The Survivor Chronicles: Book 1, The Upheaval by Erica Stevens

had never taken the safety off of the gun. She’d been too afraid of it to do so.
     
    She glanced inside the case, spotting cans of assorted food. There were also boxes of cereal and other dry goods that wouldn't spoil quickly. She was impressed. She’d been planning on plunging outside, storming her way to the police station, and demanding someone help her find her daughter. She hadn’t even considered food.
     
    Al tossed the other case over his shoulder and gave her a brisk nod. “Are you ready Rita?”
     
    The woman glanced out the window again and nodded. Mary Ellen hadn’t taken the time notice just how young Rita was until now. She looked to be only in her early twenties, though Mary Ellen knew Rita’s husband was easily pushing fifty. She supposed this was what a trophy wife would be considered with her pretty features, blue eyes, and blonde hair. But the woman seemed to truly care for her husband as tears continued to streak down her face.
     
    “Are you sure Gary will go to the police station?”
     
    “I’m not sure about anything right now, but it makes sense that most people will go where there may be help.” Mary Ellen understood Al’s desire not to promise Rita anything, but she thought he could have sugarcoated it at least a little. More tears streaked the young woman’s face, and her lip began to tremble. “Perhaps I should take that back.”
     
    He retrieved the gun from Rita’s shaking hands and slid it into the bag strapped securely to his back. Rita clasped her hands before her and began to ring them nervously as she glanced back out the window. “Moogie was my only company. Gary works so much he’s never home.”
     
    Mary Ellen had been so immersed in her own lonely existence that she had forgotten there were others who were just as lonely and lost as her. She’d locked herself away and become so entrenched in her own misery and revenge that she’d forgotten there was a world of people who also required help, and company. It was a staggering realization and she vowed not to forget again.
     
    “Mary Ellen?”
     
    “I’m ready,” she gushed in response to Al’s questioning look. “I’m ready.”
     
    She stepped outside, cringing slightly at the smell of smoke that hung heavy in the air. She kept trying not to think of Rochelle, but the growing tension in her chest was telling her that she had to move quickly, that she had to find her daughter soon. Rochelle was strong and capable, but she was young, away from home, and she would be terrified. Mary Ellen refused to allow thoughts of Rochelle being injured – or even worse – enter her mind. She would go crazy if she did. She would breakdown; she would be unable to put one step in front of the other if she even allowed herself to think that her daughter was no longer a part of this world. She felt that she would know if something had happened to Rochelle, and right know she was absolutely certain that her daughter was alive, and that she would find her.
     
    Her arms began to ache from the weight of the food as Al led them through backyards toward the main road. She was aware of the fact that he had taken this root in order to avoid the wreckage of Larry’s vehicle, a fact that she was grateful for. She didn’t grieve for him, but she didn’t want to see his remains again either.
     
    Rita’s tears had dried; she seemed to have gotten a better handle on herself now that they were moving, now that they were focused upon a goal. It helped to ease Mary Ellen’s mind as well. They had a plan, the police would have more information, they would help them, and they would get her in touch with Rochelle somehow. She was certain of all of these things until they reached the main road and she took in the destruction that had been unleashed upon it.
     
    Even Al, who had been striding forward with determined confidence, hesitated. He quickly recovered as he turned on his heel toward the police station. He continued stalwartly onward