Tonawanda

By Brian Durski

Tonawanda is an Iroquois Indian word that translates to swift waters. It is the second novel in the in the Oak Orchard Series.

Tommy is fifteen years old and alone. A mandatory evacuation of his small Western New York village disintegrates into complete chaos and he finds himself the only survivor. The only refuge he can find is a shallow cave in the deep Tonawanda Creek Gorge.

Ingenuity and intelligence are his only assets as he tries to survive. Salvation is west toward Buffalo. He has over twenty-five miles of hostile territory to cover until he can reach the city where the military is barely holding. Enter the Red Eye War with Tommy. The adventure has only started!

• Language: English
• Publisher: My Seashell Books - Michele L. Hinton
• Release date: Mar 13, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310323973

Brian Durski

I was born and raised in Akron, New York and have been happily married to my wife Catherine for 47 years. We have three children and eleven grandchildren. I am retired from the Air Force after twenty years and again from Civil Service after another eighteen. We have lived in different areas of the country from Hawaii to Virginia during the many years of government service. Writing is my hobby and Catherine’s assistance has been invaluable as my editor and advisor.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Tonawanda Creek’s water was inundated with topsoil and it ran muddy. A heavy downpour the previous night had pushed its swiftly moving flow high along the rocky banks.

Indian Falls was wide and many feet above the deep pool below. For thousands of years, the limestone rock under the cascade of water had been eroded. The result was a steep gorge lined with brush and large slabs of stone that had tumbled from the sides. Tall trees grew on the tops of the ravine and prevented direct sunlight from penetrating to the bottom during the majority of daylight hours.

Yesterday, he’d found a length of clear fishing line tangled on the rocks. A rust covered fishhook was still attached at the end. The boy followed the streambed’s course until he found a relatively quiet pool behind a large boulder. Tom fished from the rocks alongside.

Only a few more minutes until the sun would retreat behind the trees to the west. Either a fish bit, or he’d go hungry again tonight. He could feel a deep ache in his gut. It had been two days since a bird egg, or small creature had fallen into his grasp.

He felt a fish very gently nibble the worm on his hook. Tommy paused, barely breathing while he waited. He felt a tug from the fish at the end of the line attached to a stout willow branch that served as his makeshift pole.

The branch bent; the boy jerked it abruptly upward. The fish was hooked, and he dragged it onto the bank. It was a large sucker. That was what his dad had called the bottom feeders. Tom quickly picked up a rock and slammed it onto its head. The fish stopped thrashing after the third blow. He glanced to the west and realized it was too late in the day to light a fire. They’d be hunting soon and he couldn’t chance any smoke that might reveal his location.

The scales were so fine that they didn’t warrant removal. He was immediately rewarded with the rich taste of raw fish and sustaining fluids when his teeth penetrated the flesh. After just a few minutes, only bones, gristle and internal organs now remained on the rocks for scavengers. Tomorrow would be another struggle to survive. At least tonight, Tommy could sleep with his belly full.

Two weeks ago, the thought of eating a fish raw would have revolted him. Not anymore, the fish was certainly better then the grasshoppers he’d eaten a few days ago in an alfalfa field. His life had certainly changed. Adolescent fat had melted away almost magically. He was down to the last notch in the worn black belt that held up the ripped and ragged jeans around his waist.

A shallow cave on the side of the gray limestone gorge was his refuge and he felt secure within its rock lined depths. Tom crawled into it. The space was wider just inside the entrance and he sat looking out at Tonawanda’s rushing water below. He moved out into the light and sat on the side of the gorge with his legs hanging over the lip of the cave.

People had fled from the area or been taken weeks ago. No humans were left to enter his small domain. There was nothing to restrict his movements, except the deep fear generated by the terrible memory of the school parking lot. Mom, Dad, and his sisters were dead. He’d seen them taken. Animals that were things from a bad dream had killed them. Now, only he was left hiding in the deep ravine that Tonawanda Creek flowed through.

His father used to call it a creek. It was more than that. The volume of water pouring over the falls every few seconds was incredible. Tommy watched it stream into the air and cascade into a deep bluish green pool. The location of the falls was named by a sign the state had erected at the old concrete bridge spanning the swiftly flowing water. He’d been there several times with his family in the past. They’d eaten at the now burned restaurant that had overlooked Indian Falls.

The small crevice in the rocky side of the ravine had a thin seepage of water slowly dripping from inside it and down the limestone rock that comprised the side of the gorge.

He’d climbed up to look inside what seemed so long ago now. The rock was wet at the entrance. Once inside, he’d seen the limestone was hollowed out. Tom had collapsed inside and felt safe for the first time in hours. The recess into the rock saved him that day, a month ago, when he was running for his life. Now, it provided his only haven.

Tommy became bolder each day. He felt as if the things had either moved on, or somehow, intentionally avoided the gorge. He hadn’t seen any sign of them since the school parking lot.

It was impossible for him to avoid thinking about what happened.

No Big Deal

The initial reports from last year had been vague about what was taking place just twenty miles from his home. Something was going on near Oak Orchard Swamp. Small bits of information were reported only sporadically on the local news, but always reassuring to the people listening.

He’d heard his father say to his mother one evening after a small piece of news about Oak Orchard was reported during the evening news.

They’re holding most of it back from us, Nancy. I’m worried about what’s really going on. This is all happening only a few miles away and now they’ve cordoned off large sections near Medina, East Shelby and Albion. Nobody can get in, or out of there. Harry Butler’s brother is a sheriff in Orleans County. He told Harry about it and he gave me the details.

Should we leave now, Richard?

No, Harry said they got the army in there controlling everything. Supposedly, it’s no problem anymore. You know, that’s still pretty damn close.

Tommy had listened closely from the hallway and waited a few minutes before he entered the living room. He asked his father about it and his dad looked very serious. We may go on vacation early this year, Tom. If things continue to deteriorate with some problem north of us we’re going away for awhile. Don’t say anything to your sisters about this, but keep a close eye on them when they’re outside. His father smiled up at his tall son. Just to be sure, can you do that for me? Another few days and maybe we’ll just leave for a bit.

Everyday life quickly returned in the small community for almost a year. Incidents in the areas to the north were forgotten, or pushed away into the recesses of people’s minds. Most, including his parents, just didn’t want to think about their narrow little niche and personal comfort being disrupted.

It started again when several adults and high school juniors disappeared from the top of the hundred-foot high limestone escarpment that formed a semicircle around his village. They’d all been members of the school’s Science Club. A long awaited midnight vigil to see a meteor shower predicted for that night was supposed to be the culmination of the group’s activities that year.

Reporters and other people flooded into the quiet village the next morning. Numerous police and other official looking vehicles were parked on top of the escarpment near where the old town garbage dump once stood. Tommy and his dad walked there to see for themselves what was being reported on television as a mysterious disappearance of several people. They couldn’t get within a mile of the place. Cops motioned them back and his father seemed very concerned. They walked together to the small town’s center.

Several people were standing in groups up and down the small town’s Main Street talking. He followed his father into the Sporting Goods Store. It was very crowded and Tom saw the man behind the counter trying to wait on a long line of people as quickly as he could. Most of them were buying firearms or ammunition. Tom heard the owner say, Folks, that’s the last of them. I haven’t anymore weapons of any kind left, try McKinney’s on Route Five. He followed his father out of the store and they walked quickly toward home.

The Evacuation

Four days later, on a bright Saturday morning, the town fire whistle started to wail. He could hear it continuously in the distance for almost fifteen minutes. He turned to his father while they sat eating breakfast. Dad, that’s the longest I ever heard that whistle. It must be a big fire.

His father had a concerned look on his face. Yeah, I wonder what’s going on. Come on, let’s go outside and see if we can spot smoke. They stood on the front lawn.

Elderly John and Josephine Williamson came outside from the house next door. Richard, what’s going on? That whistle has been going off for almost twenty minutes.

John, I don’t know, you see any smoke?

No, I think maybe the Russians are attacking. Is that the air raid alert signal?

I don’t think so. Tom, please go turn on the TV and see if there’s an emergency broadcast, or anything on about this.

The boy ran inside and was almost to the large television when he heard a loud tinny sounding voice from outside. The loudspeaker blared from a state police car. It could be heard clearly even inside the house. He hurried back out the front door. Tom was followed closely by his mother and two little sisters.

Everyone report to the school immediately! This town is being evacuated, one suitcase per person! I repeat immediately! No private vehicles will be allowed to exit this town. Park all vehicles in the school lot. A convoy will leave in approximately four hours — exactly at eleven thirty. No pets can be brought along. Just one suitcase per person! FOUR HOURS! This is an emergency evacuation order, compliance is mandatory! Report to the school, or you will be left behind!

The police car slowly drove down the street while its loudspeaker announced the same message over and over. His father and mother took it seriously the first time they heard the order. His father told the children to hurry. Tommy started to sweat while he filled his suitcase with clothes and went to help his mother pack his two sister’s suitcases.

They all climbed quickly into the family van and Tom heard his father tell his mother. It’s my fault, Nancy. Damn, I waited too long.

His father parked the family van in the school parking lot. Other town residents pulled their sedans, trucks, or other vehicles into the gravel lined lot. They all hurried to get in a long line of civilians that stretched far down the sidewalk.

The order was explicit. Only one suitcase per person was all they were allowed. Roughly eight hundred of the town’s citizens had gathered and waited at the mandatory evacuation site. They all stood in the school’s parking lot and on the sidewalk as they’d been directed.

Tommy stared at the large red brick building that had always seemed such a secure place to him. A location he went to learn and where his time was structured by the bell. The ringing of that bell was something he and the others considered sacred. When it rang, you hurried to your next class. At noon it would signal time for lunch. Tom always enjoyed lunch period the most. He could sit with his friends and talk while they ate.

That morning he waited impatiently with his family while soldiers lined them up to board one of many yellow school buses parked all along the street. The large vehicles were going to take them to Buffalo that was far away from a threat which he didn’t understand. The move had been declared mandatory. Tom stood anxiously with the rest.

The small town was now totally blockaded. Hundreds of heavily armed soldiers in their green and brown camouflaged uniforms completely surrounded his school. Most of them weren’t much older than he was. He saw one that looked very haggard trying to get the many civilians organized in a line. Tom heard the young soldier say, Come on people, line up single file, hurry and get in line.

No private vehicles were now permitted in or out of town. Instead, they stated that everyone would be transported in one heavily guarded convoy to safety. It was a promise they all believed while they stood waiting. They trusted the authority and expertise of the soldiers.

His father asked the uniformed young man trying to organize the civilians. Why can’t we drive our own vehicles?

Tom heard the soldier. It’s no longer permitted to travel in civilian cars to Buffalo. The only secure way is a guarded convoy. He looked away for a long moment and turned back. Sir, we’ll hold and get you folks out. Please, be patient.

Tommy’s anxiety level increased when he glanced at his dad who had immediately smiled and winked at him. Hey, it’s going to be fine. These guys are armed to the teeth.

He smiled back and felt perspiration slowly drip from his forehead into his eyes. His mom was just in front of him and held his hand. She looked very apprehensive and shuffled her feet while she took a small step forward. He knew she was forcing herself to remain calm while she stood in line waiting with the rest. He felt the shaking of his mother’s hand held tightly in his. She was grasping it so hard. Tommy tried to reassure her at that moment. Mom, we’ll be fine. These soldiers have everything under control.

Why is it taking so long? We should have been on those buses a half-hour ago. She glanced at the bus door that was almost fifty feet ahead. We got to get on the bus!

He looked over her light blonde head. I think they’re taking names. They need records of people who board the buses.

That’s taking so long, Tommy. They could get the darn names when we get off. She turned to look at him.

He tried to smile bravely at her and squeezed her hand. Look at all those guns, we’re safe and the army is in charge here. She squeezed his hand back and turned away. His mother looked so pale and was glancing nervously all around her.

She looked behind Tommy and said, Mrs. Hanson, please get in front of me. I want Richard to be right behind me with our girls.

The old woman moved quickly in front of them. Tommy noticed the damp stains under her arms when the gray haired lady moved quickly ahead of his mother. The old woman turned back to his mother. Nancy, why are these soldiers making us go all the way to Buffalo? I don’t want to go there.

I think it’s to make sure we’re safe, Mrs. Hanson.

They tried to make me leave Buster. I told that young army boy to kiss my ass. He sure let me line up fast after that. I’m not leaving my cat.

Tommy frowned and wiped perspiration from his forehead while they waited. Finally, to his relief, the first civilian in line entered the bus. He was becoming even more anxious when the second person climbed very slowly aboard the school bus.

People who needed assistance were being loaded first. He saw two soldiers carry a man in a wheelchair up the stairs into the bus. Mom, we’ll be inside in a couple minutes. They’re boarding now.

Tommy, move your dad in front of us with the girls.

Sure, Mom. He motioned the girls to his side and his father moved just ahead of him in line.

Loudspeakers broadcasted instructions. Individual soldiers kept assuring them that they could return as soon as the situation stabilized. He watched his father’s face while the man tightly gripped Tom’s two little sisters by the hand.

Dad, what’s happening to us?

It’s just a precaution, that’s all. They’ll let us come home in a few days.

What precaution, I don’t understand this.

Something’s been happening... His father looked back toward the street at a loud sound. ...a few miles away. I should have made us leave earlier, but it’s okay now. Look at all these soldiers.

All of them heard it coming and watched the vehicle speed toward them. An unmuffled truck was approaching quickly. Cranky, Mr. Bower drove in and hit the brakes. Dust and gravel flew from the front and back tires. The old man got out and all of the civilians listened. Who the hell is in charge here? Bastards won’t let me out of town.

The old man was wearing overalls and a flannel shirt as usual. He had a shotgun in one hand and a suitcase in the other. Somebody better tell me quickly why I can’t drive my damn truck anywhere I want. This is the Goddamn USA of America! He spat a wad of chewing tobacco on the ground and raised the shotgun’s muzzle. You soldier boys had best back away from me.

A uniformed man yelled from a few feet away. No shotguns on the buses.

The old man moved his arm and pointed at the yellow vehicles. Tom saw he was very irritated. The soldier kept shaking his head no. Mr. Bower again spat on the ground and opened the door of his rusty brown pickup.

Dad, why can’t anyone bring guns on the buses?

Tom, don’t worry about that, look at the soldiers they have so many guns. We don’t have to be concerned.

Dad, I’m still worried.

Many of his friends from school were there with their families. Most looked very frightened, or had confused expressions on their faces. Tom saw three children and a few adults were crying in line. Sylvia was a high school senior that lived just a few houses away from his. She waved at him before he saw her wipe a tear from her eye and blow her nose into a damp tissue.

A tired looking soldier was coming down the line and finally taking names. Tom’s dad gave all theirs to the man. Other soldiers kept loading civilians on the large yellow vehicles. The boy detected the first distant sounds of sporadic gunfire. Several soldiers ran toward the back of the red brick school.

Tommy heard a man, with a single star on his shoulder, order, Form a defensive perimeter around the buses. We’ve got to hold them until the civilians can load and escape.

They no longer took any names, or tried to control people while they struggled to get on the buses. Tom glanced at his father. He saw his dad look north toward the back of the school and say, Nancy, get on the bus with the girls. Tom, help your mother, stay close to her, son.

The creatures ran on two legs across the football field and directly toward the school. They overwhelmed most of the brave men in uniform by sheer numbers. People were screaming and panicking while they pushed wildly toward the bus steps. In seconds, Tom saw hundreds more brown and gray mottled things come toward them from behind the school.

Everything seemed to be happening so quickly. Tommy looked back. Old Mr. Bower stood by his rusty truck a hundred yards away firing his pump action shotgun at the things that moved toward him. Several soldiers ran by him. The old man stood there, resolute and alone until, a hair covered creature running at him from his blind side took him to the ground. Mr. Bower managed to fire one more round that only kicked dirt up from the parking lot.

He was pushed hard from behind. There wasn’t a line any longer. A mass of people screamed and pushed relentlessly toward the three steps leading into the bright yellow bus. Tom lost his tenuous grip on his mother’s hand and tried to force his way back to her side. His father was pushed and tripped on the curb. He fell to the ground with Tommy’s two sisters in his arms.

The boy felt an irresistible surge from behind. Panicking people pushed toward the steps. Tom fell to the ground. Someone stepped on his hand, another man tripped on his ankle, oblivious, and uncaring about the boy being trampled by his feet. Panic and chaos were everywhere. Tom heard screams from all around him. People were squeezed against the side of the bus. They fought against their neighbors and friends. Salvation was the inside of the bus. All of them had one desperate goal, get into the school bus.

These were the same reassuring yellow vehicles that had once carried so many laughing, happy children, to this very building. More screams, some were abruptly cut off. The weak fell when the strongest overwhelmed them in panic.

Tom put his hands over his head and turned on his side. He saw Mr. Fellows, his gym teacher, try and help a little boy up from the ground. A man ran into him and tripped. A little girl fell and lost her mother’s hand. A heavy man, wearing a Buffalo Bills T-shirt, stepped directly on the child’s face. She lay there unmoving while the mother screamed for someone to help her.

Mrs. Hanson lay on the ground face up, desperately clutching her cat. Several people tripped over her. A man fell directly on her stomach. Tommy heard her gasp as the cat ran under the bus. He rolled under there also to get away from the people’s feet. He’d last seen his mother being crushed against the side of the bus.

He ran around the back of the vehicle behind the mob. His father was trying to get up. People were tripping over him and his sisters in their desperate struggle to push closer to the stairs. Tommy tried force his way toward them. The town’s residents were massed so tightly against the side of the yellow bus that he couldn’t find any gap.

He could see his sisters. Barb’s nose was bleeding and little Donna was screaming. Tom couldn’t budge any of the people. He pulled a gray haired man back from the mob and tried to squeeze through. The man clawed his face from behind and screamed obscenities at him.

Dad, hold on to them. Tommy pulled a young woman back by her neck and pushed his way past her. DAD, HOLD ON!!! he screamed.

People surged into his back and were squeezing him so tightly that he couldn’t even bend his neck to see his father. Tom dropped to his knees and forced a way through the legs in front of him. He crawled underneath the bus again to the other side.

Tom ran around the bus again and saw that people had surged closer to the stairs. Men pushed women aside and climbed over fallen children to get into the bus. He could see people looking out the windows of the bright yellow vehicle at him. Tom dragged a man off his sister. His father’s face looked so pale. His mouth had blood flowing from it and his eyes were closed. Barb was screaming and little Donna was lying there not moving at all. A desperate man stepped on her tiny leg.

The thing came from behind him and he moved just when it swung a claw recklessly at him. Tommy felt a sting when it grazed his cheek. The creature fell against the bus, overbalanced by the blow. It came at him now with jowls dripping saliva and claws stretched to rip him apart. Tommy could still hear gunshots from the north. Soldiers were still fighting on the school grounds and he waited terrified as it came at him.

There was nowhere to run, his family was there, and he waited shaking all over until it was almost within reach. Again, it swung the wicked claw. He stepped aside and grabbed it from behind. Tom tried to push it down and heard a loud snap. It lay limp in his arms and he dropped it to the ground. He couldn’t see his mom. The last he saw of her, she was being crushed against the bus.

He felt a violent push from behind when a man ran into his back, and Tom saw the side of the bus just before he hit it head on. He fell to his knees and someone ran into the side of his shoulder. The next inadvertent blow from a panicking woman knocked him to the asphalt.

Until the day he died, he would remember the horror of the creatures clawing and ripping people apart. The few remaining soldiers couldn’t fire anymore. The creatures were fully intermingled with the evacuees. Everyone was screaming and crying. He saw the things tear his two sisters from his father’s desperate grasp. Dad tried weakly to struggle with one and was bitten brutally in the throat.

His mother was being dragged away from the bus by one of them, and he heard her scream. RUN TOM, RUN NOW!!! He could hear them killing on the bus above him. They tore through people trapped there. Screams of agony and terror from above where he lay. The emergency door in the back of the bus flew open and a man fell out with one of them clinging to his back. It was biting him in the back of the head. The man was screaming and fell silent when the creature bit deep into the back of his neck.

Tommy rolled underneath the bus again to the far side. He ran behind the houses on the other side of the street opposite the school. The small town cemetery was just a half-mile ahead. He almost collapsed to his knees while he gripped the black marble of his grandparent’s headstone. He could still hear gunfire and screams from the school. Oh God, Grandpa, Grandma, please help me!

He half stumbled, completely out of breath, across the blacktop road again. He ran away from the cemetery toward the escarpment to the northeast. He had to get away from the massacre and the creatures he’d seen moments ago. Tom cried while he ran deep into a cornfield and realized the things might be anywhere. He stopped in panic and wiped flowing mucus from his nose with his shirtsleeve. He screamed when a large dog passed just ahead of him. Tommy ran as fast as his aching legs would allow. The corn was barely as tall as he was. Tom was horrified by the thought they might see him moving through the field.

He sat by the edge of the cornfield and cried. He’d run away and left his family. Oh God, I should have fought back, I ran away. He couldn’t hear any sounds from the direction of the school anymore. Tommy walked slowly away into the thick trees that lined the bottom of the rocky side of an escarpment.

CHAPTER 2

It had been a month and past the middle of June. Almost a month he’d hidden in the small cleft on the side of the gorge. He could see his ribs beneath the tanned flesh of his side. The cave was damp and only about twenty feet long until it narrowed tightly at the back. It was barely deep enough to keep him hidden.

Tom had almost given up two days ago when he’d stood on a high ledge that jutted out over the pool beneath the falls. He’d looked down and gripped a heavy limestone rock tightly in his hands. It’s deep enough.

All he had to do was jump and let the rock carry him far below. If he had the will and held onto it long enough he would pass out and drown. Go ahead, get it over with! Tom had taken a step to the very edge and his toes were over the end of the rock. A little more, just move an inch and you’ll fall. The boy felt tears in his eyes and leaned a bit forward. Mom, I’m so sorry, I should have saved you!

He let the rock fall to the pool below and backed up abruptly. Tom fell and lay on the limestone ledge crying. Oh God, I miss you all so much! Tears streamed from his eyes. He’d finally sat up and walked slowly back to the cave.

Tommy fed small bits of sticks onto smoldering ashes and blew gently until he got a flame. A tiny fire sprang from the hot ashes held within a ring of rocks. Flames revealed the framed picture of his family propped up against the rock wall and he looked at it again. His clothes stunk from smoke in the poorly ventilated cave. Still, the light comforted him and the heat mitigated the chill of the damp bare rock.

He’d known that it was a terrible risk to walk toward town two weeks ago, but he was determined to get as much as he could from the remnants of his former home. The large white structure with its green shutters was situated on the outskirts of the village. He could get to it without actually having to traverse the small community. The picture was one of the things he’d wanted to retrieve the most. He’d quickly filled an old canvas bag with as many food items and matches that he could find. The last thing he needed was additional clothes and started down the hallway to his room. Tom stopped walking when he heard a wailing howl in the distance. They’re close, he stood there for a few seconds before he turned and ran. Tears had filled his eyes and dripped freely when he’d hurried back to the cave.

Tommy pulled the branches and vines he’d woven into a screen back across the small entrance. He piled a few more sticks on the fire to dispel the dampness. The fire had to be completely out and smokeless before sundown. At night they hunted. The light from the small fire revealed his family in close detail. If he squinted at it closely he could see them all clearly in the dim firelight.

The photograph was less than six months old. He’d stood behind his seated mom and sisters with his tall father. They all were smiling in the picture for the photographer. His mom’s eyes were the same in the picture as he so vividly remembered, so light blue they looked almost translucent. His sisters had her eyes and her blonde hair. He looked more like his dad with darker blue eyes and sandy brown hair. He felt tears. If I live, in another year, or two I’ll be almost as tall as my dad. God, please protect them. He knew they were all dead. His entire family was gone and he realized he was the only survivor in a world filled with things he’d never even dreamed of in his worst nightmare.

Tommy had only seen the things once since that day at the school. Three days ago, two of the mottled gray and brown hair covered creatures were snarling over a small dead animal. They were on the far side of the gorge, just as the morning sun was rising in the east. He’d watched as they were quickly devouring the animal. The things ripped it apart and ate the flesh, fur, and entrails. Tom was horrified they were this close, but couldn’t tear his gaze away from them while they consumed the carcass.

Two of them were squatting on a large limestone slab just above the level of the creek. He’d realized the animal was being torn into large pieces. The creatures didn’t seem to chew the meat at all. They’d swallowed the chunks whole and snarled at each other while they consumed bloody flesh. The larger of the two had grabbed the last piece and barred his fangs at the other. They’d moved downstream as soon as every scrap of the unfortunate thing was consumed.

Tom didn’t want to think about it and vomited the contents of his stomach at the thought of his family being eaten like that. He hated those things so much. He lay there crying while he tried to think of something else. His sisters must have been torn apart along with his mother and father. God, I hate them, help me please. Nothing answered his plea and Tommy lay there thinking for hours. He stood up and went into the light of a new day.

Tommy sat high above Tonawanda Creek thinking about the day his family died and what he would do next. Birds were singing and he felt safe for the moment.

A revelation came to him at that instant. That morning, the silence in the gorge was almost palatable while they had been there. Normally, just before the sun came up birds would be welcoming the arrival of another day heralded by the sunrise to the east. As soon as they had moved downstream he’d heard birds singing and saw a small deer come of the brush to nibble at the tender stalks growing near the edge of the swiftly flowing creek. Everything hid just as he did, desperately trying to survive in a threatening environment when they were near. The birds are one of the keys. If they’re silent the creatures are close. The birds will tell me if it’s safe, thank you God.

He’d never hunted for sport or needlessly killed anything. Only his own survival forced Tommy to kill other creatures to sustain him. It was rare that he caught anything more than an occasional fish, or crayfish he found under rocks in the slower moving part of the stream. He didn’t eat the tiny bright red and black salamanders that also dwelt under the rocks. During his previous life, he remembered seeing on television that bright coloration meant poison if you ate it. It might not be true, but they were too small to bother eating anyway.

***

He said his prayers just as his mother had taught him and lay his head back on soft grass he’d collected two days ago and piled in the back of the cave. Sleep came rapidly and he fell into his reoccurring dream while he lay sleeping. Tom was in the schoolyard again. The horror of that morning permeated his dreams while he lay covered in perspiration. He woke abruptly and was completely disorientated for a long moment.

Tommy could see moonlight through the screen covering the entrance to his small limestone refuge. He rinsed the running sweat from his face from the small rivulet of spring water that continuously trickled from the back of his cave. He heard something outside and peered through a crack in the screen covering the entrance.

A full moon revealed two shadowy figures across the gorge. They were on all fours and seemed to be sniffing the ground. He watched closely and saw them pause at the edge of the water. One of them stepped very tentatively into the swiftly moving current and pulled back to the rocks immediately. So, they’re afraid of the water, he whispered. They’re following my scent from a day ago. I peed there and traveled that exact path. Both of the figures moved back downstream. Tom’s hands shook and he tried to slow his breathing. He sat very quietly while he waited to see if they returned. He shook his head sadly. From now on, I use the creek as my toilet, he whispered to himself.

He woke at sunrise still sitting by the screen with his back against the rock. It seemed only a moment since he was carefully watching the moon lit area across the gorge. Outside seemed safe, he could hear birds chirping loudly. When the things were near not a sound would be made by any living creature. He pulled the screen aside and moved into the sunlight. I’m looking at the bright blue sky, my baby sisters and my parents are gone, damn you all.

He had to do something and realized it would only be a matter of time until they followed his scent straight to the cave entrance. They can smell me! Oh my God, they’re like dogs on a rabbit’s trail. I’m the rabbit.

It can’t be more than six or seven miles. Tom walked to the small town through unattended fields and used the brush as concealment. The tall growth would shield him somewhat from being seen. Birds were still singing. He’d never listened that closely for a chirp or a bird’s call in his life.

The young boy moved slowly along a small stream through what had previously been a county park to the back of the town’s business section. Tommy slowly climbed the steep hill that separated the town from the creek and moved into an alleyway between deserted stores. It was so quiet and barely nine in the morning by his estimate. Nothing moved and he squatted there for at least ten minutes. He cautiously walked to the entrance of the alley.

The Sporting Goods Store lay across the asphalt street. Tom would have to cross Main Street to get into it. He hesitated again. Several sparrows landed on the sidewalk and began pecking in the cracks in the concrete. A pigeon landed on the roof of the store and he sprinted across the street.

It was broken completely off its hinges and Tom stepped over the door. He knew all the guns and ammunition had already been sold. Piles of broken and ripped open items were scattered everywhere. A stench was easily detectable from several broken jars in a scattered clump. He bent down and looked closely. One of them had the front label still intact and he read, Pete’s Preserved Bait. God almighty, they’ll eat anything! He glanced at the disarray on the floor and shook his head. No guns are left.

Tom walked carefully to the broken glass counter where the cash register had once stood. A large hunting knife was partially obscured by the shattered display case. He picked up a baseball bat and managed to pry the overturned counter up enough to pull the knife out.

Treble hooks and the other fishing gear were strewn among the broken glass behind the counter. He couldn’t locate any packets, or small plastic boxes of fish hooks. All that he could find was a scattering of treble hooks. Tom grabbed a large canvas sack from a display and picked up several treble hooks. They were comprised of three wicked barbs attached to an individual metal shaft. He studied one closely. They’ll have to do, maybe an inch long. Rolls of monofilament fishing line were in bins along one wall. He picked up two spools and dropped them in the sack with the hooks.

Fishing poles were all over the floor and he glanced at them. A willow branch works. I’m not carrying a fishing pole all that way back.

He had no gun, or any other means to protect himself except the newly obtained knife. Tommy hurried out the broken back door of the store. He hid behind one of the many new cars at a deserted dealership next door. He tried the door to the inside, but it was locked tightly. Sure, they wouldn’t bother to break this door down, there’s no meat in there. The car people must have locked it when we evacuated.

Tom looked into several vehicles and didn’t see a single key in any of the ignitions. I have no idea how to try and hot-wire a car. He tried to slow his breathing and listened for birds. No sound at all. It was so quiet now and a trickle of perspiration from under his arm rolled down his side. Tommy held his breath. Behind him he heard a snarl. Something fell and he heard breaking glass. One of them must have tripped over the rubble in the Sporting Goods Store.

He ran to the first house across the street and broke a front window with a garbage can lid. Tom climbed in the house through the shattered window. He realized immediately that they were following him and whispered, They’re like dogs that picked up a scent. He stood frozen in what was obviously a living room and looked at a big screen TV. The remote was lying on the coffee table and he stared at it for a short moment. Run you fool! Tom shook his head and saw a doorway.

Just beyond the living room was the kitchen and he hesitated as soon as he entered. The boy felt tears in his eyes. They’re following my smell! The rancid odor from an overturned refrigerator almost gagged him when he looked inside. Tom smashed a mayonnaise jar on the floor and found numerous spices in the cabinet above the pantry. The jars opened easily, he poured them across his sneakers and all over his clothes. After stepping into the splattered yellow and fungal encrusted mayonnaise on the floor, he ran out over the broken back door.

He could see the creatures enter the same window he had from where he hid across the street. Waiting for minutes, he almost panicked and ran. The entire house was visible and nothing exited the back door following him. They lost the stink of me.

Tommy moved south and pictured the grocery that stood in a very small shopping center. It was just a grocery and gas pumps, a drugstore and a small family run restaurant. He sat in an overgrown field. How many times had we gone there for the Friday Night Fish Fry? The store and restaurant was only about a mile from where he hid in the tall growth.

He felt tears in his eyes and thought about the five of them sitting and eating inside a booth in that restaurant.

Barb always tried to look so grown up while she ate. Donna could have cared less and would often pick her food up with her tiny fingers much to my mother’s dismay. I can almost hear her voice. Donna, use your fork, dear. We have to remember our manners sweetie.

He was beneath the bridge that was the primary access to the town from Route Five. Birds were chirping while he waded across the creek. Tommy cut across the backyards of empty and broken homes. The hay field he ran through would lead him to the small shopping center situated south of the small town’s center. It looked safe and he glanced at the sun that was almost overhead now. A Redwing Blackbird landed on a Milkweed pod nearby and he slightly relaxed while he moved again.

After a half-mile, he lay prone in an unharvested field and looked at the tiny shopping center. Now or never, he cautiously approached the grocery store with the canvas bag clenched tightly in his left hand.

The heavy glass of the double doors was shattered. Shards lay everywhere in and outside of the entrance. No large florescent lights lit the store anymore to display items inside. A putrid smell from just beyond