After the Birds

Chapter Twelve

Remerton

NY, USA

2024

Andrea

Andrea makes sure Emma has everything they’ve gathered around the apartment. This is the second time she must face the fact that almost all the food is gone. What is worse, they’re down to two bottles of clean water. The faucets stopped working two days ago. They have to leave now, but at least they have the car. Andrea watches over it from the window every day. The windows are undamaged, and nobody seems to show any interest in it.

It took Eva three days to die. Andrea took care of her. It was simply too dangerous for Emma to be that close to her mother. Eventually, Andrea ended up having to wrap thick magazines around her arms since Eva bit and scratched when you least expected it. Her clawlike fingers could snag Andrea’s sweater or hair. Eventually, Eva gave up the fight after two days and stared up at the ceiling until she quietly passed away.

Emma could only be in her mother’s bedroom when Eva was asleep. Andrea didn’t want Emma to remember her mother as a raging madwoman. Her own mother had died without such torment, and she was eternally grateful for that.

When Eva took her last breath, some sort of peace was restored in the apartment. Once more, Andrea rolled a dead woman into a rug, this time a pink, flurry rug from Emma’s room. It was the only rug in the right size. Emma helped but cried and wiped her nose so much after a while that Andrea finished the job herself.

Now Eva’s body in its pink shroud lies on the balcony for three weeks and it’s time to leave the relative safety of the apartment. After one last check so they don’t forget something important, Andrea peers through the door eye before they open the door. She has her baseball bat in one hand and the car fob and keys ready in the other. Behind her, Emma tiptoes with one hand clinging to a strap on Andrea’s backpack.

Andrea has repacked everything they’re bringing and tried to be as efficient as possible. She has realized that bringing the tablets is a waste of space. Even if they can charge them, there’s nothing they can use them for that their phones can’t do. They have four phones now. Andrea’s, Mom’s, and Eva’s two phones, as she had a work phone as well.

They have tried to call Emma’s grandmother every day, but when the signals have gone through, it has been sporadically, and nobody has answered at the other end. Emma asks every time if this means that her grandmother is dead too. Andrea answers that she doesn’t know. She fears the worst. Perhaps the grandmother ventured out and got shot. Or perhaps she got sick, in the end.

They sneak down the stairs to the ground level. They don’t run into anyone, and nobody has touched the dead man by the elevator. Nobody had missed him and made sure to roll him up in a flurry pink rug.

Out on the street, Andrea scans the area carefully. The street appears deserted, but she can hear engines in the distance. The sound is sometimes punctured by the sound of someone shooting. Judging from the sound, she thinks it might be over by the blocks where someone shot at her and Emma. Andrea opens the door on the driver’s side.

“Come here and crawl over to the passenger seat in the front. Put your backpack between your feet. You can hold my bat.” Andrea points and Emma pulls off her backpack and tosses it into the car. As she climbs over the driver’s seat, Andrea pulls off her own backpack and throws it into the back seat. Like before, she’s not keen on locking it into the trunk. Closing the door, she locks the car from inside and smiles encouragingly at Emma. “That went well, right? Buckle up. I don’t have a license and who knows if I’ll end up hitting something.”

Emma fastens the seatbelt, but it ends up all wrong on her smaller body.

“Pull the top part behind you. It’ll have to do. You can’t have the belt across your throat.” Andrea shows her. Mom had done this with Theo once or twice when they had borrowed a car or forgotten Theo’s car seat.

“Do you really know how to drive?” Emma looks anxiously in all directions.
“I got it here, didn’t I? Several blocks. I’ll go slow at first. It’s an automatic, which is lucky for us.” Andrea starts the engine and tears up from sheer relief when it purrs to life instantly. She regards the science fiction looking instruments. How do you know how much gas is left in the tank? She has no idea. They just have to keep driving until it’s empty.

They have pored over maps and looked for places that can be better than the inner city of Remerton. Andrea isn’t sure why she thinks that the countryside has to be better and more peaceful than the city, but that’s how she feels. Emma agrees. She’s been visiting her paternal grandparents a lot in the countryside before everything happened, but she’s not sure where they live. Just that the place is called Shillings Creek. They look for it on the map and find it due north of Remerton. From what Andrea can tell, they just got to find the highway and then kept driving north.

She drives slowly down to the closest intersection and manages to turn the car around. At first, her driving makes the car jerk and bounce, but after a few blocks, she dares to increase the speed, and that makes for a smoother drive. She makes a detour to not have to pass where the shooters were three weeks ago. Following the signs to the highway, she manages to pass abandoned cars, burned out or just sitting there as if their owners just abandoned them—or passed away.

Thinking about the shooters, Andrea wonders if she is going to have to find a gun to protect her and Emma. She’s never even seen a gun before, unless you count the ones that police officers carry on their belts. Perhaps everyone needs a weapon after the birds? She has no idea where to find a gun or steal one. She just has to keep her eyes open.

Andrea crosses a bridge. Even more abandoned cars litter the four lanes and she weaves between them, afraid to hit one or get stuck.

“Th-there’s dead people in some of the cars, Andy.” Emma’s teeth clatter as she struggles to get the words out.

“Don’t look. Just look straight ahead and let me know if you see something that looks dangerous. Promise me that.”

“Okay. I promise.” Emma keeps her gaze forward. Her knuckles are white as she clings to Andrea’s bat. It’s damn near magical, that bat. It gives you such a feeling of security, when everything else is pure chaos.

Andrea keeps turning left after the bridge and after some stressful maneuvering among cars that look like they’re in line for something. Then she realizes that they are in line for something. Or were. Their drivers were trying to enter the car park to the large university hospital. So many people are trying to get help for their loved ones. Now, some of them are dead in their cars, and some are on the ground outside.

“Don’t look,” Emma whisperes. “Don’t look Just drive, Andy. Just go.”

Andrea dares push the accelerator harder and enters a stretch of the road that’s not as congested. The car handles well and she’s soon driving thirty miles an hour. It’s not very fast, she knows that, but to her, it feels as if they’re flying down the highway. Sometimes she must slow down and criss cross among some cars, but most of the time at least one of the lanes is free. On occasion they have to cross the meridian and drive on the wrong side. Who’s to know? It’s not like the police is coming to give her a ticket and make it hard for her to get her license in a few years.

Andrea snorts. She would be so happy if some cops would show up to fine her for driving without a license. Then they’d take her and Emma to a safe place where grownups could help them instead of dying the whole fucking time.

“Maybe we should have driven down to Grandma?” Emma wipes away tears but sounds calm. “I mean, we could’ve tried.”

“We talked about that, remember?” They had gone over everything about Emma’s grandmother several times. Andrea understood why Emma wanted to try, but there were two very good reasons why that was too dangerous. Whoever was firing from the rooftops was one. The creep that took Emma when she threw out garbage was another. Then there was too many narrow streets where they could get stuck and be vulnerable if someone decided they wanted the car. “I’m afraid to. When I’ve armed us better, and we can get around in a safer way, we might come back.”

“But it can be too late then,” Emma says, sounding unconvinced.

“I know. But think of it this way. Would your grandma want you to risk your life by entering the dangerous blocks around her house? Wouldn’t she want you to be safe?”

“Yes…”

“You know I promise mmy mom to find Theo. I haven’t given up on that, but I had to stop right now because it was too dangerous in his dad’s neighborhood too. All the doors were broken into, and you couldn’t close them or lock them from the inside. And that guy, the murderer in the basement, who knows where he is now? She hated having to frighten Emma, but she had to convince her little friend that they had to drive toward the countryside. “And who knows? We might just find your nanna and granddad alive and well.

Then you can stay with them while I go looking for the gear we need.”

“Are you leaving then?” Emma forgets about looking straight forward and snaps her head around and looks wide-eyed at Andrea. “We’re supposed to stick together!”

We are. I promised, didn’t I?” Promises are easy to give, but hard to keep, but the promises to Mom and Emma are sacred. “What I mean is, whether your other grandparents are alive or not, I have to find food and equipment. It’s easier for me to do that if I don¨t have to worry about you right then. I can get everything we need that way.”

“As long as you promise to come back. If not, then I have to come with you and make sure you’re safe.” Emma is angry now, but it’s so much better than the abandoned sadness she displayed before.

“For sure. I porimse to always come back to you, even if it sometimes can take a little time. I will never abandon you of my own free will. We’re like sisters now. When I find Theo, you will be almost like twins. He’s one year younger than you, but really smart and sweet. He beats me at all the games he has on his tablet, and he can read even if he’s just started first grade.”

“Oh. School. I haven’t been to school in ages, and I don’t read so well yet, even if I’m in second grade.” Emma looks concerned.

“When am I going to school? And where’s the new school where we’re going?”

“I have no idea how it’s going to be regarding school for you and me in the future. I was in eighth grade. When’s your birthday?"

“June fourth. I’ll be eight.”

“My birthday’s just before then. May thirteen. I’ll be fourteen.”

“That’s kinda old!” Emma giggles and Andrea has to smile. Yup, she sure feels old by now.

“We have to make sure that we have a party, no matter where we are. We can have one on June second. That’s right between our birthdays.” Andrea smiles even if it nearly hurts.

“Oh, good idea. Can I write a wish list?” Emma asks wistfully.

“Of course you can. Just remember that there no use in wishing for something that needs power. We can probably find batteries, but regular power with a cord won’t work so well,” Andrea says.

“Okay. I’ll remember that.”
Andrea notices that they’ve managed to reach the area where the highway is surrounded by industrial areas on both sides. So far, they haven’t seen any other cars, and she has time to slow down to read the road signs. As far as she can tell, they’re moving in the right direction. She’s supposed to keep going north until they reach a ramp that leads to a large intersection. She’s worried about turning off the larger road.

“Look,” Emma says and points to the south bound lanes. A car is speeding down the road and Andrea’s relieved that there’s a railing here between the lanes. Less risk of anyone colliding with them. Then she sees a stick being pushed out the window of the car hurtling closer. No. Not a stick. The front of a rifle.

“Get down!” Andrea yells and floors the accelerator. Something tells her that the faster she drives, the harder it is for a shooter to hit the car. A large bang is heard in the back of the car.

“Emma! Are you hit?” Panic stricken Andrea doesn’t dare to take her eyes off the road, to check on the girl. “Emma!”

“No, no.” Emma sobs. “But there was such a horrible bang.”

“They hit us in the back. I think they were shooting at the car. Rather the car and us, right?”

“Yeah.” Emma’s voice is weak, but she straightens and peers back between the seats. “There’s smoke back there. Is that because they hit it?”

“I don¨t know. I hope they didn’t hit the gas tank. I think it sits somewhere by the trunk. You know, where you stick the nozzle when you fill it up.”

Emma nods.

“Can you see the other car? Are they coming after us?” Andra is driving more than fifty miles an hour now and she’s so afraid of making a mistake and crashing the car, she’s nauseous. If she crashes at this speed, they might not make it.

“No,” Emma says. “They’re still going the other way.” Maybe it was some of those looters.” Emma has managed to scoot closer to Andrea despite her seatbelt, and now puts her head in her lap.

“I’m sure it was.” And somehow these guys, or girls, have gotten their hands on some weapons—unless they already had them. Maybe they were thieves all along.

They drive a few more miles, and Andrea keeps the speedometer at fifty miles per hour. The car jerks every now and then, but they must reach the countryside. The name Shillings Creek has become the beacon they’re striving to reach. It stands for safety and especially for Emma who longs for her grandparents. Well, Emma truly rather be with her maternal grandmother, but that can’t be helped.

They drive through a bend in the road and toward a bridge, when something happens with the car at the same time. It suddenly takes on a life of its own and begins to spin. A muted bang makes Andrea brake hard. She realizes that she’s misjudged the bend in the road as the car begins to skid back and forth.

Emma screams and clings to Andrea’s legs.

“Shit!” Andrea pulls at the wheel and tries not to panic. Then it’s as if the shoulder of the road comes rushing toward them and the car skids upp the embankment under the bridge. It ends up wedged into to a concrete column and both airbags deply with a sharper bang. A cloud of powder makes them cough and Andrea is grateful Emma was half on her lap as she feels the passenger airbag would have injured her. “Emma, we got to get out. Something’s burning. Get up!”

Emma coughs and holds on tight to Andrea. “Have we stopped?” she whispers huskily.

“Yes, but something smells as if it’s burning. We must get out. Come on now!” Andrea unbuckles them both and gets up on her knees on the seat and pulls her backpack close. Emma struggles with hers. It’s stuck around Andrea’s baseball bat and they spend some frenetic moments freeing it. Then Andrea pulls at the door handle, but nothing happens. She tries pressing the button to unlock the doors, but still nothing. Not even a clicking sound.

“Can’t we get out?” Emma hugs her backpack and stares at Andrea and then at the window. “Open the door!”

“I can’t. try your side.” Andrea’s heart is thundering, and she keeps coughing.
Emma yanks at the passenger door handle, and whimpers when it doesn’t open. When it doesn’t work, Andrea climbes over to the bad seat and tries the doors there with her ice cold, trembling fingers. Smoke fills the car and she keeps coughing and tears stream from her stinging eyes. The doors just won’t open.

“I’m going to try brea a window. Give me my bat.” Andrea reaches for it and Emma quickly hands it over. “Cover your eyes, Emma.”

“Okay.” Emma does as Andrea says, but peers between her fingers.

Andrea holds the bat and has to take a few moments to think. She can’t swing it in here. There’s no room. But perhaps she can use the tip of the bat? She grips it hard with one hand on the bottom and one half way up. She pushes it toward the backseat left window. She uses every bit of strength that she possesses. The bat bounces off the glass and Andrea manages to duck when it ricochets back at her.

“No!"

“What is it?” Emma’s shaking where she stands on her knees on the front seat, holding onto the backrest. “Didn’t it work?”

“No. I think it’s some sort of special glass. It would’ve broken otherwise.” Andrea is furious and scared. She coughs again. “We have to find a way to break it and get out. My knife’s not big enough, but I think we need something sharp.

“Is that the only sharp thing you have?” Emma asks.

“I don’t know…Oh. Wait.” Andrea remembers going through Eva’s closet and found a small toolbox. Since it was flat and didn’t take up much room, she had placed it at the bottom of her backpack. Now she pushes her hands down the sides of it and can feel the little box with her fingertips. There’s no time to unpack everything, but she thinks she can pry the lid open. Andrea feels her way to the two clasps on the front and manages to flip them open. She can tell she’s cutting her fingertops on the sharp plastic, but keeps going.

Emma coughs with each breath now and Andrea tells her to stay as low in the car as possible. She too coughs, but she has to get into the toolbox. Her eyes are running and she sobs furiously as she struggles with the box in her backpack. Then her fingers are suddenly through and she feels her way inside and identifies the claw part of the small hammer inside. She tugs at it, and scratches her hand even more, but ignores the pain.

Then she has the hammer in her hand and pulls it out of the backpack. Turning it in her grip, she slams the claw side into the window. A crack appears and Emma shouts.

“Look, Andy, look! It’s working!” She’s wheezing now.

Andrea hits again. The crack seems to crawl across the window and then it turns into an strange, lace-like pattern and the entire window becomes like glass gravel. It still sits in its frame, but Andrea gets on her back on the seat and drives both feet through it with full force. Finally! The window falls out of the fram and they have an escape route.

“Come on,” Andrea says and tugs at Emma. “I’ll help…” She has to stop talking because of the painful coughing. “I’ll help you outside first and then send our stuff out. Okay?”

“Okay.” Emma wriggles over to the backseat and sticks her feet out the window. Andrea holds onto her and lowers her slowly to the ground. Emma is petite for her age, and it makes it easier. Emma’s backpack and the bat go through next, but Andrea’s Fjällräven backpack is bigger and fully stuffed.

“I’ll remove some things. It won’t fit.” Andrea tears out clothes, as they are the bulkiest, and tosses them out the window. The pack goes through after that, with a few well aimed kicks. Before going through herself, Andrea looks around to see if there’s anything they can use. As it turns out, the car is so well kept, there’s nothing.

Andrea forces her body through the window and hope she doesn’t tear her jacket or jeans too badly. Emma does her best to help her, and soon they’re standing there, holding each other hard.

“You’re bleeding,” Emma whisperes and points to Andrea’s hand. “She has already begun putting Andrea’s clothes back in the large backpack. “We have to put on a bandage.”

“We will, but we can’t remain here. It’s just a scrape. It’s almost stopped bleeding.” It’s true, but it stings, and Andrea knows she’s got to clean properly as there’s nowhere to turn if it gets infected. She hears her mother’s voice in her head telling her these things.

They pull on their backpacks and walk toward the ramp they’d passed just before the bridge. Andrea keeps her bat ready and Emma slightly to her side, one step behind. She knows they need to find a better place to keep walking toward Shillings Creek. They can’t be out in the open. It’s too dangerous. Andrea nearly feels her knees buckle at the thought of being responsible for Emma. She can’t let anyone happen to her.

The road leading away from the bridge is smaller and there are apartment buildings further up. They need to stay away from them. Andrea insists that they walk just behind the tree line to the left.

After an hour, the roads has gotten increasingly more narrow and winding. The forest is now on both sides.

“We’re in the countryside now, right, Andy?” Emma stops walking. “I’m tired.”

“Hey. We have to continue a little longer. We’re not far away from that residential area yet. Let’s cross this field and then we can rest some when we reach the woods on the other side.” She points to the next treeline.

Emma mutters but gets up and takes Andrea’s hand. “I’m hungry.”

“I packed all the rest of your hard bread. We have water, and we must find more. I’m thinking there has to be a lake or a brook on the way to your grandparents.

Andrea doesn’t know if what she’s wishing for exists, but she must keep Emma’s hope up. If the girl loses faith in her and refuses to walk any farther, there’s no way Andrea can carry her. She would never abandon her little friend and that would mean they’d both be stuck. She wracks her brain for something more to say. “When we rest, we’ll pull out the first aid kit and you can be my nurse and fix my hand. I bet you’ll be great at that.” She feels a bit silly trying to sound so grownup and encouraging, but Andrea feels that’s what Emma needs. She needs a leader, a grownup right now, even if Andrea would rather not have to take on that part.

Emma appears energized and they cross the field. This forest is even dense, and they walk in among the tree. Andrea insists they walk until they can’t see the field. When they come upon a fallen tree in a small clearing, they pull off their backpacks and Andrea finds the small first aid kit. Emma turns out to know just what to do, and uses the disinfectant wipes and sterile gauze, securing it with four Mickey Mouse bandages. “There you go,” Emma says and smiles proudly.

Andrea pulls Emma in for a hug. “Thank God for you, Emma. I’m so glad you’re with me.”

“There, there,” Emma says, clearly sounding like her mother once did. “You’ll be fine.” She pats Andrea’s shoulders. “We’re sisters.”

“We are. Thank you.” Andrea’s so incredibly grateful to not be alone in the dense forest, even if the responsibility makes her lose her breath sometimes. “Thank you for you, girl.”

Emma smiles faintly. Ever since Andrea returned after looking for Theo, she has mostly been entirely serious. She has cried a few times, but mostly been stoic and collected. Now she smiles so carefully, it is painful to see. Not long ago, just a few months, it was Christmas and Emma, Theo, and Andrea had been smiling and laughing, and had a great time in their respective homes.

Andrea remembers she got an entire box set of make up from Mom. Antonio gave her books and a little reading lamp that she could attach to the book cover. Andrea wonders what Emma got for Christmas but doesn’t dare rock the boat by asking. Theo’s best present was some Lego game for his Xbox.

They sit a while with their arms around each other, but it’s not long before they’re both too cold.

“We have to continue,” Andrea mumures. “We’ll walk for as long as we can, but we have to find some shelter before it gets to dark. That’s our mission now.”

Emma nods and gets up. “But I have to sleep next to you,” She says and the shadows have returned to her light-blue eyes.

“Of could you do. It’s you and I now.” Andrea shoulders her backpack again and makes sure Emma’s sits properly on her narrow little shoulders. They can’t risk getting chafed. It’s important.

Then they continue their trek through a barely visible path, hand in hand.

Continued behind door 13

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