into the night. I hear no more screams or shouts.

“Everyone wait here,” I say and edge to the kitchen entrance with my cupped light and gun. At the corner, I peek around low and let a little beam of light escape from between my fingers toward the front door to see it is still shut tight in the frame. I creep silently toward it, steeling myself in case another sudden thud comes. Damn I have to go to the bathroom, I think edging up to the door to look through the peephole. If something bangs against the door right now, I may just let loose.

Looking out of the peephole, I see only the clear, starlit night. It is amazing just how much light reaches the earth and lights it up from stars millions of light years away. Many of them probably no longer in existence but their light still comes to rest on us. Mind boggling sometimes. The end of the gravel driveway and small rock wall across from me are lit up by these far away stars. I see a corner of the screen leaning outward to the right. Nothing is moving. I pull the door slightly, testing its integrity. There is only a little give. I thank whoever it was in the night that screamed, drawing that thing away from us, and send my prayers their way asking the spirits to help them as they did us.

I walk back to the group. “Is everything okay, Dad?” Nicole asks from the shadows.

“Yeah, babe, I think so. For now at least.”

I head into the bathroom to relieve my bladder brought on by my over-worked glandular system making a mental note to flush come morning. We drag our sleeping bags to where we were sitting, draw them over our legs for warmth, turn out our lights, and wait.

An hour passes before everyone settles back into their bags to try to get some sleep while I keep watch. Judging from the rustling of the bags, not much rest is actually getting done. I am exhausted from the day and night and want to drift off. Luckily, my mind is still keyed up and going a mile a minute, so I don’t quite head off into dreamland. The only indication that morning has arrived is the sound of birds greeting the dawn outside.

I walk to the back door peeling the blanket back a bit to ensure that the day has indeed come to us. The light of the coming dawn shows through the crack between the blanket and the door’s window. “Up and at ‘em,” I call out but am met only with groans and the motion of teens rolling over in their bags. Well, apparently they did drift off at some point.

“Come on everyone, get up, we have a busy day,” I call out heading outside to start the generator.

I am greeted by the morning sun ; just rising over the mountains to the east and peeking its way through the trees. The world spins around as it has in the past and will continue to do so regardless of what happens to the life inhabiting this rock flying through space. The day is beginning to warm up. The screen door hangs outward