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The door creaked shut behind me as I fought the urge to run full speed to my scooter. It was early morning, but not so early that the sun should be hiding this well. Forcing a slow and steady pace, I flung my backpack off my shoulder and secured each arm strap to its own handlebar. After checking both mirrors and flicking on the lights — and maybe sneaking a peek behind me for the Boogeyman — I tapped the start code on the console. The engine buzzed to life, lurching for a moment before I could steady myself.
//You ready?// Howie’s voice flitted between my ears.
//Yeah, be there in a sec.// I released the brake and rolled down the driveway.
Howie lived less than two blocks away in the next housing development over. Normally I’d just jump the wooden fence and walk across the soccer field, meeting him halfway. Then we would set off for whatever no good we could find. Now, however, I had to take my scooter on the road. Mom hated it and even now, with permission, I couldn’t help but feel like I was breaking some rule by pulling onto Addison.
So lost in guilty thoughts, I didn’t see the roadblock until my dim headlight shined right on a large cop’s brown pant leg. I squeezed the handle brake and drug my feet across the blacktop. My back tire squealed, catching and jerking the scooter to a stop in the middle of the road. The cop motioned ‘closer’ with his flashlight beam. I fumbled with the brake release and revved the engine too hard with the other handle grip. A sputter and click signaled that the scooter and I would move no further.
The cop sighed and walked the couple paces toward me, light shining right in my eyes, until he was nothing but a giant black dot with humungous feet. “Where you going?” His voice betrayed a much younger age than I expected. I shielded my eyes from the light as the cop repeated, “Where are you going kid?”
“Um, the library... sir.” I added that last part as an afterthought. With my eyes adjusted to the light, I could see that the cop in question, while large and round, was barely twenty. The uniform fit snug around his middle. He didn’t have a belt or a badge. No police cruiser or other officers surrounded us.
“Your parents know you’re out here?” He continued, finally lowering the flashlight and allowing me to see his red and black Southerland sneakers. Definitely not standard issue. He pulled a walkie-talkie out of his pocket, clicked a button on the side, and waited.
“My mommy told me to go find books... for my baby brother.” I flinched at the slip into ‘little kid mode’ but it worked.
The makeshift cop let go of the ‘call’ button and dropped the walkie back into his pants pocket. I thought I heard it clink against a stone. He wrung his hands for a moment. “What’s your name?”
“Synta.”
“And you live here?” He flicked his flashlight toward the entrance to my development.
“I live right there.” I pointed in the general direction behind me. It was too dark and smoky to see that far anyway, but something inside me knew not to be too specific. I did, however, turn my head enough to show off the bright white new bandage behind my ear. That did the trick.
“Just be careful, OK. There’s looters on the main roads.” The he added with a half grin, “Don’t think they’ll bother you at the library.” He stepped aside and shined the flashlight along the road. It caught a glint of metal on the grass shoulder, tucked into the tree line. I recognized it as a bike that had to belong to Officer Babyface.
“Have a nice day.” I punched the start code back into my scooter’s console and eased away.
Howie’s house was in the other direction but I wasn’t about to tell him that. So I drove off toward the library, muttering under my breath, ‘Have a nice day? Really Syn?’
After taking the long way around, I pulled my scooter to Howie’s curb. He threw a long leg over the seat in front of me and asked, “What took you so long?” I inched back to let him drive. Even though it was my bike, and pink, he never minded being seen driving it around. And I never minded not being able to see over him.
“There was a road block. Can you believe it?”
“I can’t believe anything that’s going on right now, Syn,” he replied, sounding more sad than disbelieving. I placed a hand on his back, as I would do for Brooks when he was upset.
“Well, I had to take the long way because I told the ‘cop’ I was going to the library.” I finger quoted.
“Yeah I saw on Channel 2 that the police were taking volunteers.” Howie entered the bike’s code and revved the tiny engine a little too long, as he always did. “Scary.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, not really knowing what was so scary about Officer Babyface.
By the time we reached the library, it was lighter out, but still not enough for almost noon. The gloominess added to my confusion at the library being closed. “What day is it?” I asked, realizing that this was the first time in a month that I had thought about the days of the week.
Howie looked at his MeFit, the orange back-lit screen cast a Halloween-ish shadow across his face. “It’s Tuesday. They should be open.” He revved the bike again and coasted around the perimeter. There were no cars in the back either.
“What do we do?” I asked, hoping Howie would take charge so I didn’t have to.
Taking a deep breath, Howie lowered the kickstand and gently leaned the scooter over on it. “Wait here. I’m gonna try the doors.”
I dropped my legs to keep from tipping off the back and watched him cross the empty parking lot, jiggle the door handle, and the other. He walked around the side of the building and tried to lift some of the windows, then turned and shrugged, “Now what?”
“I don’t know.” Looking around for anyone to come help, all I saw was thick dust swirling in the air. Still no cars or other people, same as before. I waved him back and as he started to cross the parking lot, there was a loud rumble behind me. I closed my eyes and waved frantically at Howie to hurry up. I wanted nothing more at that moment than to run home and get under my covers. I turned ever so slowly toward the sound.
A huge black truck flew around the curve and pulled into the lot, coming straight for me. Howie broke into a full run and jumped between me and the truck. He held out his arm to cover me from the opening passenger door. The truck loped in front of us, growling and smoking as a long hairy leg appeared. My grip on the back of Howie’s shirt tightened and I cowered behind him.
“Whatchu kids doin’ out here?” A voice as grizzled as the truck’s engine reached around Howie and rattled my nerves.
Howie puffed his chest, making himself appear bigger, even as his skinny frame betrayed him. “We’re looking for books, sir.”
“Books? Why you want those fer?”
“Research.”
The large man laughed. His meaty arms, folded on top of his ample belly, jumped with each jiggle of said belly. “Well you hurry up and git done.” Scary Santa told us. “It’s dangerous out here. Some bad people drivin’ around.” He shooed us toward the library.
“It’s closed.” Howie said.
“Everything’s closed now boy.” Scary Santa laughed again. “Hey Emmett,” he called into the truck. “You reckon we got somethin’ for that lock?”
“It’s alright...” Howie put his hands up in protest. “You don’t have to...”
“Yeah I got a lockpick right here,” came an equally grizzled voice from inside the truck. A shot gun barrel peeked around the door.
I tried to yell over Howie’s shoulder but a whispered, “No!” was all that came out.
“Aww don’t worry. I’m a good shot.” Scary Santa waddled toward the library.
I squeezed Howie’s arm tight. “Oh Stone! He’s gonna shoot it!”
“Um, sir,” Howie tried to reason with the man. “Please, you don’t have to do this. We can just...”
BLAM!
Fire shot from the gun barrel, kicking Scary Santa back a step. Smoke and burnt gunpowder swirled around his head, the smell already wafting toward me.
Emmett roared with delight from the truck and laid on the horn. “Woooo!”
Coughing and holding his ears, Howie yelled, “You alright?”
“What?” I yelled in return.
Scary Santa pushed the library’s door and glass crumbled to the ground. He turned back to us, gave a ‘thumbs up’ and grinned wide, showing off two black molars.
“Alright Randy, you had yer fun!” Emmett hollered from the truck. He gave one more good honk. “Let’s go before they think we ain’t coming!”
“Hold yer horses.” Randy crossed the parking lot as quickly as his weight allowed. As he climbed into the truck, grunting at the effort, he smiled back at us. “All yers.”
The engine roared to life. The truck lurched to attention, and we stared blankly as it thundered off.
Howie was the first to come to. “I can’t believe we just saw that.”
“I know, right.” I looked back at the library. Smoke from the shotgun blast dissipated, giving me a clear view of the missing door. Leaves swirled on the ground, made their way into the building.
“Be careful,” Howie warned as he tiptoed over the broken glass and opened the empty metal door frame. I followed step for step into the dark building. Howie flipped the light switch up and down a couple times before giving up. He tapped his MeFit watch and a beam of light illuminated the first foot or so in front of us.
I inched closer to him, berating myself again for losing my MeFit.
“You have any idea where we’re supposed to look?” His flashlight app scanned the room.
“Reference stuff. Prolly in the back.”
“Hope you know the Dewey Decimal System.” He waved the light over the ‘Reference’ sign on a tall bookshelf and the four other shelves behind it.
I huffed an obvious ‘nope’.
We had leafed through a few books on the lower shelves when I found what I needed. “Farmer’s Almanac 2200.” I held it up for Howie. “Kinda old but it should be fine.”
“Yeah, I don’t think vegetables have changed much in forty years... or ever.” Howie shrugged. “How about construction? You need to know any of that?” He flipped through more pages.
“Probably not but she said get everything.” I shrugged and opened my bag. Howie tossed the book, along with a few more, overhand like he was dunking basketballs.
He picked up a large book with both hands and asked, “Hey Farmer Syn, wanna know how to milk cows?” He howled with laughter and put the book back on the shelf.
“Alright Howard. Let’s wrap this up. I need to get back to Bit.” I dropped more random books in my bag and zipped it.
As we turned to leave Howie squealed like a teenage girl and ran to a display table. “Look who I found!” He shined the MeFit light on a book cover that set my face aflame. “It’s your boyfriend Dayne!” Howie flicked page after page of glossy pictures. Dayne’s high cheekbones and straight black hair glinted in the light.
“Stop it!” I swirled to leave without Howie, sending the heavy book bag tumbling into a display table. A stack of books fell to the floor at my feet. Howie stopped giggling long enough to point the light over the pile and I gasped. “Oh! Good Morning Butterfly! Bit loved Goodnight Caterpillar!”
“So get it.”
Clutching the children’s book to my chest, I looked around as if someone would jump out of the darkness and catch me.
“Nobody’s here Syn. You heard the rednecks.” Howie walked up behind me and grabbed the backpack. “Come on.” He took the book from me and shoved it into the already overflowing bag, which now wouldn’t zip.
I saw the Dayne book sneak itself into the bag as well and smiled, deciding to give Howie the satisfaction of taking care of me. Sighing for dramatic effect, I clapped my hands. “Well I don’t know about you but I’ve had my fill of creepy libraries.”
“Yeah let’s get you home. You got some learnin’ to do.” Howie affected his best Randy impression, patting an imaginary belly.