And Darkness Fell Read Free

a while.
She probably had been thinking clearly when she started but began failing as time
went on. The bottom section of the afghan, neat and uniform, did not match her
recent efforts. I guessed she’d remain in the rocker until she could no longer
function and die before anyone noticed.
One of the kerosene lamps lit up the wooden table in the center of the room.
A loaf of moldy bread and a few tins of sardines covered a small section of its
stained surface. Something had spilled recently. Flies feasted on it.
I saw no fruit on the table or on the kitchen counter. Reed would have to wait
a little longer for his fructose fix.
Stepping over hordes of busy roaches, I crossed the filthy linoleum floor and
opened the fridge. The pungent smell assaulted my nostrils. The food on the
shelves had already reached the beginning stages of putrefaction. The
temperature inside matched that of the kitchen. I should have realized by the dead
street lamps that this family had lost power. Finding food would become
increasingly difficult. The people who could still function would use coolers or
freezers, loading up with any ice they could find. Reed and I would have to be
content with canned stuff.
I slammed the fridge door, but the old woman didn’t flinch. She was either
deaf or would react to the sudden noise after I’d gone. Or, maybe she was just so
engrossed in her work she didn’t care. I took a few deep breaths to rid my lungs
of the foulness, but the air in the kitchen was only slightly better. I had to get out
of there shortly or I’d be sick.
Then I heard a soft noise and turned to it.
A little girl stared up at me, her large brown eyes glazed.
Small--just like Reed said .
About ten years old, she was dressed only in a stained pink tee shirt and filthy
white undershorts. She was also barefoot. Her greasy dark brown hair clung to
her forehead and cheeks. Her face was smudged with dirt, her nose glossy with
snot. She obviously hadn’t been near bathwater in a while. It figured. Their water
had also been shut off.
“Mind if I use your toilet?”
She slowly raised a bony arm and extended it toward the archway beyond the
cabinets.
Dodging more roaches and a mouse nibbling on something, I took a kerosene
lamp down the hall. Dirty clothes and food wrappers littered the carpet. The foul
odor followed me from the kitchen.
The bathroom was the first room on the left. I went in, closed the door, and
gagged at the stench. The toilet lid and seat were up, the basin brimming with
feces. Holding my breath, I depressed the flush handle. Nothing. I tried again.
Silence.
Idiot. No power or water. Do the math .
I dashed out of the room.
The little girl hadn’t moved. I didn’t want to leave her but had no choice. I
had nowhere to take her and wasn’t able to care for a kid. Reed wouldn’t want the
added responsibility, either.
“I’ll be leaving now.” Something tugged at my heart when I said it.
She watched me in eerie silence.
A black cowhide wallet sat on the counter in front of a scratched, red tin can
labeled COOKIES. I picked up the wallet and opened it, finding several credit
cards and some bills. The plastic wasn’t usable anymore, so I ignored them. I
found two twenties, three tens, and two ones. I took two tens then glanced at the
little girl and the old woman, who continued working on her afghan. This was
probably all the money they had.
Stealing from this family would haunt me. I’d always wonder if some of it
had been earmarked for milk—or maybe fresh underwear.
I put the money back and returned the wallet to its place on the counter. The
little girl still hadn’t moved. I waved and went back outside.
I’d originally wanted to search the place for firearms. If the two outside were
hunters, they might have guns lying around, possibly in one of the upstairs
rooms. But I couldn’t spend another moment in that house. The disgusting
situation had made me nauseous.
I rushed over to an overgrown hedge in the