“After... All of this is done,” Tammy said, turning towards the ladder.
Claire watched Tammy leave. She figured that Tammy was one of the few people who would actually want to see events unfold.
Not like the rest of us, she figured as she got back to the table and looked at the nervous faces around her.
They could have used a strong personality. Like Melissa, who even in her injured state seemed to have the ability to ease fears by the sheer force of her presence. However, she had been moved to the roof already. Shelley and Christine had managed to get her settled up there.
They had not come back down, either.
Maybe they prefer the open air. The air inside was starting to smell. Stale, but with a tinge of body odor. Claire had learned to recognize the smell of fear.
Then she glanced around at her companions. Rachel didn’t look right. Claire felt like the woman was ready to snap. Q tried to hide it but looked nervous. Maria moved around like a caged animal, and Nancy couldn’t hide her fear either. The old woman was wringing her hands continuously.
Everybody was on edge.
It made Claire reconsider why Shelley and Christine had not returned. Maybe they prefer the company up there.
She watched as tensions seemed to mount.
What we need is a distraction.
“Guys...”
Seven sets of eyes swung towards her as she spoke.
“I was thinking that we should do something, to take our minds off ...” She let her words trail off. A burst of gunfire could be heard far in the distance, as if to emphasize Claire’s point.
Rosa was the first to respond. She seemed to be the only person in the library that wasn’t ready to run. “What are you thinking?”
Claire considered for a moment before saying, “We all have stories to tell. The path that led us to this place and this moment.” She walked to the front of the group. “Maybe it’s time for some of us to share our stories.”
That idea went over like a lead balloon. A couple of people scoffed.
“And what good will that do?” Sarah asked angrily.
Rosa placed a hand on the woman’s arm to calm her down.
“I think I understand,” Rosa said. “We have no idea how this is all going to end. So, if anybody wants to share their experience, now would be the time to do it.” She looked around at the others. “It would provide us with a distraction as well.”
“Exactly,” Claire said. “But nobody needs to get upset. I can tell you my story, even though some of you have heard it before.”
Just then somebody spoke up from the far side of the table.
“My father said that we were lucky.”
Chapter 50
Steve’s story
“We’re the lucky ones. You’ll see,” Steve’s dad said as they stood in front of their new place.
They were lucky... To some degree. Being one of the first families to be brought into the safe zone afforded them to pick their place. Steve couldn’t be exactly sure, but he thought that his Dad’s position as a city council member was a big reason for their preferential treatment.
His dad was proud as a peacock on the day they moved out of their house. They had a military escort and took well more than the one-bag limit which was imposed for everybody else in the following days.
Steve wasn’t impressed; he was angry. And resentful. Why should they pack their bags and get out, while all his friends and their families stayed behind?
“They will get the opportunity to be evacuated soon, Steve. They just have to wait for the official program to get kicked off,” his dad told him as they stood in front of the metal hut. He placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “This is one of the best single-family residential domiciles in the whole safe zone. Let’s go check it out!”
The place did not look like a domicile to Steve. Or anything resembling a house, for that matter. More like two metal trailers stacked on one another.
Steve’s mood did not improve as he stepped into the hut. Uncomfortable-looking furniture was sparsely placed on the main floor.
At least it’s got a TV. Steve eyed the rather cheap looking flatscreen. Then he remembered that he had been forced to leave his game system at home and continued to sulk.
He wasn’t the only one. His mom practically tore the place apart.
“There’s no place to put our shoes and coats,” she said as they entered a short hallway.
And things went downhill from there. “Oh my God, what tacky furniture... This is a shit hole, Frank,” she remarked as they rounded the wall and looked into the tiny living room.
She looked at the small couch and chair disdainfully before turning towards the kitchen. The huff she emitted told Steve that the kitchen was also below his mom’s standards.
“What the hell am I supposed to do with a kitchen this size?” She turned around and spread her arms in a questioning gesture. Steve’s father shrugged, but she had started rooting through the cabinets before he could answer.
“One frying pan and two pots?” She slammed the cabinet shut. “And just look at the size of this fridge!”
There was a small room with the letters “WC” on it in the far corner. Steve had no idea what WC stood for but found out as soon as his mom opened the door.
“A toilet and no sink. Nice.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. Then she reached into the small room. “But what about toilet paper? This isn’t going to do,” she exclaimed, holding up the pitiful-looking single roll.
“All right, all right. Hold it.”
Steve’s dad had heard enough. His mom stood with her hands on her hips. Steve knew this stance. It meant a bigger argument was about to start.
“Listen, Angie.”
The man took a step closer to his wife. Neither her expression
