The Road Home by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 17

Occasionally, Maya glanced out the window for signs of anyone who didn’t seem to be part of the neighborhood. She wasn’t sure what to look for beyond any suspicious activity, but she felt compelled to keep a watchful eye nonetheless. But there was something in the distance; a quiet sound she was not familiar with. Over the next few moments, the sound grew louder, followed by panicked screams and loud voices demanding order. Looking out the window, Maya was shocked to see a row of military trucks lining the street. What was more frightening was the sight of armed people in hazmat suits breaking into neighboring apartments, forcing them out, and piling them into the waiting tricks. Waking Aurora, she crawled away from the window, telling Aurora to follow without getting up. Once they were safely away from the window, both got to their feet, and running to each room alerted their roommates.

“Guys,” Maya began. “We’ve got to get out of here! The military’s dragging people out into the street. We’ve got to hide somewhere.” Everyone jumped to their feet while Maya directed them to the back of the kitchen. Calling for quiet, she opened the back door and led everyone down into the basement and towards the back. With the power out, she hoped they would not be discovered, but sitting quietly on the dirt floor they could hear the chaos of men yelling orders and rummaging through rooms and closets. Realizing the consequences of being caught, everyone remained quiet—all but Aurora, who sat curled up next to Maya trying to muffle her tears. With her arms around her, Maya stroked the side of her face in an attempt to calm her, and it seemed to be working. In the most brutal of times, a bit of compassion can go a long way.

Having made quick work of their search, the men in protective suits retreated back to the street, leaving the now former students to sit in the eerie quiet of the basement. Their sense of time had been lost, with minutes having turned into moments, turned into heartbeats of growing insanity. Finally, Jackson spoke up. “Do you think they’re gone?”

Another long silence passed as each listened to the empty air, hoping to hear nothing. “I don’t know,” Maya replied.

Everyone spoke in whispers, fearing they might be heard by those who, by now, were on their way to who knows where with most of their neighbors stolen away.

“Maybe we should check,” Eli suggested. Everyone was asking the same question, but no one wanted to go alone for the answer. Finally, Maya stood up and, walking towards the front of the basement, announced that she would investigate. But before climbing the stairs, she turned towards her friends and assured them she would return soon.

Once on the second floor, Maya quietly walked through the apartment. The bedroom doors had been violently pushed open, with some cracked down the middle. Glancing into each room, she also discovered that they had been thoroughly ransacked--clothes strewn over the floor, closets emptied, and anything breakable shattered. It was almost as if those who had invaded the security of their home enjoyed rummaging through it, destroying what they could simply out of pleasure. But now they were gone, convinced there was no one to take into custody. Before she could allow herself to relax, there was one more thing to be examined—something important. Maya hoped to be pleasantly surprised but walking to the front door she saw the door had been kicked in. It now resembled more a pile of toothpicks than a means of security. “Fuck,” she whispered.

It was beyond repair, and the only way of maintaining both their security and privacy was to seek out another place of shelter.

Returning to the back of the apartment, Maya walked down the stairs and from the bottom step gave an ‘all clear’. Standing up, the four remaining roommates walked towards the stairs and asked if it was safe to go back up.

“Yeah,” Maya replied. “But you’re not going to like what you see.”

No one knew what to expect. Perhaps there was a body in the living room or some other tragic event left behind by what seemed to be government-sponsored marauders. The greatest fear is often generated by what is not expected, and what they would soon see was no exception.

Climbing to the second floor, the group entered the kitchen and looking down the hallway brought a sight that left them without words. Certainly, the military, guided by a longstanding code of honor, could not be so willfully destructive. Now, standing in the middle of the apartment, each was left dumbfounded by the chaos that lie around them. Their lives had not simply been invaded but violated.

“What the fuck happened?” Jackson asked. “I thought they were just relocating people. Did they really have to do this?”

Aurora burst into tears. For her, home was a sanctuary; a safe haven from a world of cruelty and violence. It was for this that she had rented the room in the back of the apartment. The relative isolation brought her not only a sense of safety but a feeling of calm, being as far as possible from the background clamor of the streets. Now, she felt helpless.

“What are we going to do?” she asked. Tears continued streaming down her face. She was not from Tacoma but from rural California and, being accustomed to the solace of the countryside, she found city living both difficult and frightening. The city is no place for a California girl.