The birds all seemed to chirp at once, and Emma searched the trees, but the birds remained hidden in the branches.
“It’s like they’re celebrating their survival.” Lilli kept pace with Jade as her crutch echoed off the pavement.
Emma stared at the trees lying across the street before her. Sunlight glinted off the reflective letters of a sign, its arrow pointing to the Market.
“We go that way a block then left onto Market Street.” Emma scanned for movement of any kind then motioned for Lilli and Jade to follow. Jade leaned on her travel leg, as she called her crutch. She moved faster, but they were losing daylight. They’d never make it to her house before dark.
Emma stuck her clenched fists in her pockets. Alone, she could have run between the logjams and gotten farther, maybe even home. She kicked a stone. The sky dimmed, and shadows became more pronounced with each passing minute.
“We’ll get there, Emm.” Lilli gave her a thin smile but didn’t wink. “There’s safety in numbers. We only make three, but it’s better than one.”
Could Lilli read her mind? She hadn’t said anything about Jade going too slow, had she?
“It’ll be dark soon. We should look for shelter.” Jade hung on Lilli who swayed a bit.
Emma folded her arms. “I guess.”
Her need to get home was a constant ache in her chest, but Lilli was right, and she would never leave Jade. Emma needed these women, and Jade wouldn’t make it another block without a break. She trudged around three parked cars, a tree resting across them, and stopped.
“A Bomber Burger Shack.” She wanted to leap up and down. Almost-sixteen-year-olds didn’t jump up and down, though. She shook her head to clear it. “I worked here last summer.”
The oldies were always blaring at Bomber Burger, and Emma murmured the words to her mom’s favorite, “What does your love mean to me, baby? Ev-er-y-thing.” Would Mom ever forgive her? She took a step.
Lilli grabbed Emma’s hood. “Wait. Is it safe? The wind blew most of the roof off.”
Emma glanced over her shoulder, and Lilli pointed to the roof. Jade leaned on her travel leg and rubbed her scar.
“Right. But we need to stop for the night, and I know this place. Let me check it out.”
She jogged across the parking lot, peered inside, then opened the door. Lilli and Jade followed.
“Sybil? Gregory?” Emma waited for a response. It was cold, dark, and the odor of rancid grease filled her nostrils, so different from the tantalizing aroma of fries and burgers, the 80s music, and the strings of Christmas lights that lit Bomber Burger and gave it the party atmosphere that kept it filled with customers.
“Sybil and Gregory aren’t here.” Lilli spun a slow circle taking in every corner of the Bomber Burger’s ceiling. “Looks sturdy enough inside.”
Emma glanced at the ceiling. Gregory always said, “They don’t build ’em like this anymore,” and he’d pound on the wood wall. The ceiling wouldn’t fall. Lilli was being paranoid. Emma paused. The door to the kitchen stood wide open.
Someone had been here. That door was never left open unless food was coming out. She peered inside at the deep-fat fryers and griddles.
“It’s pretty damp, but at least we can lock the door.” Lilli twisted the deadbolt. She scanned the ceiling again.
“Better than on the street.” Jade coughed. “Stinks, though.” Jade sank onto a booth and massaged her thigh.
“Not sure if breathing through my mouth is a better option.” Lilli held her hand over her mouth. She plopped next to Jade.
“Ugh. I can taste it.” Emma tried breathing through her dirty sleeve and sneezed. Her eyes adjusted to the dim interior. A window let in enough light to make out the grills and refrigerators in the kitchen. She snuck a peak at Lilli and Jade checking out the booths and tables in the dining area.
Emma opened a freezer and slammed it shut, stepping back, her hand covering her mouth. Thawed fish sticks. The stench clung to her nostrils, and she rubbed her nose. “No food that I can find.” She walked into the dining area pretty sure the fish odor came with her.
“I could eat a horse.” Jade hobbled to a booth near the counter, slipped off her backpack, and sank with a grunt.
“I can take your order, if all you want is a PB&J.” Lilli sank beside Jade and gave her a sandwich. “You should have two in your bag, Emma.”
“PB&J? But I want a double bacon cheeseburger.” Emma plunked down opposite Lilli and Jade and reached into her bag. She lifted a smashed sandwich and grinned at Jade.
“It’s good to see you smile for once,” Jade said and dangled a baggie from her fingers, jelly smeared on the plastic. “Poor sandwich.”
Lilli bounced up and down on the bench. “These booths are comfy. I can sleep here.”
“The door is locked. We should be safe,” Jade said.
Emma swiped the greasy bench with a finger, rubbed the grime on her jeans. This was the booth where mom sat on Emma’s first day. “Best table for watching you in action.”
She’d stumbled through her orders somehow, like an ant under a magnifying glass, the heat getting hotter by the minute. Mom ordered fries and a cheeseburger dripping with grease, and she’d grin at her every time Emma walked by.
Emma’s mouth watered as she chewed the dry peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The familiar spiral of booths was Sybil’s idea, so that every booth had a view out the front window. Emma wasn’t sure that was such a good idea now that looters wandered the streets.
She took another bite of the smashed sandwich. At least the jam made it moist. Her eyes drooped with each bite.
She wiped her mouth with her fingers and stuffed the other half in the baggie. She was too tired to eat. She fluffed her backpack on the bench and lay back. It would have to do. She wedged into the backrest, the soft murmurs of Lilli and Jade lulling her to sleep.
A loud crack shook the building, and Emma shot to her feet as pieces of ceiling plaster and water crashed down around her.
****
Emma opened her eyes. She’d slept? She scanned the shelves, rows and rows of empty shelves. She sat on the cold tile floor and shook her head. It ached, and she raised a hand. That’s right. Her mad dash to the storeroom had come with a price.
Jade sat on a stack of boxes. She bit her lip as Lilli changed her bandage. Emma rubbed the sleep from her eyes and pushed to a stand, her back stiff from the cold damp floor.
“That was a narrow escape, right?” Lilli wound the bandage around Jade’s leg and fastened the end. “Hold still, hon. One more roll ought to do it.”
“Good thing you knew about this room.” Jade swung her gaze around the storeroom. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and sniffed. “Still stinks, though.”
“Why didn’t I listen to Lilli? She said the roof looked bad.” Emma shrugged.
“Water under the bridge, kid.” Lilli grabbed more gauze wrap.
“Can I help?” She peered over Lilli’s shoulder.
Dark red seeped from Jade’s wound, and Emma’s head started spinning. She clutched a shelf as Lilli unrolled the gauze strip and finished wrapping Jade’s leg.
Emma clamped a hand over her mouth and rushed out the door into the alley behind the Bomber Burger. The fresh air cleared her head, and she sank onto the smoker’s bench Gregory had built thirty years ago. She reached for her water and chugged half of it.
Jade limped out of the storeroom, her forehead creased and stared at Emma.
“What?” Emma rose from the bench brushing off her pants.
Jade handed her a piece of yellow paper. “Found it on the floor.”
Emma stared at the scrap of paper, torn at the edges. “What’s that?” She reached out her hand, and the curls in the handwriting gave her jolt—Mom’s writing. She took the paper. Her hands trembled as she read:
Emma, sorry we fought. Come home. I love you, Mom.
Emma stared at Jade and Lilli. She scrunched the paper in her hand. “You read it?”
“How were we supposed to know it was for you?” Lilli took a step forward, chewing on a Burger Bomber pen.
“You fought with your mom?” Jade reached for Emma, but Emma jerked away.
She reread the short note.
“She’s out here looking for you,” Lilli said.
“We have to get you home, now.” Jade adjusted her crutch.
Emma wanted to burst out of her skin, to race down Market Street. Did Mom go home after putting out notes? She balled the note in her fist. She didn’t want independence. She wanted her momma.
“If we’re going to get her home today, we need to get a move on.” Lilli nodded to Jade.
“I can be fast.” Jade swung her crutch at Lilli.
The birds sang in less frantic chirps this morning.
“We’ll follow you.” Lilli adjusted Jade’s arm on her shoulder and chewed on her pen.
That’s right. She was leading this trek. She scanned the crossroads of Market and 14th. Emma cleared her throat. “We stay on Market until we hit 16th.”
“You should run ahead. Go find your mom. We’ll catch up.” Jade pulled a purple bandana from her jeans pocket and wiped her brow.
“No.” Emma jammed her fists on her hips. “We stick together. Safety in numbers, remember?” Emma stepped over a branch and pushed through a tangle of branches, chewing on the tip of her ponytail. She wanted to run, but how much faster would she go?
Lilli and Jade hobbled behind her. Two blocks, and every inch was covered in scraps of plastic, downed trees, plastic bottles, glass. Why did it have to be so difficult?
Lilli stopped. “Do you smell something?”
“Smells like death.” Jade had gone from drawl to monotone again, hunching her shoulders.
Lilli punched her shoulder, and Jade glanced at Emma. “Oh, sorry.”
“Too late, hon. Be mindful.” Lilli grabbed Jade’s hand and stroked it.
Emma’s gut twisted, and she pressed her hands over it. Who knew fear could hurt? That it could be a real thing in your belly that twisted and churned? Emma turned onto Market Street and stumbled over a branch. She stopped. Maples and cedars had fallen to form a pile of trees that clogged the road. When would it end? The stench got stronger as they walked.
Emma tried to walk around the pile, but the pile blocked the entire road. She gazed to the top. It reached the second story of a brick building. “What a mess. Looks like we have to climb over this one, or walk around the block, which means triple more climbing.”
“Let’s stay on 16th.” Lilli adjusted Jade’s arm over her shoulder. “We can’t go one extra step.”
Emma nodded. She approached the pile and found one tree leaning like a ramp halfway to the top.
“Maybe I can see my house from up there.”
Emma grabbed a branch. The tree seemed like a balance beam but at a steep angle. She climbed onto the trunk, pitch gumming her fingers. She placed one foot in front of the other, grabbing branches for support as she climbed. She stopped halfway. This was nothing like gymnastics. Her chest heaved with her efforts.
She glanced down at Lilli and Jade. Jade grinned at her and waved. Emma waved back, but her foot slipped. She screamed, falling to her hands and knees. How would Jade get up this pile? She stepped off the log and onto a branch the thickness of her thigh. It held, and she used the branches as hand holds as she climbed the pile.
“You’re doing great,” Lilli called.
Emma didn’t answer. She wanted to shout, “No I’m not,” but bit her lip instead. The mass of trees settled as she climbed, and each jerk stopped her cold, sweat breaking out on her upper lip.
“I’m coming down.” She clung to a branch and glanced at Lilli and Jade.
“No. You got this.” Lilli shifted from foot to foot.
“Easy for you to say,” Emma muttered. She pushed through a wall of branches, searching for footholds with her toes.
She glanced up for her next branch but saw only blue sky. Had she reached the top? Her throat was raw, and her arms hung like rubber bands. She rubbed blood back into them. A scuffle and growls came from the street, and she scanned the other side of the pile.
Several dogs growled and paced around a dumpster, the hair on their backs standing in ridges. They were fighting over garbage. She turned and began to climb down, her legs numb. She wanted to jump, but the ground was too far. She wanted to run, but she was fifteen feet off the ground.
“What is it?” Jade asked.
Emma couldn’t speak. She counted five of them circling the dumpster tipped on its side. The contents joined the debris in the street, but the rotten food was worth fighting for, apparently.
“Emma,” Lilli said. “Update, girl.”
Emma’s throat tightened. Was that Mr. Peterson’s German shepherd? It started barking and growling at a Rottweiler, protecting a package of hamburger buns. That could not be Mr. Peterson’s dog. Emma froze, her muscles tight. The shepherd’s growl rumbled deep in its chest. Lilli appeared at Emma’s side, and Jade rested her hand on Emma’s shoulder.
“Feral dogs?” Jade kept her voice low. Her hands shook.
“That explains a lot.” Lilli glanced from Emma to Jade.
“Feral?” Emma leaned on Lilli’s shoulder, seeking the warmth of another human being. She couldn’t let the dogs out of her sight. If she did, they might get her. She swallowed hard and blinked.
“It means wild.” Jade backed away from Emma’s perch. “Happens when they get hungry.”
Lilli reached for Jade. “It’s okay, hon. They can’t climb trees.”
A Lab and two mutts circled a bag of carrots. Emma watched the German shepherd tumble one of the mutts and pin it on its back. It yelped. The growls and barks sent ice through her veins. This might be worse than humans with guns.
Lilli followed Jade to the far side of the logjam. Emma couldn’t move a muscle. These dogs used to be someone’s pets, licking faces and wagging tails, but now they wanted to kill each other. Why were they behaving like this? Nothing made sense anymore.
“We should have stayed at the shop.” Jade’s voice faltered.
“We couldn’t stay there. Listen. We just need to go around the block.” Lilli gave Emma a look.
Emma cleared her throat. “Yeah, we’ll climb back the way we came. They won’t even see us.”
A screen door screeched, and Emma grabbed a branch for balance. A man in a plaid flannel bathrobe pushed through the screen, and it slammed shut behind him. He looked like Megan’s dad, tall and slender with curly hair that stuck out from his head like wires. She had the urge to stand and ask if he had a running faucet, but something kept her silent. She stared at him as he walked into the street. What was he up to?
Lilli froze, her gaze on the man, but Jade cowered, her shaking hand rustling the branch she held. Emma reached for Jade, but the harsh voice of the man stopped her.
“Damn dogs. Shut your yaps.” He swung a rifle to his shoulder.
She gasped. The shock wave blasted through her ears, the ringing a familiar pain.
The Rottweiler dropped and didn’t move. The German shepherd and the other dogs scattered, and the man fired again and again. The third shot hit one of the mutts. It yipped and fell on its side. Emma ducked.
When she took her fingers from her ears and opened her eyes, the dogs had disappeared but for the two lying in the street.
The man yawned, dropped the muzzle of his rifle, and disappeared into the house. Emma stared at the porch. Lilli held Jade who clung to her.
“Oh my goddess, oh my goddess.” Jade whispered. Her head spun left and right, like an ostrich searching for the dogs. “Where did they go? Did you see where they went?”
Emma brushed her hair out of her mouth. She had to quit that, or wash her hair, or both. She shook her head as though that might make the stars stop shooting across her eyelids every time she closed them.
Lilli whispered, “Emma? We gotta get off this pile before—you know,” she nodded toward Jade.
“Right.”
When had upstanding, rifle-toting citizens start shooting wild dogs in the street? She smoothed her hair and tightened her ponytail.
“We have to climb down the way we came and go around the block.” She wiped her nose on her sleeve and began the climb down.
“No, no, no. You don’t know where the dogs are.” Jade’s high whisper hissed in the silence.
“The dogs are gone, hon,” Lilli said.
A rustling came from the bottom of the pile. Emma glanced down. It was the German shepherd sniffling at the path they’d climbed. “He’s back.”
Lilli grabbed Jade and dragged her to the other side of the pile. The German shepherd nosed the log they had used to climb to the top, panting as though it were laughing. It pushed through branches, climbing up the tree.