Waking Up

5 - Killing Animals

As we climb down to the river's edge to a building that looks somewhat intact, a glimmering star in the twilight sky catches my attention. I point up to the sky and say, "That's Mercury." Blackie cocks his head up at me and barks. I stop and gaze at it's simplicity, sitting there in space, winking as if to tell me everything will be okay.

"What star is that?" Luke asked that August evening as we waited for the meteor shower to begin. As we lied on the thick patchwork blanket in the middle of a wide field, occupied by dozens upon dozens of stargazers, Luke reached up towards the night and tried to grab something. 

"That's not a star, Luke. That's a satellite. See how fast it moves?"

"Oh yeah."

My eyes eventually adjusted to the darkness, and the ancients of the universe appeared before me. I felt so small and insignificant, somewhat abandoned by the creator of the cosmos. How can someone who created something as vast and wondrous as the universe even know I'm alive? My mind spiraled towards depressing existential thoughts until Luke asked, "So where is Venus?"

"Venus isn't out tonight. Venus appears in the morning in August."

"Oh, right, right." Luke said with certainty in his tone. "So what planet is part of the Persian meteor shower?"

I chuckled. "You mean the Perseids meteor shower. There are no planets part of the meteor shower."

"Look, Dad. Another satellite. And another."

"Nope. Those are the first few meteors. We should see more meteors any moment now."

As if on cue, white diagonal dashes filled the night sky, and a collective gasp emanated from the field of onlookers. "Wow," Luke said as the field went silent and the celestial symphony took our breath away. 

Mercury isn't going anywhere, so I continue my trek down towards the building, chuckling at Luke's exaggerated four-syllable pronunciation of Per-se-id-es. 

The further I move away from the city, the less damage I see. Everything seems abandoned, but at least there aren't mountains of building debris to climb over. We spot a high school and raid the vending machines for snacks and drinks. We cruise the hallways and check each room for a radio or a working computer or any communication device. None of the lights work.

In the janitors room, I find hand soap, which I use to wash my entire body. I give the dogs a good scrub-down in the locker room showers. Blackie and Goldie stood still as I lathered them up. Brownie was impatient, but after a few attempts of chasing her around the shower, she let me wash her. I even brushed their teeth with a toothbrush I found in the coach's office. I tossed several toothbrushes and a toothpaste tubes into my backpack, along with a few other items from the coach's office.

We leave the school and follow signs heading towards a marina. The street is lined with abandoned houses . The dogs and I get a nice change of clothes from a brick, two-story house where, apparently, a lot of dogs lived. Real dog food and dog clothing - the trio get properly fitting sweaters. After eating a better meal of nuts and crackers and some salami that still looked good even though the mini-fridge has no power, we head towards the marina. 

A yellow glow shines through the windows of the last house on the road before having to make a turn. I stop walking. Blackie whines next to me, Goldie and Brownie stop their march and turn around to face us. They sit on their hind legs and cock their heads at me, awaiting instructions. 

As if a dog whistle was blown, the dogs stand up, turn their heads towards the house, and make a run for it. Barking, the three sprint down the street as if they're chasing a rabbit on a hunt. 

"Blackie, no!" I shout.

Then, I hear a scream. A little boy. It sounds like Luke. I know it can't be, but it sounds exactly like him. The little boy calls for his mommy. I hear a woman scream, "No, please. No!"

I dash for the house where the dogs are all scraping at the front door. I pick up a large black metal rod from the ground and I kick the door down. A woman is sprawled out on the floor being held down by a shaggy-haired man as another man with his pants at his knees lays on top of her. 

"Holy shit!" the man says as he stands and backs away.

The man on top of the woman stands and pulls up his pants up. "Hey man. Everything's cool." He shuffles over behind the blond guy as he struggles with his belt buckle. "You want a piece of her? She's all yours."

The little boy is crying in the corner, whimpering "Mommy" over and over, standing in a pool of pee. The woman runs to him, on her knees, naked from the waist down.

A second passes, maybe two, before a rage ignites inside of me. I have to kill these men. I have to kill these animals. 

Without wasting another moment, I start swinging. I hit the shaggy-haired guy square on his jaw, blood splattering along the pale colored wall as he falls flat on the ground.  The second guy puts his hands up and begs, "No. No. No. No...There's no need for that." He looks upon his friend lying face-down in a growing pool of blood. I swing again. The man falls down, wailing,  and attempts to crawl away, but my arms are quick to land the final blow to the back of his head. The metal rod jams into his skull.

I take off my black sweater and cover the woman. "Did they hurt you?" 

She says nothing. She simply holds her son and sobs. 

I turn off the flashlights that were placed to shine upwards towards the ceiling. After looking out the windows, I check the window locks and lower all the curtains. I close the front door, making sure it's locked. "Wait here. I'll get you and your son some clothes. Okay? If you see anyone else, scream and I'll come right down."

She nods, holding her son tight.

As I rummage through the closets on the second floor, all I can think about is Marissa and Luke. This could have been them. This can happen to them. My guts twists into knots as my mind replays the scene with Marissa on the ground and Luke standing in the corner. When I open a closet full of children's clothing, I find a blue and white track sweater that looks exactly like a sweater Luke would wear, and I bury my face in it and scream.