Henry stared out the window at the red-gray sky, tracing falling raindrops with a pudgy finger. In the front seat, his dad glared towards the traffic in front of them, knuckles turning white from his grip. The streets were eerily silent, cars abandoned and scattered like toys left behind by a careless child. Henry's dad muttered something under his breath, words Henry couldn't quite make out but sensed weren't very nice.
"Are we there yet, Daddy?" Henry asked, his voice filled with the innocent impatience of a five-year-old.
"Almost, buddy," his dad replied, forcing a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Just a little bit further."
Henry nodded, returning to his raindrop tracing game. He was excited about the new indoor park his dad had promised. It was supposed to be the best one ever, with slides, ball pits, and even a mini-train. Henry imagined all the fun he would have and felt a tingle of excitement in his belly. Or maybe he was hungry. The silence in the car was heavy, broken only by the sound of rain pattering against the windshield and the occasional rumble of thunder in the distance.
“Why is the sky red?” Henry asked, turning his curiosity to the unusual hue.
“It’s just the sunset, Henry. Nothing to worry about.” Henry could hear the leather squeak of the steering wheel as his dad gripped it tighter, and then released it. Grip, then release. He could remember his mom doing that too, the last time she had driven him to school before she got sick.
“Daddy,” Henry asked, voice just shy of a murmur. “Are any of my classmates going to be there?”
“I reckon.” his dad turned just enough for Henry to see the wrinkles near his eyes as he smiled. That smile looked like it hurt.
Something about the way his dad gripped the steering wheel, his eyes flicking nervously to the rearview mirror, made Henry feel uneasy. He tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the familiar comfort of his dad's presence and the promise of a grand adventure ahead.
As they crawled through the stalled traffic, Henry noticed the strange silence. Usually, there were honks, engines revving, and people shouting. Now, there was only the rain and the occasional distant scream or shout. He didn’t know how to put his feelings into words, but he felt uneasy.
“Daddy, why are all these cars empty?” he asked, pointing at the maze of vehicles ahead.
“People had to leave them behind, Henry. We’ll find out why when we get to the park, okay?” His dad’s voice wavered slightly.
Henry nodded, accepting the answer. His dad always knew what to do. But the closer they got to the park, the worse his dad’s driving became, weaving between lanes, and bumping over curbs.
Suddenly, the car jolted to a stop. Henry looked up to see a sea of abandoned vehicles blocking the road. His dad swore softly and slammed his fist against the steering wheel, making Henry jump.
“No hitting, Daddy,” Henry whispered. “‘S not very nice.”
"I’m sorry, buddy. It's gonna be okay, though," his dad said, softer this time. "We just… have to walk the rest of the way."
“Like an adventure?”
“Yeah, like an adventure.”
Henry nodded again, more subdued now. He watched as his dad got out of the car, rain immediately soaking his clothes. The car door opened, and Henry clambered out, his tiny red shoes splashing in the puddles. His dad handed him a small blue backpack, already packed and ready.
"Here, buddy. Put this on," his dad instructed, shouldering a larger bag himself.
"Is it far?" Henry asked, struggling to put his arms through the straps.
"Not too far. We'll be there soon," his dad assured him, though his eyes darted around the deserted road, eyes moving like Henry’s did when he was looking for monsters. But Daddy said monsters weren't real…
They started walking, the rain still falling steadily. The world felt eerie to Henry, like a strange dream where everything was slightly off. Houses and shops they passed were empty, doors swinging in the wind, windows broken.
“Daddy, why is everything closed?” he asked, his small hand gripping tightly to his dad’s.
“People had to leave quickly, Henry. We’ll be safe soon, I promise.”
As they walked, Henry noticed more and more things that didn’t make sense. Why were there no people around? Why were there broken windows and overturned trash cans? His dad seemed to be looking around more nervously too, eyes darting to every shadow.
They walked in silence for a while, the sound of their footsteps mixing with the rain. The world around them seemed deserted, with no sign of life except for the occasional bird flying overhead. Henry kept his eyes on the ground, watching his feet splash in the puddles, trying to make a game out of it.
“Are we going to meet Mom there?” Henry asked, suddenly missing her intensely.
His dad’s face tightened. “Mom’s already at the park, waiting for us. We just have to get there, okay?”
Henry nodded, though he felt a bit uneasy. He trusted his dad, and if his dad said they were going to meet mom at the fun new park, then that's where they were doing, no ifs, ands, or buts.
As they rounded a corner, Henry saw something that made him stop in his tracks. A dog lay on the sidewalk, motionless. He tugged on his dad’s hand.
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“Daddy, look! That doggy needs help!”
His dad pulled him along, not stopping. “We can’t help it right now, Henry. We need to keep moving.”
Henry looked back at the dog, tears welling up. “But it’s hurt!”
His dad knelt down to look him in the eye, avoiding getting his knees too wet. “Henry, I know it’s hard, but we can’t help right now. We have to get to the park. It’s very important.”
Henry sniffled but nodded, trusting his dad’s urgency. They kept walking, the sky growing darker, the rain heavier. Every now and then, they’d hear noises—crashes, shouts, sometimes even growls—that made Henry’s heart race.
“Daddy, what’s that noise?” he asked, gripping his dad’s hand tighter.
“Just some animals, Henry. They’re scared too.” His dad’s grip tightened, almost painfully.
Henry's shoes made squelching sounds as they continued through the puddles, each step feeling heavier than the last. He tried to keep his thoughts on the park, imagining the colorful slides and the sound of laughter. His dad walked quickly, pulling Henry along, their hands tightly clasped together.
The rain was coming down harder now, stinging Henry’s face and soaking through his clothes. He shivered, his little body not quite used to the chill. His dad paused for a moment to adjust Henry’s hood, making sure it covered his head.
“There you go, buddy. Gotta keep you dry,” his dad said, his voice softening as he ruffled Henry’s hair.
Henry smiled up at him, his teeth chattering slightly. “Thanks, Daddy.”
They walked past a row of empty houses, their windows dark and foreboding. Henry noticed the curtains billowing through broken panes, looking like ghostly hands waving at him. He clung tighter to his dad's hand, his imagination getting the better of him.
“Daddy, are there ghosts here?” he asked, his voice trembling.
His dad chuckled, though it sounded forced. “No, buddy. Just the wind playing tricks. Ghosts aren’t real, remember?”
Henry nodded, trying to believe him. They continued on, the streets becoming narrower and more cluttered with debris. They had to navigate around overturned trash cans, broken bicycles, and abandoned toys.
“Look, Daddy! A teddy bear!” Henry exclaimed, pointing to a sodden stuffed animal lying in a puddle.
“Leave it be, Henry. We can’t carry anything else right now,” his dad said, not slowing down.
Henry’s heart ached to rescue the bear, but he understood. They had to keep moving. They passed by a playground, its swings swaying eerily in the wind. Normally, Henry would have begged to stop and play, but something about the emptiness made it feel wrong. Like a place where children were no longer welcome.
“Daddy, why is nobody here?” he asked again, hoping for a different answer.
His dad sighed a weary sound. “People had to leave quickly, Henry. But we’ll be safe soon. Just a bit further.”
The further they walked, the more desolate the surroundings became. The shops were boarded up, the streets were littered with broken glass and discarded belongings. Henry noticed a bicycle lying on its side, its wheel still spinning as if someone had just left it.
“Daddy, did they forget their bike?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.
“Maybe, Henry. Sometimes people have to leave things behind when they’re in a hurry,” his dad explained, his eyes scanning the area constantly.
They rounded another corner, and Henry saw a large, looming building in the distance. It looked more like a fortress than a park, with tall fences and watchtowers. His dad’s grip on his hand tightened even more.
“Is that the park, Daddy?” Henry asked, a hint of doubt in his voice.
“Yes, buddy. That’s Kidcare. They have lots of fun things inside, I promise,” his dad assured him, though his voice wavered.
Henry’s steps faltered as they approached the gates. The building seemed cold and uninviting, not at all like the indoor park he had imagined. But he trusted his dad. He always knew what was best.
“Stay close to me, Henry. We’re almost there,” his dad said, pulling him along.
As they neared the entrance, they saw other children and adults, some carrying bags like them. There were guards at the gates, checking everyone who entered. Henry’s dad led him to one of the guards, who eyed them warily.
“Name?” the guard asked, his voice gruff.
“John and Henry Foster,” his dad replied, his tone firm.
The guard nodded and checked a list. “You’re on the list. Go on in. Stay together.”
Henry held tightly to his dad’s hand as they entered the building. The lobby was bustling with activity. People and guards were everywhere, some sitting on benches, others standing in lines at various machines. The atmosphere was chaotic, filled with the sounds of chatter, crying children, and the occasional barked order from a guard.
“Come on, Henry. Let’s find a place to sit,” his dad said, guiding him to an empty bench near one of the machines.
Henry climbed onto the bench, swinging his legs as he looked around. His dad knelt down in front of him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“Stay here for a bit, okay? I need to use that machine over there. I’ll be right back,” his dad said, pointing to a row of machines where other adults were lining up.
“Okay, Daddy,” Henry replied, clutching his small backpack.
His dad gave him a quick hug before hurrying over to the machines. Henry watched him for a moment, then opened his backpack. He pulled out his favorite stuffed animal, a well-worn fox named Reddy, and hugged it tightly. Next, he took out his favorite book, a colorful story about a brave little turtle, and opened it on his lap.
As he began to read, Henry’s surroundings faded into the background. The noise and confusion of the lobby became a distant hum as he immersed himself in the adventures of the little turtle. Reddy sat beside him, propped up against his leg, listening intently as Henry whispered the words aloud.
Time passed, and Henry lost himself in the story. Occasionally, he glanced up to see if his dad was coming back, but then he’d return to his book, the familiar tale providing comfort in the unfamiliar place.
After what felt like a long time, Henry’s dad returned, looking tired but relieved. He knelt in front of Henry, holding a small blue wristband.
“Look, Henry. I have something for you,” his dad said, slipping the wristband onto Henry’s wrist. It was snug but not too tight, and Henry examined it curiously.
The band was simple, made of soft flexible plastic. His full name, Henry Jackson Foster, was printed on it, as was a QR code and a number: 1-1302-4.
“What does the number mean, Daddy?” Henry asked, tilting his head to the side.
“I’m not sure, buddy,” his dad admitted, ruffling Henry’s hair. “But it’s important. You need to keep it on, okay?”
Henry nodded, still studying the wristband. “Okay, Daddy. I’ll keep it on.”
His dad smiled, even though he looked like he was gonna cry. He sat down beside Henry on the bench, wrapping an arm around him. For a moment, they just sat there together, taking comfort in each other’s presence amidst the chaos.
Henry leaned against his dad, feeling the warmth and safety of his embrace. Despite everything, as long as his dad was with him, he felt like everything would be alright. He closed his eyes and hugged Reddy closer, the wristband rubbing against his bag slightly.
“Daddy, will you read the turtle story to me?” Henry asked, looking up at his dad with hopeful eyes.
His dad smiled again, a genuine one this time. “Of course, Henry. Let’s read it together.”