Sirens were wailing—dozens, maybe more—some close, many far away. Blue and red lights splashed color through the trees from way down the street.
We weren’t in immediate danger, meaning we had a few minutes to breathe. No degenerate had his angry eyes on us. Darlene’s house was engulfed in flames reaching ten and twenty feet over the roof. Her next-door neighbor’s house was burning too, together flickering firelight through the neighborhood. Degenerates were starting on the next house down. The rioters’ pyromania wasn’t focused anywhere near us. Still, we all believed it was coming.
Jim wrapped an arm around Addy and cast worried looks at the row of houses in both directions and at the sea of rioters out in the nighttime street. He looked across the road and I followed his gaze, silently guessing that maybe he was looking toward the locations of alternate paths in his bug-out plan. He was doing well with escape routes up to that point and had made the prescient choice to get us out of Darlene’s house.
Despite all that, we couldn’t stay put. Violence and uncertainty were swirling around us, and if the mob didn’t motivate itself to move on down the road, our choices would slowly disappear.
I looked down at the pistol in my hand. It was raw power, but it was limited. It was a useful tool as long as I didn’t forget that. As soon as I started thinking it was a guarantee of safety, I’d likely get myself killed. The tacky blood on the barrel, left there by the gun’s previous owner, was a reminder of that.
Safety was mostly about doing the smart thing, or at least the smartest thing available. Sometimes that might be shooting, sometimes it might be running, sometimes hiding. So far, we’d utilized all three.
I realized then, maybe Jim was stuck with similar thoughts. He wanted to do the smart thing, but all the smart choices were off the table. We needed to take the least bad path available. I shuffled around to get Jim’s attention and spoke. “You said something about a bug-out plan or something?”
Jim didn’t look at me. “The hope was that we could hide in the attic or on the roof of one of the houses.”
“And?” I asked, knowing that someone who’d planned and prepared so much wouldn’t stop there. Did Jim’s plan end at a safe bunker in the woods? I hoped so. Such a place would be ideal for riding out the chaos, if I could convince him to let me bring my family along. But that part was a discussion for later.
Jim got up on his knees and peered over the roof’s peak. “I’m afraid the only open route will involve a truck I stole.”
“You didn’t steal it,” interjected Addy. “Nobody’s seen Mr. Porter in six months.” She looked at me. “He went degenerate.” She put a hand on her dad’s shoulder. “And Mrs. Porter died before Mom. I know the truck still belongs to Mr. Porter, but he’ll never need it again. I don’t know what it’s called for us to take it, but it’s not stealing.”
Jim’s plan for Mr. Porter’s truck sounded a lot like my plan for appropriating my neighbors’ things when they passed or degenerated too far to need them anymore. “Life changed,” I said, going through my rationalization on the matter, “rules need to change, too. The old ones don’t work anymore.”
“None of that matters,” said Jim. “It ain’t the stealing that bothers me. I’d break any law to keep Addy safe.” He pointed at the degenerates carousing around the fire at Darlene’s house. “You can hear them up and down the streets. I don’t know that we’ll be able to drive out of here. I don’t know why, but they hate cars especially the ones on the move.” He looked at me. “They might all come after us the way they chased the car you drove up in.”
“What other options do we have at the moment?” I asked.
“Stay here and hope the riot squads get here in time.” Jim cast a hopeful look in the direction from which the sirens seemed to be coming. “Or hide in one of these houses and hope it doesn’t burn. We’ve got cars and trucks stocked and stashed around. The Bronco at the Porters’ house is the only one we can get to right now. Or we can go on foot and maybe they won’t bother us once we’re among them. How do they know who’s who anyway?”
“Each option is a risk.” I stood in a crouch and looked around. “Staying up here is a mistake, I think. Things will only get worse for us.”
Jim nodded, so did Addy.
“Inside we might get caught in a fire,” I continued. “Is that what you think, Jim?”
“I don’t like the idea of being out in the street on foot with them.” Jim glanced at Addy again. If things went bad for us out in the mob, he’d not be able to protect his daughter.
“Mr. Porter’s house, then,” said Addy. “Let’s get to the truck. We can wait and see from there.”
Jim gave us a nod, and led us toward the next ladder bridge.
Following in the rear, I looked in the direction from which I thought most of the sirens were coming. Though I was crossways with the law at the moment, I was hoping they’d arrive in time to help.
With a concrete destination, we hurried quickly across the remaining houses and ladder bridges. Jim took pause when we arrived on Mr. Porter’s roof. The escape hatch was already open.
“Is someone inside?” asked Addy.
Jim stuck his head through the hole in the roof and listened.
I knelt on the rough asphalt shingles and leaned over the hole as well.
“I don’t hear anything,” Jim whispered.
With all the noise from the riot, it was hard to tell if the sounds I was hearing were coming from inside or outside of the house. “There might be someone down there.”
“Maybe,” Jim agreed. “If so, not many.”
I nodded before straightening up to scan across the other rooftops. “Other options?”
“This is the best one we can get to,” Jim told me.
Addy pointed. “Look. Mrs. Blumenthal’s is on fire now.”
Trees close to the house were burning, too. And it looked like the flames had jumped to the house on the other side of Darlene’s.
“We can’t stay,” Jim deduced. He pointed into Mr. Porter’s attic. “I’ll go down first. I’ll take care of whatever’s down there. You two follow in a minute, but give me some room.”
Jim waited for an acknowledgment from each of us. He laid his rifle down and then lowered himself through the roof. Once his feet were planted on the joists inside, Addy handed him his rifle. Jim crawled through the rafters, disappearing into the darkness.