The Disaster Days by Rebecca Behrens

Author:Rebecca Behrens
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks
Published: 2019-07-29T16:00:00+00:00

11

“Wake up, Zoe. Oscar, get up.” I don’t know why I was speaking in a half whisper—we were alone in the house, after all, and there was no reason to be quiet, aside from not wanting to startle the kids. But maybe this was a time when startling was appropriate. We needed to move fast—if that was even possible with Oscar’s injury.

“Guys! We have to go.” My voice was still hushed but firm.

Zoe sat up, rubbing her eyes. I was amazed she’d fallen asleep so deeply, so fast. “Go where? To be with our mom?” Her voice rose with hope. I couldn’t see her mouth but I could hear the smile. Oh, I wish.

Oscar, next to her, stirred and let out an anguished moan when he shifted his leg. I winced. Each time I was reminded of how much pain he must be in, something squeezed deep inside my chest, in sympathy.

What were we going to do about Oscar? Where were we going to go, outside, in the middle of the night? The best place would be my house, but we couldn’t possibly travel there in the dark. There wasn’t even any ambient light from the city to help us see; the moon and stars were shrouded by clouds. I shivered. We would be cold, damp, and exposed in the backyard. Were we just going to sit in a circle on the grass until morning? We’d freeze.

Something rattled at the other end of the living room. “The scritch-scratch!” Zoe shrieked, even though she’d been the one to tell the made-up story in the first place.

“That’s not the scritch-scratch. It’s the wind, blowing through the porch.” The porch. The yard, away from the house and anything that could explode, would be safest. But because it would be too dangerous to sit out there in the dark, and we wouldn’t be able to keep Oscar comfortable, the porch was second best. There, we’d at least have plenty of fresh air. And a quick path to safety if a fire did start. Unless the whole house exploded, in which case… Stop it, I ordered my brain.

“We’re transferring the blanket fort to the porch,” I said, grabbing random pillows. I whipped the tent-roof blanket from the couch, uncovering Zoe and Oscar still inside.

“Why? In the middle of the night?” Zoe grasped toward the blanket as I pulled it away.

“I’m staying right here,” Oscar groaned. Which was fitting, considering he was immobilized.

I took a deep breath that still felt shallow. “Something’s wrong with the stove. I think it’s leaking gas. We’ll be safer on the porch. It’s only for tonight,” I said. Tomorrow night, you’ll be home, I promised myself. One way or another. But my own reassurance sounded empty.

Zoe nodded solemnly and started to gather the smaller cushions. I was proud of her for taking me seriously and for not panicking. Maybe I should’ve trusted her earlier with the news.

She and I moved everything—including Jupiter in his box—to the farthest corner of the screened porch, draping two blankets onto the old wicker settee like a tent.

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