Free Crash by Michael Robertson

doing?"
    Looking at the young blonde girl, the baby of the family at seventeen, currently being led from the house by her ponytail, Chris said, "They have Daisy." He then added, "The whole family are out there."
    Chris was too slow to react, so all he could do was watch Michael run to the window at the bottom of the stairs to see what was happening to his babysitter. The little boy was just about small enough to remain hidden where he was, but if Chris followed him down, he'd definitely be seen. Staring at his boy in the hope of getting his attention, he soon gave up and looked outside again at their neighbors.
    Stood on the driveway and shivering were John, Mel, Sarah, Daisy, and all of the looters save George. The Gerrards had lost a lot of weight since Chris had last seen them, and they all had thick bags beneath their sunken eyes. Sarah, the eldest daughter, was nineteen and had filled out more than her skinny sister, stepping into the body of a woman over the last year or so. Chris would often watch her when she washed her car on the weekends and think thoughts a man over twice her age shouldn't. Despite the clear weight loss, she'd still managed to hold on to her curves, and when he saw the way the looters' eyes stood on stalks, it seemed he wasn't the only one to appreciate her maturing. Looking at the cage full of ravaged women and then back to the slathering men closing in around the girl like hyenas on a wounded zebra, he had to swallow to stop himself from crying. He could do nothing to prevent the gruesome images in his mind from showing him a slideshow of rape and torture.
    Running back up the stairs, his tiny feet making more noise than Chris was comfortable with, Michael pushed into his legs again and said, "They look really skinny, Dad. We should have given them some of our food when they asked for it."
    More concerned with the fact that his son was running wild, Chris bent down and firmly grabbed his shoulders, shaking him so hard that his head flopped as if his neck were made of string. "Michael, you need to listen to me. I've told you to stay in one place. Stop running around!"
    Michael looked at the floor.
    "Do you want us to get caught?"
    Michael didn't reply.
    With anger controlling his actions, he shook his boy again, his skinny neck unable to support his large head. "Well? Is that what you want?"
    Michael's voice was tiny when he uttered the syllable at the floor. "No."
    "Well, start listening to me. If any of them see us, then this is all over. Do you understand? We'll be dragged outside like Tommy and Frank."
    The little blonde boy started to cry.
    Realizing he'd said enough, Chris gulped against the sandy dryness in his oesophagus. It was like swallowing glass.
    Looking out of the window again, he addressed Michael's previous comment with a husky whisper. "You're right though, mate, I should have given them some food." Hugging his son with one arm, Chris felt the mistrust in Michael's tense body as he ever so slightly pulled away from him. Trying to ignore the reaction, Chris repeated, "We should have helped them."
    "I told you to, didn't I?"
    "You did, mate."
    Another cry from Daisy made Chris look outside, and Michael slipped away from him, running to his window downstairs again. Chris wanted to scream. What was wrong with the boy? Was he losing the plot? It was so unlike Michael to completely disregard what was being said to him. Accepting that he couldn't control him as much as he'd have liked, Chris looked outside again.
    Like Marie, Daisy didn't go easily as she was dragged to the truck. It took three men and a right hook to get her on the back of the pick-up with the other women. Mel and Sarah, having obviously seen what had happened to Frank, Marie, and Tommy, realized how pointless it was to fight. Throwing occasional glances at John, they started crying when they saw him forced to his knees into the same position Frank was in earlier. Although he didn't say anything, John stared at his