The Fourth Trumpet (5 page)

“Why didn’t Thor take me to them
yesterday
? He’s their dog. German shepherds
always
remain loyal to their owners. Always. Thor didn’t
do
anything. Oh, God, we-we have to
bury
them. We have to protect them from wild animals. We have to—”

“Andrea!” Keith grabbed both her arms and shook her. “Andrea. Listen to me. There’s
nothing
we can do for them. At this point, I don’t think they care whether they are buried or not. And I don’t know
why
the dog didn’t take you over there. Maybe he was trying to protect you from something. Now come on. We have to get back to your place.
Now.
Come on.”

Deep down, Andrea knew the wisdom in what he said, but she objected anyway. He didn’t argue, only nudged her out the door and closed it behind them. Then he lifted the long arms of the wheelbarrow with both hands and started pushing it along. Andrea trotted to keep up with him. They were halfway down the driveway when she remembered the dog food.

“Oh, no! I forgot food for Thor! I’ve
got
to go back and get it! He
has
to have dog food!”

“Okay, okay. Calm down. I’ll go. You stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“I saw it in the broom closet in the kitchen, beside the refrigerator. A big bag of dry kibble.”

He disappeared into the yawning blackness. Counting out the seconds, forcing her mind to focus on something benign, Andrea realized with a start that the wailing had stopped. The silence whooshing into the void was just as deafening. She closed her eyes and willed her breathing to slow.

It didn’t work. She couldn’t get enough oxygen. It felt like the time she and Berry were swinging on the rope hanging from the big old oak and she’d lost her grip. The wind had been knocked out of her and, for a minute, she’d truly thought she was dying. In a newfound panic, Andrea’s eyes snapped open. Maybe the black smoke-like stuff
was
poisonous. Maybe that’s why she was having trouble breathing. They were all going to suffer a slow, agonizing death of suffocation.

Keith materialized and took one look at her stricken face. “What?”

“I can’t breathe! I’m suffocating. I—”

Throwing down the large sack of dog food, Keith placed a hand at the back of her head and forced her to bend over. Within seconds, breathing became easier. He grunted. “You were having a panic attack. You’re all right. At least you’re not suffocating.”

“Oh, God.” she let out a long, pent-up sigh. “Yeah. Thanks. I do feel better. I’ve never had a panic attack, except in dreams. I’ve had some wild nightmares, but nothing like that. Oh God, that was awful. Awful—”

“Yeah, I know. Come on. Let’s go. I found the dog food, but there’s no room left in the barrow. Can you carry it?”

“Yeah. Sure. Of course.”

They moved as quickly as the darkness would allow. Keith struggled, needing both hands to push the heavy wheelbarrow. Andrea hefted the forty-pound bag of dry dog food and tried to hold the flashlight. She dropped the flashlight three times.

Seeing her stagger under the weight of the large sack and her clumsy handling of their much-needed source of light, Keith stopped and set the barrow down. “Here. We’ll try to balance it on top of this junk. It’ll at least give you a chance to catch your breath. I need you holding the flashlight more than Thor needs this food.”

“We need Thor,” Andrea snapped back. “He was here before you!”

“I didn’t mean that!” he retorted. “I only meant that he
could
eat other stuff if he had to. We, however, can’t see two feet in front of us.
We
need you to hold the light. Get it?”

“Yes. Sorry.”

“Me, too. We’re both scared, Andrea. Just because I’m a guy doesn’t mean I’m not petrified. I’m scared pea-green. And I’ve got a young woman who’s soon to be a mother to worry about.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’d been keeping fairly sane until you told me about…”

“About your friends. I’m sorry, Andrea. That must’ve been quite a shock for you.” He lifted the handles on the wheelbarrow and started pushing. It wasn’t going to be easy.

“It was and I don’t know why. For all I know,
everybody
I love is dead. My aunt, my uncle, my cousin, Carrie’s husband.”

“Where are your parents?” Keith panted as he trotted behind the squeaking wheelbarrow. The heavy load was taking its toll.

“My parents? My mother died a long time ago when I was only eight. Breast cancer that metastasized.”

“Sorry.”

“I’ve gotten over it. My dad died four years ago. I was in eighth grade. A plane crash. He and a friend took a small plane up to Calgary. And they crashed. Ice on the wings or something.”

“Jeez. Was your dad the pilot?”

“No. His friend was. And he was
supposed
to be a
good
pilot. Supposedly never took unnecessary chances. But obviously something went wrong. My dad’s brother and his wife took me in. My cousin Berry and I get along pretty well. He’s a whiz in school, though, while I’m what you call a reluctant student.” She chuckled wryly. “We’ve had some far-out arguments about all that.” Andrea paused, shifted a few things slipping off their load, then said in a softer voice, “I wish…”

“Wish what?”

“I wish I knew what happened to them—my uncle and aunt. Where’d they go? I
know
they wouldn’t have left me behind willingly.”

Keith didn’t bother to comment. They’d reached their driveway and that spurred both of them on. With all the energy he had left, Keith pushed the wheelbarrow up to the front porch of the big, dark house. If they hadn’t known better, they would’ve thought the place uninhabited. Andrea sprinted up the six steps and yanked on the door handle. It was locked.

“Hey, Carrie. Open up. It’s us. We’re back.”

Andrea heard Thor’s staccato barks, and then there was the sound of the bolt being thrown back. The door opened a crack and a white face peered out. Carrie’s eyes were huge, the pupils, dilated. Andrea pushed the door open. The young woman was hugging herself and trembling from head to foot.

“It’s all right, Carrie. Go sit down. We’ll get the stuff inside. Are you okay?”

Carrie shook her head, opened her mouth to speak but no words came out.

“Go sit down. We’ll talk about it as soon as we get unloaded. We’re cold. And for goodness sakes, light the candle. Why did you blow it out?”

Keith and Andrea each had to make two trips to empty the big barrow of all the pilfered loot. Keith hauled in the heavy sack of dog food, set it in the kitchen. He chuckled when Thor sniffed all around it hungrily. After Andrea had put away the supplies, and Keith had rolled the wheelbarrow behind the house, they joined Carrie in the living room. Before he sat, Keith placed more logs on the fire. Andrea lit the candle on the coffee table after sending Carrie a quizzical look. The pregnant woman was beginning to worry her.

Soon the flames leaped in a frenzied dance. Shadows jumped off the walls and made the dog bark and snap at the unknown adversary. Andrea had to tell him to sit, twice, before he grudgingly obeyed. Thor’s only objective was to protect his new mistress. She appreciated that and gave the old dog a fierce hug.

She pulled another blanket from the pile lying, unceremoniously, on the foyer floor and wrapped it around Carrie’s still shaking, hunched shoulders. The young woman hadn’t said a word since the two had returned from their scavenging.

Andrea looked at Keith with raised eyebrows. Carrie didn’t look good at all, and Andrea was concerned. Keith knelt beside Carrie and took her ice-cold hands in his big, square ones and rubbed. “Carrie, honey, everything’s all right. We were able to get lots of canned stuff and boxes of pasta and, well, we’ve enough food to last us quite a while. Okay? Okay, honey?”

Carrie closed her eyes and squeezed out several tears, which rolled down her pale cheeks.

Keith shook her gently. “Carrie? Can you talk to us?”

“Something happened to frighten her, I think,” Andrea said, hearing just a hint of fear creeping into her voice.

The young man nodded and turned to look at his neighbor. “Carrie, did something happen while we were gone? Please tell us.”

Carrie swallowed with difficulty. Then she spoke in a broken voice that was barely audible. “I-I was standing by the-by the window. Watching through the drapes. Waiting for you. I knew I wouldn’t be able to see you, but I…” Her voice trailed off and she looked beyond Keith, toward the big, picture window that faced the driveway. Her eyes grew larger as she recalled what had frightened her so much. “I saw-I saw something. Something big. With eyes.”

“With
eyes
? Come on, honey, what did you see? An animal? Did you see an animal?”

“Keith, it was
horrible
. It was the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen. It was huge. It was bigger than your truck, Keith.” Her voice rose an octave. “Keith! It was part cat, part human, part,
oh.
I don’t
know
what. It was hideous. Its eyes were a yellow-green and they glowed. They
glowed
, Keith. Even in the darkness, I could
see
them. And it-
it
was staring right
at
me. It
saw
me. It knew I was in here. Oh, God. Where’s Rob? I need Rob. I want my husband.”

Keith held the young woman against him, running his hand down the back of her head, smoothing her tousled hair, trying desperately to calm her. “But, honey, how
could
you have seen anything in this darkness. Why, Andrea and I had trouble seeing just
two feet
in front of us out there. Are you
sure
you saw something? You weren’t just imagining it because you were so worried about us—about Rob? You’ve been pretty upset and—”

She pushed him away. “No! No, I was
not
imagining it. I
know
you think I’m nothing but a hysterical pregnant woman, but I know what I saw. It was horrible. It was a monster. It was sitting out there in the front yard. Just
watching
the house. It
knew
I was in here. It was looking right
at
me, and I was hidden behind the drape. Oh, God. Please, help us. Rob, oh, Rob. Rob. Rob.” With that, she burst into wracking sobs. No amount of comforting would calm her.

Keith sat back on his heels and watched helplessly. It was obvious he didn’t know what to do and was more than concerned. Andrea grabbed the young woman’s hands. She tried to pull her up, groaning at the dead weight of the disturbed woman. Carrie fought off her attempts, hitting Andrea hard on the ear.

Andrea, temper already on edge, slapped Carrie across the face, then recoiled in horror. “Oh, I’m
sorry.
Carrie, I’m sorry.”

Carrie stopped screaming and looked up in bewilderment. Keith put his arm around her quaking shoulders, murmured a few indiscernible words, then turned to Andrea, who still stood in horror at what she’d done. He shook his head and grinned. “Don’t worry, Andrea. The movies weren’t lying when the hero did that to the leading lady. I guess this is when Carrie is supposed to say something like, ‘thanks, I needed that.’ Don’t worry. I think you just may’ve helped her more than you realize. In her condition, all this trauma can’t be good.”

“All the same, I am very,
very
sorry. I’m not usually so, so…”

“So violent?” Keith chuckled. “As I said, don’t worry about it. It stopped her hysterics, didn’t it? Why don’t you go fix us something mouth-watering to eat? We’ll celebrate. We’ll have a party.”

Andrea wrinkled her nose then shrugged. “Sure. Why not? I can do that. I’m not sure it will qualify as a party, but I’ll see what I can scrounge up.” She turned to leave the room, paused, then pivoted on her heel to face him again. “Keith?”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks. Thanks for being here. I don’t know what I would be like now if I had to handle all this alone. I’m really,
really
glad you stumbled onto this house.”

Keith smiled. “Ditto.”

Andrea returned his smile then left him to deal with the traumatized girl whose belly carried a baby that could make an appearance at any time. Especially under these circumstances. What would they do then? Andrea cringed at the thought.

SEVEN

While Keith sat beside Carrie and continued to reassure her that everything was going to be all right, Andrea went about preparing a better-than-average supper for them. Keith had told her to make it a party, so she wanted it to be especially nice. She gazed longingly at the oven, separate from the stove, and wished she could bake cookies or a cake, or
something!
But, when the old gas oven had worn out, they’d replaced it with an electric model. Big mistake.

Taking one of Aunt Claire’s cookbooks from the kitchen bookcase, she thumbed through it in search of a no-bake cookie recipe. The candle she’d lit and placed in the middle of the table gave insufficient light for comfortable reading. It struck her that Abe Lincoln had had a harder deal to contend with than she’d credited him.

Then she found a recipe for peanut butter cookies that required only instant oats, sugar, peanut butter and melted chocolate. They had the necessary ingredients and in minutes, the chocolate pieces were melting on top of the stove and instant rolled oats and sugar were mixed with a cup of gooey peanut butter.

While waiting for the chocolate to cool, she opened the freezer. “Oh, no,” she moaned, realizing that Aunt Claire had stocked up a lot of meat, which was thawing rapidly. “Guess we’ll eat like kings for a few days. Got to use this stuff up before it goes bad.”

She pulled out a pound of hamburger, tore off the wrapping and dumped it into a skillet. While that cooked, she chopped an onion and added it to the frying meat. Next, she got out a large jar of spaghetti sauce, put it into a saucepan with a sprinkling of brown sugar then left it to simmer at the back of the stove. A few minutes later, pasta was tumbling in a big pot of boiling water on another burner. They were going to achieve their goal. It smelled delicious.

With everything pretty much ready—just waiting to be dished up—she spooned globs of the cookie dough onto waxed paper. The gooey stuff needed thirty minutes to set and would be ready to enjoy by the time they finished eating and had digested for a while. Surveying her handiwork with satisfaction, Andrea made herself a cup of tea and plopped onto one of the kitchen chairs.