Jacob grabbed his wife, pulled her to the floor and out of sight, and then put a hand over her mouth to muffle her cries. He crawled across the floor with his wife in tow and grabbed his daughter. He brought them both into the en suite bathroom and sat them on the floor, holding them tight and urging them to be quiet.
“It’s them they are here aren’t they?” Laura sobbed.
“I don’t know,” Jacob whispered back.
Jacob waited for the noise to stop, the screaming and the pleas for help to fade. He ripped down the shower curtain and, walking low, moved back into the bedroom. He peeked cautiously through the window and saw that the street was clear. The destroyed cars remained, but there was nothing else left. The mob was gone and, with the exception of the dead man still poking through the window, there were no bodies—even the two men he killed were gone. Tattered clothing littered the street and lawns; blood streaks and drag marks showed where victims had been pulled away. The things, whatever they were, seemed to have consumed everything in their path. They recovered their dead and took away the living.
Why leave the man in the car and take the rest? Jacob asked himself.
Searching, he looked at the neighboring houses. Two of them were destroyed, their windows broken, and the doors shattered. He then looked at the house across from him. In the second-story window, he could see his neighbor, Smitty, looking back. He waved to Jacob. Jacob returned his gaze and shook his head sadly before stretching the shower curtain across the window to further block out the light.
Chapter One
A chilling, uncomfortable silence woke him. His wife and daughter lay sleeping beside him, their soft breathing the only noise to reach his ears. Not wanting to move, he opened his eyes and stared at a solitary fly walking across the ceiling. His clothing was soaked with sweat, but he didn’t dare remove his heavy shirt and jeans. The room grew hot during the night with the electricity out and the air conditioning along with it. The summer heat and humidity made the space nearly unbearable. Quietly, he worked his way around his daughter, Katy, and pulled his legs to the side of the bed before standing in the blacked-out bedroom.
He was normally a patient man, taking his time to ensure things were done right. He wasn’t one to jump to conclusions or make thoughtless decisions—probably why he was good at his job working as a setup engineer. He traveled the country from plant to plant troubleshooting assembly line operations, fixing bottlenecks, and finding solutions to problems. Jacob wasn’t hasty in action; he liked to analyze problems and attack them with a well-conceived plan.
Admonishing himself, Jacob took a deep breath and warned himself to be cautious—to work out the problem methodically, as he’d always been able to in the past. He reached to the floor at the base of the bed and felt for the jug of water. Finding it, he took a long gulp that quenched his thirst. A cold shower would be better, but that was impossible for now. Why is this happening? For the first time in his life, he didn't have the answers. He wouldn't be able to sketch a solution or logically define the problem. Jacob followed all the rules, did what he was told, and now he felt doomed by it. He feared he had failed his family.
The silence outside was disturbing; he listened intently, feeling his heart beating in his chest and fighting back the steady panic building in his stomach. For nearly a week, the weather siren had wailed day and night without relief. They’d grown accustomed to the whine of the up and down squall blocking out the sounds of the rest of the world. Even after the electrical grid failed, the loud siren blared nonstop. Running off batteries, he presumed, or maybe a generator. None of that mattered now; the siren was off and the night quiet once again. Standing in the center of his bedroom and facing the window, Jacob strained to listen.
He moved closer to the curtains covering the window and finally received the feedback he craved to remind him they were not alone. He heard the barking of a dog in the far distance, a car alarm, a faint scream, and the pop, pop, pop of a firearm. The once quiet neighborhood had slowly become a war zone. Jacob walked to the window and put his fingers to the edge of the heavy drapes.
“Is it over?” He heard Laura whisper from the bed.
Jacob turned and squinted to see her in the dark room. “I don’t know; it’s quiet—the siren stopped,” he answered.
He looked at her as she sat silently on the bed, and he knew she was thinking of her parents north of the city. Jacob thought of the chaos outside and what must be happening far away. What if they had gotten out of the driveway and beyond the neighborhood? The televised backups on the interstates and city streets had made for murderous scenes on the network news channels. Glued to the TV during the first days, Jacob watched the helicopter footage of men being dragged from their cars, police shooting into charging mobs on the magnificent mile, and panicked soldiers running away from their posts.
Jacob moved across the room and sat beside her on the bed. He put his arm around her waist while she rested her head on his shoulder. “Katy isn’t speaking,” she said.
“I know; I am worried about her too.”
Jacob looked back at Katy sleeping peacefully beside them.
“What’s happening out there?”
“I think they have it all wrong. The
