Page 49 of The Family Across the Street
41
Logan
He hears the sound of running feet. ‘Get back here!’ a harsh voice shouts, and then a woman screams and there is a gunshot. He knows it’s a gunshot. He’s heard gunshots before. People think it’s a single, contained sound but it has a slight tail of noise after the initial, shocking explosion.
He looks at the kitchen door that leads to the rest of the house and watches as two children burst through the doorway. When they see him, they freeze, only their small chests moving up and down as they become frightened statues. The little girl is clutching a stuffed monkey, its torn head lolling backwards, some of the stuffing leaking out. They are holding hands so tightly that he can see their fingers are white with the effort of it. He watches the little boy take in his appearance; his face grows pale and he swallows once, twice. A tear slips down his cheek, and Logan feels his heart break for the child.
He crouches down, wishing he was still wearing his long-sleeved shirt. The boy’s eyes dart all over his skin, taking in his tattoos, and there is not only fear written on his little face but defeat as well. He thought they were getting away. Now he thinks they are not.
He can see the girl’s eyes darting from arm to arm as well and he knows the fanged snake is visible at his neck.
Crouching down further, he makes himself smaller. He raises his finger to his lips. ‘Shhh,’ he says and the boy nods. He hates that they are scared of him. But he needs to get them out of here. How long until the man who shouted comes after them? Seconds slip away in the hot kitchen.
‘My name is Logan,’ he says, ‘and I’m here to help, okay?’ He tries to keep his voice soft and even.
The children regard him warily and then the little girl glances at her brother, her face full of love and trust, and Logan knows who it is he has to convince.
‘Is your name George?’ he asks.
The boy nods, his big green eyes filling up with tears that he can’t wipe away. He needs his hand to hold on to his sister. Logan can see that the other hand is bunched into a little fist. This kid means to protect his sister no matter what. He’s her brother and that’s what brothers do.
‘George, I’m here to help you and your mum. The police are coming. Gladys told me all about you. I want you and Sophie to go out of the kitchen door and run to Gladys. Do you think you can do that?’
‘We can do that, can’t we, George?’ stage-whispers the girl. She looks hopefully at her brother. He will be the one to make the decision. Logan wants to shout at them to run. How soon until the man with the gun comes? Time is a solid thing in the kitchen, his heartbeat racing the tick of the clock on the wall.
Standing up, Logan takes a step to the side, clearing a path for them. The little boy stares at him, unsure, untrusting.
Logan wonders what he could say to this kid to get him to move. He thinks about Mack’s son, Chris, who is seven, remembers walking up and down the aisles of Kmart with Debbie looking for a present for his birthday.
‘Anything to do with Captain America, Mack told me,’ Debbie said and then they found the costume, complete with shield. Chris loved it.
He takes a chance that Captain America is someone this kid knows about. He has to get them to move or he will have to lift them both bodily and take them out of the kitchen, but that will take too much time.
‘I bet Captain America couldn’t run as fast as you,’ says Logan, attempting to keep the desperation out of his voice.
George’s mouth opens, amazement on his face. Logan knows he’s said the right thing. He nods his head furiously and then the children glance at each other and they take off through the open back door, their receding footsteps the best thing he’s heard all day. Relief floods Logan’s body – if the kids are safe, that’s one good thing.
‘Keep going,’ shouts Logan, and he starts to run towards the room where the gunshot came from.
It only takes him a few steps through the dining room to get to the room at the back where the sound has come from.
And as he bursts in, he looks at what has happened, at who is there, and he knows that whatever you do in your life, you can never outrun karma. Karma never loses an address.
42
Gladys
Gladys hears the crack of sound that fills the air. It’s come from inside the house but that’s not possible because it sounds like a gunshot, an actual gunshot. She holds her hand over her mouth and she turns to look at the front door. It was a gunshot, she’s sure of it. ‘Oh God,’ she moans, ‘oh God, oh God.’
She should have called the police earlier. She feels like she might hyperventilate as she forces air in and out of her lungs. Someone is hurt and she could have prevented it.
And then she hears footsteps, and she sees George running, pulling Sophie along behind him. They come from the side of the house and they keep running through the open gate and then George launches himself at her, tears staining his face. Gladys nearly falls over but she puts her arms around the two trembling children and says the only thing she can say: ‘It’s all right, it’s okay.’ They are both damp with sweat, their hair limp in the heat and their cheeks red. They are dressed in their school uniforms because they were meant to leave for school, that was what was meant to happen.
‘It’s all right,’ she repeats, hoping that’s the truth.
They bury their faces in her stomach and they are both crying and trying to speak at the same time. She hears the words ‘he’ and ‘gun’, and Sophie says something about her stuffed monkey. Their small bodies shudder and Gladys feels a whole day of terror in the way they cling to her. She has no idea what’s happening inside the house. But she needs to get them away from here, they need to be somewhere safe.
Where is Katherine? Was that a gunshot? Who was shot?
