SEVEN DAYS by James Ryke

Author:James Ryke [Ryke, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: S&J Publishing
Published: 2021-03-10T22:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-ONE

Day 7

Everyone in the Congregation was wide awake despite the late hour. The large meeting room was lit up by a few well-placed 16-watt fluorescent bulbs that gave off the equivalent light of several 60-watt incandescent bulbs. Blankets were taped over all the windows to make sure no light escaped. This would have normally annoyed Rick because it seemed to be a pointless waste of battery power, but his body was so tired, he did not have the energy or the will to complain about it. Anthony, Rick, and Jacob were covered in a thick layer of sweat, dirt, and ashes. Their arm and necklines were pitted with sweat stains that had long since dried into salt lines.

As soon as they entered the church, people rushed them, asking so many questions at once that none of them could be answered. Rick stuck out his hands, demanding that only one person speak at a time. He then answered a few of the questions in his deep, growling voice, but deferred most of them for tomorrow. They were given water and towels to wash their faces, which Jacob gratefully accepted.

Rosemary rushed forward, pulling her son into a tight embrace. “We were so worried about you. Are you Ok? What happened? Why didn’t you call? I could’ve come and picked you up, but you never called.”

Jacob broke the embrace with his mother and held her at arm’s length, his face suddenly angry. “What do you mean I should have called? Do you have any idea what’s going on? Do you have any idea what just happened? Do you know what I just saw?”

“What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“They killed…everyone—the whole city,” Jacob’s voice lost strength mid-sentence. “They were blown up—and those that survived the explosions.... It…it…was…”

Rosemary grabbed her son and pulled him into a tight embrace. “Your imagination has gotten the better of you. Why don’t you sit down in the kitchen and I’ll bake something for you.”

Jacob’s jaw went taut, tears now forming at the end of his eyes. “What do you mean, my imagination? Mom, the oven doesn’t work—”

“It doesn’t’ work?” said Rosemary. “When did that happen?”

Jacob narrowed his eyes as he studied his mother. “They lied. They lied to everyone in the city. They said the Federal Government had…had come to save us. They drew us out into the open…and then…”

There were a few gasps as Jacob spoke.

Rosemary stepped closer. “Come into the kitchen, son. You’ll feel better with some food and sleep.”

Jacob took a step back. “Why are you acting as if nothing has happened?”

“There’s nothing else we can do tonight,” Isaac’s cool, calm voice interjected, “and all of us will benefit from a good night’s sleep. There will be plenty of time to discuss what happened, but now is not the time. Rosemary, take him to the kitchen and heat up some food for him in the old toaster oven—that at least does work.”

“But what about…” asked someone from the Congregation.

“Not now,” Isaac replied, “Not today. Jacob can talk about it tomorrow…if he wants to.

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