4

He started to move towards the doorway. He’d only taken a single step before the door to his parents’ room squeaked open.

Megan peeked her head out of the bedroom door and looked around. Once she opened the door enough for him to pass through, he slipped inside. He looked around and couldn’t help but feel sad.

This place, his home, would need to be left behind. They needed to…

Where will we go? What will we do? All questions for the future, he decided. When he knocked on the door, he heard a frightened squeal. “Mom, Megan, it’s me.”

The door was open faster than he could blink, and Mom’s arms wrapped around him. “Oh god, Jordan. I was so scared, we all were.”

“I’m fine. How’s Dad?” He focused on the most important thing. The Essence he absorbed would make up for the injuries he took, and if it didn’t, he knew a place to find more Essence. In fact, everywhere was a good source for the strange energy at this point.

“He’s sleeping now. We stopped the bleeding, and I stitched him up,” she said with a grimace. “It’s been so long since I…”

“It’s okay, Mom. He’ll be okay.” Truthfully, he didn’t believe the words he said, but he couldn’t bear the thought of her panicking. The world outside was in shambles, chaos reigning supreme. “We… can’t stay here, Mom. We have to leave.”

“What? Jordan, your father can’t move.” She shook her head profusely. Hysteria crept into her voice as she considered his implications. “There’s no way he’ll be able to make it anywhere. You—there has to be another way!”

He hugged her tightly. “We won’t leave him…”

Megan stood from Dad’s side and walked over, wrapping her arms around the both of them. Her voice was hoarse as she whispered, “Thank you.”

Embracing them allowed him to ignore the rampaging monsters in the city. It took him back to a sweet summer in a better time. However, the swords in his hand broke that immersion, wrenching him back to reality.

“Okay, I’m gonna collect some stuff and try to see if I can make a gurney for Dad. We won’t leave him behind for those… monsters.” Without another word, he turned and left the room, closing it behind him.

He set the swords on the couch, grabbing Megan’s backpack and a trash bag. He started stuffing clothes for all of them into the trash bag regardless of whether they were clean or not. Showers would probably become a rare commodity in the near future, so cleanliness was more or less optional.

Gross but true. He did everything he could in order to stop himself from thinking of Dad. For his entire life, Dad had been such a strong presence. Charismatic, kind, patient. All things Dad exuded without even trying. Stop!

Focusing on the task at hand, he finished stuffing a second trash bag. There was no way either one would fit into the backpack, so he tied them closed and left them on the couch next to the swords. They… wouldn’t be able to take all that. Realizing this, he dumped the clothes out and made sure that there was an extra change for each person, throwing in two changes of socks and underwear—which required him to ignore how disgusting the task was.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

That was fairly easy to do with the state of things. Numbness threatened to consume him, but he fought back against it. He wouldn’t allow himself to shut down, no matter how much he wanted to.

And, oh boy, did he want to.

Now that he’d emptied the clothes from the bags and downsized things, he tied the bag to the outside of the backpack. Next, he started looking around for any non-perishable foods—cans upon cans of refried beans, green beans, black beans, pinto beans.

Beans galore.

The sound of footsteps clambering down the hall set him on high alert, and he darted toward the swords on the couch. Grabbing them, he approached the door, hoping and praying that it wasn’t Rasputin and the Goblin Swordsmen.

Just in case, his body was prepared to dart the other way. But his worry was for nothing.

Randall came into view, taking up the door frame. A large leather holster wrapped around his right thigh. In it, a shotgun. However, that wasn’t the only firearm he toted. A handgun—some pistol Jordan couldn’t identify—was aimed straight at his chest.

“Jordy?”

“Randall? What are you doing here?” Jordan lowered the swords, letting them dangle by his sides.

“I came as fast as I could. Where’s the rest of your family?” Randall lowered the gun, quickly walking over to Jordan and analyzing the different wounds across his body. “Jordy… What happened?”

Jordan quickly recounted the story. Randall holstered the handgun into a secondary, smaller holster located at the back of his hip behind the shotgun. They both stepped into the bathroom and saw his Mom, Dad, and Megan right where he’d left them. As soon as he saw Dad’s state, Randall rolled up his sleeves and began to analyze the wound. Instead of watching Randall work, Jordan left the bathroom to continue his scavenging.

They had a secondary medicine cabinet in the kitchen. He crossed the living room and set the swords on the counter, making sure they were within reach. Opening the cabinet, he sighed. Mom didn’t believe in anything stronger than PainAway, so the only other thing in the cabinet was some cold medicine. Won’t know when we’ll need some and not be able to get it. Better than nothing. He took all that he could and stuffed it into the backpack.

Megan startled him, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Sorry, I tried to get your attention…”

“It’s fine,” he said. “What are you doing out here?”

“Mom wanted me to help you pack,” she muttered, staring at her backpack numbly. Her face was stained with dried tears, her eyes puffy and swollen. “Wh—what can I help with?”

A loud crash sounded from the hallway. He waited, holding a finger up when Megan opened her mouth. The distinct sound of Goblins, with their guttural and high-pitched voices, echoed through the hall.

“Get down!” he hissed, grabbing the swords from the counter. There was no telling how many would be out there. Megan’s presence made things more difficult. He couldn’t use the same tactic as before.

The sound grew louder, the snorting and huffing similar to a pig.

“J—Jordy, I’m scared.” Megan curled up with her back pressed against the cabinets, hiding as far from the door as she could. Tears streamed down her face again. “I’m s—scared.”

He put a finger to his lips and gave her a weak smile, mouthing the words “it’s okay”. It took him a few times before her eyes recognized his meaning. She nodded, wiping the tears from her face. Her eyes darted between the door and their parents’ room, but he shook his head.

Two Swordsmen peeked into the room, sniffing around. A larger group cast shadows across the hall, but Jordan couldn’t discern how many there were. Gripping the swords tightly, he prepared himself to attack. If they took even two more steps…

A scream from down the hall grabbed the attention of the Goblins. They gave one more look around the apartment, briefly staring at the spots that once contained fallen Goblins, then left.

Letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, Jordan loosened his grip on the swords. Thank the Lord. Standing up, he wrapped his arms around Megan. “We’ll make it through this. I promise.”