Chapter 20 #2
The back door opened into a cramped kitchen, cluttered with rusted tables and neglected cooking equipment.
A stack of rusted ovens sat precariously on top of one another, surrounded by discarded ladles and knives.
I closed my eyes and imagined the pristine stainless-steel kitchen this pizza shop once utilized.
Inside a small doorway, a chipped paint counter separated the entrance from the bright storefront beyond.
Two large windows overlooked the village square, and a chill went down my spine as I ducked behind the counter after catching a glimpse of the menacing Dogs outside.
Heart pounding, I crouched low and ran back to the kitchen with Jude.
“What do we do? How can we get into the church?” I asked. “We’re so close.”
A smug smirk stretched Jude’s lips as he pulled a worn cardboard box from behind the pick-up counter.
“I have an idea.” In the center of his palm, he held a vibrant bundle of sticks—purple, blue, yellow, and red—that oddly resembled dynamite.
“It’s a box of fireworks, I haven’t seen these in years! ”
I cocked an eyebrow and looked at a calendar on the wall.
Above the printed word ‘JULY,’ a small picture depicted a brown doe with her kin, all focused intently on the still blue lake behind them.
I completely forgot that businesses closed due to the brETH outbreak on a long-forgotten holiday—the Fourth of July.
A time when Americans would proudly display their flags and gather with friends and family to celebrate their nation.
I looked back at Jude and nodded. A realization came over me. “A distraction!”
We immediately got to work, the crackling of the firework wrappers adding to the crisp winter air as we angled them in the snow for a clear shot above the fences.
If the fireworks functioned correctly, they would launch a mile down the road with a booming crackle and whistle, enough to pique the Dogs’ interest.
I went to a stove in the kitchen and turned the knob, the metallic click echoing in the otherwise quiet room, as I waited to see if the pilot light would catch. Nothing but a tiny clicking sound reached my ears. There was no gas left. “How are we gonna light the fireworks?”
There was no response from Jude, only the quiet tinkling of glass hitting the tiled floor.
I ran to the doorway, my feet skidding to a halt on the smooth floor, just before I stumbled through.
Did the Dogs see Jude when he opened the door?
Was I walking into a room of Dogs? My hand instinctively went to the cold steel of the gun hanging at my side, the weight familiar and slightly unnerving as I shook my head, needing to banish these thoughts. Jude needed me.
I was relieved to find the next room’s windows undamaged and the pizza shop surprisingly Dog-free. Instead, Jude had his arm above his head with a dowel from the table. “Turn the light on.”
Next to the doorway, a dusty light switch beckoned, and I flipped it upward with a decisive click.
The broken lightbulb above Jude cast an eerie orange glow, the frayed wires humming with a low electrical buzz.
With a focused gaze, Jude carefully positioned the dowel near the wire.
The spark was bright and quick, setting the wood ablaze with a tiny, dancing flame.
Clasping his hand around the sputtering flame, he ran outside and began to light each string attached to the fireworks.
I ran outside after him and heard a hissing sound that grew louder as more and more began their countdown until the first shot into the air. More fireworks joined the first, and the air filled with the crackle and whoosh before exploding in a flurry of green, red, and blue sparks.
Heart pounding, I ran back to the kitchen, peering through the doorway to catch a glimpse of the square.
The Dogs’ ears perked up with each firework bang, their heads swiveling, and their noses twitching, as they strained to locate the source of the booming sounds and vibrant colors lighting up the sky.
Eyes glued to the dazzling display and ears ringing from the booming explosions, the Dogs leaped into action.
Their tails began wagging, and a series of menacing barks pierced the air.
It only took a few seconds before the village square was clear of the Dogs.
I could have hugged Jude. He was so smart for thinking of this distraction. He didn’t tell me we couldn’t do it. He found a way. He cared.
“I guess one thing will never change, even if they’re mechanical.” He laughed. “Dogs hate the sound of fireworks.”
I rolled my eyes, a playful gesture that couldn’t quite mask the wide, happy smile stretching across my face. Grabbing his hand, our fingers intertwined with each other. I was full. He was my person.
“Run.”
Together, we burst from the pizza shop’s front door and ran across the snowy town square, our boots crunching on the crisp snow. I wasn’t thinking of anything while running with Jude at my side. I felt invincible, like not even a Dog could take me down.
We raced up the worn stone steps to approach the imposing, dark wooden doors of the church. We placed both hands on the cold, damp left side and, with a synchronized heave, pushed hard. The heavy door creaked open ajar, revealing a sliver of darkness beyond.
Gasping for breath after our sprint, we slammed our bodies against the door, the wood groaning under the impact as we secured it against the approaching Dogs.
With our backs to the wooden door and the church spread before us, I breathed, “Let’s find out what’s going on in this town.”