“Oh my God. Jacob, this is really happening, isn’t it?” she croaked.
He put his hand on the back of her neck, not speaking. She looked at him. “What are we going to do, Jacob?”
“We just need to hold on.”
She backed away from the gable vent and sat silently. A muffled cry from below caught her attention and Laura turned to look at the access hole. “I’ll check on her; don’t be too long,” she whispered as she crawled away.
He turned back to follow her to the master suite. Moving across the attic, he paused and looked at the plywood floor filled with plastic bins and boxes. He pushed them aside and made his way to the pull-down attic access ladder. He found a long board and slid it through the handle, locking it into the up position. Jacob turned and moved back to the makeshift hole and, grabbing the joists, lowered himself back onto the closet shelving.
He found Laura scooping a small paper cup of water from the bathtub. She used it to wet her hands before wiping them down the sides of Katy’s cheeks. She looked up at Jacob and said, “She’s burning up. I'm not sure what it is, but we’re going to need real food; all that’s left are some scraps, nothing solid.”
Jacob bit his lip, knowing she was right. He could see Katy needed a doctor; he nodded his head. He stood in front of her, and although he was listening, he was thinking about their supplies. They’d used the last cans of soup already, having eaten it cold, and the fruit was gone the day before. As their luck would have it, everything had happened on the day before grocery day when the cupboards were already bare. He could check the kitchen again, look for something they may have missed in the pantry, but it wasn’t likely there would be anything there. Jacob walked through the bathroom and again stood by the bedroom window. He pulled back the drapes and peered across the street.
Smitty’s house was a shattered mess from the mob attack a few hours ago, but maybe there was something left—a scrap of food in the kitchen or something. The house was directly across the street; if he moved quickly, he could cross without being seen. As if agreeing with someone, he nodded his head and moved to his dresser. He pulled out a black, hooded sweatshirt and a pair of dark jeans. He searched a desk drawer and removed a small paddle holster for his handgun. After pulling on his jeans and tucking the holster into his pants over his hip, he dropped in the Ruger pistol until it clicked into place.
“Where are you going?” Laura asked.
Jacob quickly dressed in the rest of the new attire and dumped one of the backpacks they’d previously packed full of their clothing. “I’m going over to Smitty’s to see if there’s anything left.”
“What? No, it isn’t safe; their house was attacked, Jacob,” Laura protested.
“Maybe that’s what will make it safe. They might not come back to it.”
“What if they do?”
Jacob pulled the backpack over his shoulders. He removed and checked the slide of his handgun, dropped the magazine to make sure it was full, and then placed a spare in a small pocket at the front of the holster. He grabbed a black ball cap from atop the armoire, and then looked back at Laura. “You said it yourself. She needs real food.” Jacob picked up the drill, walked to the bedroom door, and stood there staring at the screws.
“How do you know they’ll have anything?” Laura asked.
“I don’t, Laura, but I have to try.”
Shaking his head slightly, Jacob set the drill down next to the door and walked through the bathroom and back to the closet to look up at the hole in the ceiling. “Listen, if I come up empty, I’ll try another place, but that’s it. Then I’ll come back, okay? I won’t stay out long; you can watch me from the window.”
He snugged the straps on his backpack then turned to hug her before he grabbed the shelves and pulled himself back into the attic.
Jacob asked Laura to follow him as he worked his way back to the ladder hatch. He showed her how he removed the board securing it, and then lowered the ladder into the hallway below. Looking down, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. He kissed Laura on the cheek and told her to pull up and secure the ladder behind him. She nodded reluctantly.
When he poked his head out of the hatch, he could make out the stairway leading to the first floor. Jacob slowly descended the ladder and stood in the hallway outside of his bedroom door. He folded the attic ladder and let it ride back to the up position. Jacob drew his pistol and slowly approached the stairs.
The rooms below were dark, the heavy drapes still in place. He crept down the stairs and entered the living room where he pulled back the curtains slightly and surveyed the front yard. Empty—nothing in sight. Jacob approached the front door; then, having second thoughts, he walked to the kitchen and used a side door to enter the attached garage. Going through the garage, he could exit out onto the back deck and sneak around to the side yard while staying hidden from view.
Jacob opened the deadbolt on the utility
