He crouched low and hid behind the unkempt, overgrown evergreen bushes. Jacob was thankful that he’d failed to trim them for several years. He dropped to his hands and knees and followed the perimeter of his house until he entered the side yard. A tall wooden fence divided his yard from that of his neighbors, the Johnsons. He hadn’t seen or heard from them in days, but their home was still secure. They had either left or were locked up tight, the same as he was. He considered going to their door and asking for help, but more people would add complications; not to mention, they might turn him away—or worse, attract attention.
“No, stick to the plan,” he whispered to himself as he moved to the front corner of his house. He could see Smitty’s driveway. His beaten and battered Lexus still sat parked in front of the garage. Smitty was always an arrogant prick and not someone Jacob would call a friend. He knew the garage would be empty; Smitty parked the Lexus on the street so people would see it. He considered it a status symbol. Now it was a dented wreck with broken windows. Bits of the car’s glass lay covering the driveway, reflecting the sunlight.
Crouched at the front corner of his own porch, Jacob eased his head out of the bushes and searched in both directions for movement. It appeared clear. He took one more deep breath and took off at a dead run, flying through his front yard, across the street, up the driveway, and past the Lexus to the garage door that was pushed inward and broken. Jacob knew all the houses on the block had a similar layout with a door leading to the kitchen from the garage, and Smitty’s would be no exception. He quickly ducked down and crawled through the broken hole in the overhead garage door. Catching his breath, he crept into the darkness and pressed his back against the wall.
Looking back into the street, things were still as quiet as he’d left them. He looked up at the second story of his own house, just barely detecting movement of the drapes in his master bedroom. Even though he couldn’t see her, he knew Laura was watching. He flashed a quick thumbs up, then turned and ducked deeper into the garage. Jacob stepped over a dumped cabinet of oil and paint cans, then around scattered toolboxes. He rummaged through tools, searching for weapons or anything useful, taking note of things he may need later before finally making it to the small set of steps that led to the open kitchen door.
He paused at the landing to listen, hearing only the rattle of window blinds blowing in the breeze as they scraped and scratched against the shards of broken glass left hanging in their frames. The house smelled dusty and earthy from the opened walls. Jacob took a silent step and peered into the kitchen. Looking straight through the long kitchen into the house, he could see into the dining room where the eight-seat mahogany furniture set was shattered and crushed into pieces. To the left and right, cupboards were knocked off the walls. The refrigerator was knocked from its place and lying across the floor. Slowly, Jacob moved forward and hid behind an L-shaped counter on the right that divided the kitchen from a family room with a small bar. He took light steps deeper into the kitchen and looked through the bar window into the family room. Focusing beyond upended leather furniture, he could see the home’s heavy oak front door had been ripped from its hinges and shredded like balsa wood.
Jacob looked behind him in the direction of a stairwell and saw the body. The man’s naked legs twisted back to creep out from behind the railing. One foot was turned out, still wearing a black slipper. Unable to stop himself, he crept forward on the balls of his feet. He paused just in front of the stairs and looked down at Smitty’s broken form. His head was pulled as if dislocated from his shoulders, only hanging on by stretched and discolored skin. His left shoulder was green and grotesque, yet Smitty’s right hand still clutched a bloodied aluminum bat. Looking closer, Jacob could see bits of hair and fat sticking to the dented end.
“You fought hard,” Jacob said.
Suddenly repulsed, Jacob raced away and dry-heaved into a corner of the room. He wiped his watery eyes before staggering back toward the kitchen. Losing his balance on debris, he nearly fell but put a hand on the kitchen counter and took deep breaths to try to calm himself. He relaxed and dropped into a crouched position. Looking across the room, he spotted a large, red camper cooler. Jacob crawled through the space on all fours and popped open the lid.
There wasn’t much inside, three bottles of sports drink and half a cooler full of water from melted ice, but he was happy to have it. Jacob quickly dropped the full bottles into his bag then looked around the kitchen for an empty jug. He dumped over a blue recycling bin against the wall, then rummaged through it and found an old water jug. Jacob opened it and filled the jug with the water from the cooler. If he had to, he could boil the water for drinking if he managed to build a fire, or at the very least, he could use it for bathing. He searched
