She spun the wheel, pulling her car to the left. And then she floored it, knowing that as soon as others saw her breaking the law, they too would follow. She tried not to think of the crashing sound of broken glass or the scream that came from the SUV as she zoomed off. She was not a rubbernecker and had no interest in seeing bad things that she could do nothing about.
Her car flew up the turn lane, and she couldn't help but feel as if she were doing something wrong. She was going 40 miles-an-hour, the cars rushing by on her right and left, creating a whoosh sound with each one she passed. Ahead she saw the cause of the snarl—police cars. Lights spinning. People stumbling around. Blood. She saw other cars pulling into the turn lane behind her. She turned on her hazard lights. Maybe the cops ahead would think that she was having an emergency and ignore her law-breaking. She hoped this was so. As she neared the wreck, she realized that she needn't have worried. The cops were pre-occupied with fighting various injured forms. As she flew by the accident, her car squeezing through a gap between police cars and her tires crunching over broken glass, she watched one of the officers lose a chunk out of his neck. Then the scene was behind her. In her rearview window, she saw trucks driving over curbs, bouncing over the rough grass on the side of the road.
She understood now. The entire world was a road. As long as your car could physically keep moving, you'd have a chance. Of course, the real danger came from the possibility that everyone would realize this. That's when accidents would happen.
"Are you there, Mercy?"
"I'll be home soon," she said.
****
That had only been the beginning of her life as a survivor, and the first thing she had learned was that the rules don't apply. Rules could get you killed. But it was also the hardest lesson to keep to. Her rules, her insistence on being completely reliant on herself, had gotten her killed. It had gotten Duane killed back at the Target as well. They would die on the same day. She supposed that was something.
Tears came to her eyes, and the tall soldier put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her.
Duane… now there was no one left to… she couldn't say the words.
"I have a favor to ask of you," she said.
****
Mercy led the soldiers up the stairs of the townhome, holding the lantern in front of her. She didn't feel bad, just a little warm, maybe feverish. She reached the top landing of the stairs and paused outside of it. She knocked on the door in the way that they had agreed. She heard the click of the latch on the other side, and her daughter's sweet face greeted her, her eyes going big at the presence of the soldiers on the landing.
The barrel of her daughter's handgun came up, wavering on hands too small and weak to hold the gun. But Mercy put her hand over the barrel, pushing it back to the floor. "It's ok, Hope. They're here to help."
She smiled down at her precious little girl, and tears came to her eyes.
"What is it, Mommy? Why are you crying?" a small voice asked from the interior of the room. The voice belonged to D.J., small and bundled up in the warmest jacket she had been able to scavenge. Her children were three and five-years-old, and they were the best thing she had ever done in the world.
She wasn't going to be able to see them grow old. She wasn't going to be able to see them have children of their own. She wasn't even going to be able to know if they lived past tonight. So, she did what she could; she scooped up Hope and carried her over to D.J., setting her down. She hugged them both tight, her hands feeling their hair, her nose smelling their smells.
"Where's Daddy?" Hope asked, her voice trembling.
"He's on his way. He had to lead the dead away." It was not something that she had ever imagined a mother would have to say to her children. Maybe she was the only person in the world that had ever uttered that combination of words. She felt bad for lying to them, but they didn't need to know. Not now. They would come to realize the truth when they were old enough for it to not hurt so bad. She had made sure the soldiers agreed to that.
"I need you two to go with these soldiers now. I have to wait for Daddy, but when he gets back, I'll be right behind you."
"Why can't we wait?" D.J. asked.
"We just can't," she snapped. D.J. flinched at her tone, and she ran a hand down the side of his face to soften the sting. "There's no time. We need to move. These soldiers have weapons, and they're going to leave the city, but they need to move now and get back to their people. They're going to protect you. They're better at killing them than me or Daddy are."
"I don't want to go," Hope whined.
"Me either," D.J. echoed.
"Hush now. This world isn't made for what you want. You have to do what you have to do. I've told you that before, and right now, this is what you have to do, so I don't want to hear any more about it."
They nodded their understanding, tears gleaming in their eyes. She hugged them tight and said, "I love you." They told her the same, and she held the words in her heart, letting them heat her from the inside.
She bundled them up in their warmest clothes and packed their emergency bags with extra socks
