Apocalypsis 03 - Exodus

”
    I continued the list. “…Candles, handguns, rifles, machine guns, bullets, knives, axes …” I turned back and looked at Brittney. “Was your dad a doomsday freak or what?”
    “He believed in being prepared. He always says, Luck is where opportunity meets preparation. And I plan for us to be very, very lucky .’” She laughed bitterly. “None of us came out on that end of the deal, I’m afraid.” She looked down at her baby but continued speaking to me. “So, do you want to know where the German boy is, or not? You can use any weapon in there you want on this thing. I don’t care. Just so long as you take it away from me when you’re done. I don’t even want to look at it.” She smiled absently as she toyed with the baby’s tiny fingers.
    I shook my head at the vision. Creepy level, ten out of ten. I reached deep inside me for the courage I needed to get this all over with, leaving Winky in the other room and sitting down on the cot next to Brittney. I was unable to stop my hand from reaching out to touch the baby’s little one. It was soft, covered with the finest fuzzy down, and the delicate skin gave with just the slightest pressure. I could feel its teeny bone structure beneath.
    “Why on earth would you ever want any harm to come to this little thing?” I asked. I’d never had the opportunity to hold a baby before, but I really wanted to now. Part of me was curious what it would be like, and another part of me was worried she was going to injure it.
    She frowned. “It’s not a baby. I told you that,” she said, sounding angry again.
    “It cries like one. It eats like one. It sure feels like one.”
    “Well it’s not .”
    “What is she using for diapers?” asked Winky from the other room. “There are no diapers in this place. It’s like … the only thing missing.”
    I frowned, sniffing the air near the baby. I didn’t smell anything but very dirty hair; and that was coming from Brittney, not the infant.
    “I use cloth diapers. The demon’s father found them. I wash them every day, every day, every day.” She smiled bitterly and then sighed. “Demons need diapers.” She squeezed the baby hard and it let out a pitiful, mewling cry.
    Her words and reaction chilled me. I held my hands out. “Can I hold him? Please?”
    She stuck her finger down by the baby’s mouth and removed it from her breast, handing the bundle over to me casually … carelessly, even. I juggled him uncomfortably for a couple of nerve-wracking seconds, trying to get a good grip on his wobbly form. He burped and smiled at me.
    “How old is he?” I asked, once I had him situated, finding it impossible not to grin at his goofy face. He looked up at me with chocolate-brown eyes that reminded me of Paci. I thrust the image of him immediately out of my mind. Concentrate. Get Bodo’s location and get the hell out of Cannerville. Nothing else matters. I said the words to myself, but this baby looked up at me and it was so innocent, so beautiful … I just knew I wasn’t going to be able to walk away, let alone kill it.
    “I don’t know how old it is.”
    “Well, that’s just ridiculous,” I said softly, smiling at the baby still, using softer tones so as not to frighten it. “You have to have a general idea.”
    Winky spoke up. “There was a girl here. A Native American girl named Celia. Did you know her?”
    Brittney shook her head. “I knew no one. I stayed here.”
    “You never looked out the window? Never looked down by the pool or the pool house?” pressed Winky, now standing in front of Brittney, hands on her hips.
    “Maybe. Sometimes.”
    “Did you see Celia? She had an arm taken off. Did you see that?”
    Winky was getting mad. I shot her warning looks that she ignored.
    “She’s our friend you know. And all those kids that were in that house? They’re at our house now. Being taken care of … fed. You could have done that, you know. You have all that food in there.”
    Brittney shook her head slowly, staring off into space again. “No. I couldn’t do anything. But I saw the girl. She climbed a tree. She was stronger than the others.”
    “How old was your baby when she climbed the tree?” I asked.
    Brittney shrugged. “A month? Two? Three? A hundred? Don’t ask me. Ask the demon’s father. He’s the time keeper. He’s the keeper of the children. He’s the keeper of me.”
    I couldn’t stop the shiver that spasmed through my body. I felt like it was her I should be