Daimones by Massimo Marino - HTML preview

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Alone?

We're Alive

Back in the kitchen, Mary and Annah wanted to know about Joe and Beth. I did not go into any gruesome details. Not in front of Annah, anyway. Maybe later, if Mary and I had a brief moment of privacy during the day. I told them they passed away in their sleep and I covered them as best I could. "I don't think they suffered or realized anything."

Nothing more to do for our neighbors but bury them. Mary couldn't hold her tears. Then Annah asked the question dangling from the tip of Mary's tongue. She nodded at the box. "Is it Joe's?"

"Yes. He once showed it to me. I'm glad he did."

From Mary's expression, I believed she had guessed the content. She wiped her tears, and sounded tense and nervous when she asked, "What's in there, Dan?"

"A gun," I replied bluntly. No reason to lie.

"I don't want a gun in my house!" Mary crossed her arms.

With a calm voice, I managed to explain why I took Joe's pistol. "We probably have no reason to use firearms right now, or in the future, but I could not exclude the possibility." In case-just in case, I repeated-the need should arise, better to have a serious means of protection and dissuasion rather than trusting in our ability to reason with troublemakers.

"Think of estranged dogs," I added after a moment. "It will not take long before they turn wild and dangerous if they need to fend for themselves. And wild dogs do hunt in packs."

Mary didn't seem convinced so I rapidly changed the subject.

"Anyway, we should try to get in contact with someone, anyone. Did you call the emergency numbers again?"

Mary sighed. "I did. How's it possible no one is picking up?"

"I don't know. I can't be sure but what happened to Joe and Beth might be the same with the commuters on the expressway. Besides, I haven't seen anyone around, not a single person. I mean, alive. I can't. "

Annah stared at the window, and Mary shook her head. They seemed confused. I was confused, too.

"Mary, give me the phone, please." I thought about my parents who lived in Italy. "And try calling people on your cell. You, too, Annah. Call your friends."

I hoped all those deaths were somehow local, confined to a relatively small area even if wide by several miles. I still hadn't noticed or heard any incoming planes and, by then, quite a few should have reached the airport for landing in the morning. That, and the black smoke rising to the sky from that direction, played against my hope.

I dialed my parents' number. After what seemed to be the longest moment ever, I got a connection. The phone rang but no one answered. I glanced at Annah and Mary and I saw they too were not having any success with their own calls.

We tried all the numbers we had stored on our phones, both the fixed-line and the mobiles I even called professional acquaintances, anywhere, with no considerat<