My town has its own Emergency Alert System. It has taken everything from me. [Part 2]

I moved back to Allister Valley after college and I've been here ever since. The Emergency Alert System has become more advanced in the last few years. The strange pink and yellow vertical stripes and droning alarm on the television are still in place. Now we also receive Amber Alert-style warnings on our cellphones. The Safety Board even installed a powerful air raid siren on the outside of the courthouse.

I'm in my forties now. My mother's health and mental state began to deteriorate rapidly after I moved back to town. The intent had always been to live with her for a few months while I got my feet on the ground and found my own place. When her dementia began to present itself we made the decision that I would stay with her rather than move her into a care facility.

Luck was largely on my side when I began to search for a job that would accommodate the time it took to care for my mother. A midsized publishing company out of New York hired me to work from home soon after college. The pay has never been astronomical but it allows me to work at my own pace and keep an eye on mom.

Over the years, as her dementia worsened it became more difficult to keep mom in the basement when the Emergency Alert System activates. Eventually, I was forced to invest a good deal of money in having our old storm cellar converted into a finished basement. It's a comfortable place for her and she spends most of her day down there reading.

It greatly simplified things for when the alarms sounded. She had become combative when I tried to corral her to the cellar before I converted it into a studio apartment. Now when the sirens sound she is already securely placed and goes about her day without a care.

When the alert would sound I would sit by the door leading out of her downstairs apartment. Before I would go down there to wait it out with her I always made sure the doors and windows were firmly locked. It gave me the illusion of safety but it didn't stop the voices I had started to hear outside the door.

Years ago, when I had first moved back to Allister Springs, the Emergency Alert System had sounded my first night in town. Mom was still pretty sharp back then. We had moved into the cellar and listened to the weather radio for information. A few moments into the warning I could hear something brushing against the metal doors.

"Chris?" A hushed voice said through the barrier. It sounded like Paige. "Chris… please let me in! I'm so scared!"

I began to cry immediately.

"Christopher!" The voice implored. "Please let me in! They are going to hurt me!"

My mother had walked behind me and placed a hand on my shoulder.

"It isn't her, my boy," She said in a soothing voice. "I know you hear Paige talking, but it isn't her. I hear your father's voice out there right now. He's telling me how much he misses us and to open the door. It gets easier."

That alarm lasted longer than usual. A voice that sounded hauntingly like Paige taunted me for nearly an hour. It said that if I would just open the door it would explain where she had been. I was the only one that could save her. It was my fault that she had vanished.

Through the years I grew used to the haunting voice. My sorrow turned to anger at the taunts. Where my mother had once comforted me through them, I now spent my time comforting her dementia riddled mind who was now confused by the calls of my father.

She forgot them quickly after the alerts but the grief and woe in her eyes broke my heart.

The amount of medication she is on the manage the worst of her symptoms is astonishing. Fortunately, the local pharmacy was accommodating in getting all of her medication refills lined up on the same day. The less time I had to spend out of the house at the pharmacy or the grocery store the better. Mom needs around-the-clock care now. It's wearing me thin but I can't stand the thought of her withering away in a nursing home.

When I pulled up to the pharmacy this afternoon the tech, Crissy, greeted me with a smile. She pulled the crinkly white bags off of the shelf and placed them in a brown paper bag. As she rang me up at the register she furrowed her brow.

"Sorry, Chris," the young lady said. "It looks like we only had four of the five medications in stock. The pharmacist transferred the one we didn't have over the Glendale so we could keep her fill dates lined up."

Frustrated, I looked down at my watch. I had stopped at the grocery store before the pharmacy. It had been an hour and a half since I left mom at home. The drive to and from Glendale would take at least thirty minutes if everything went smoothly.

Two hours couldn't hurt, could it?

"Thanks, Crissy," I said in as friendly a manner as I could. "I'll head that way. I appreciate it."

Crissy handed me the bag and I headed out the door. Settling in the driver's seat of my car I pulled out my phone and called mom. It went to her voicemail just as I expected. I sent a text message explaining I would be out longer. She rarely saw my text messages but I liked to do my best to get ahold of her when our routine changed.

After a moment of waiting for a call or response text, it became clear I wouldn't hear from her. Not wanting to waste any more time, I put the car in drive and headed in the direction of Glendale. My mind was washed in the anxiety of having to leave my mother at home alone for so long but my options were limited.

For a moment I considered calling our neighbor to keep an eye on her but that option had exhausted itself. The number of times that Ted and Helen had kept an eye on her had overwhelmed them over the years. Her temper when they would try to keep her in or near the house had worn them down. Abandoning the thought, I tossed my cellphone into the seat beside me.

The trip took longer than I anticipated. When I finally arrived at the pharmacy in Glendale it had taken over twenty-five minutes. The old road between our two towns was down to a single lane for resurfacing.

It had taken the pharmacist an additional ten minutes to fill the script. Their computer system looked as though it was cutting edge during the latter half of the Clinton administration and the transfer had only arrived a few moments before I walked in the door. I paid as quickly as I could and headed out to the car to get back on the road.

Looking at my cellphone I saw that my mother still hadn't called me back or returned my text message. The ocean of anxiety in my head was beginning to swell. It wasn't unusual for her to ignore her cellphone but it never ceased to fill me with an unhealthy level of existential dread.

My drive back to Allister Valley was more forgiving than the drive to Glendale. When I reached the one-lane portion of the road I had arrived just in time for the woman holding the stop sign to wave my line of traffic through. I waved a grateful hand in her direction and she returned it with a smile.

Small town friendliness can be a welcome thing.

By the time I was two blocks from my mother's house my cellphone began to squeal wildly in the passenger seat next to me. Initially, I thought it was my mother calling but my heart sank when I realized it was the Emergency Alert System. Slamming the gas pedal to the floor I sped home as quickly as I could.

I reached toward the radio and turned the volume nob up.

…from the Emergency Alert System of the Allister Valley Safety and Protection Board.

At this time, please seek shelter in a basement, storm shelter, or interior room of your house without windows.

This is a Level Five Watch. I repeat; This is a Level Five Watch. Three entities have been spotted on and around West Vine Street, Chippendale Court, and Broadway Avenue.

Remain indoors and away from windows until you receive an All Clear message from this channel. Only condition updates from the Allister Valley Safety and Protection Board serve as factual information.

This is a message from…

The message began to play in a loop over and over. West Vine was only two streets away from our house on Sullivan Street. Sweat was pouring down my forehead and stinging my eyes.

I punched the garage button from a block away and was thrilled to see it open when the front of our house came into view. Pulling the car into the garage I surveyed the scene but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. The garage door began to close behind me and I jumped out of the car to head to the door.

The groceries and medication would have to wait until after the warning. Milk and eggs could be replaced. I could not afford to wait any longer to get the cellar door secured and check on mom.

Racing through the house I did my usual check out the doors and windows. Every lock was bolted and every window was secured. My pulse began to lower and I could feel the anxiety drifting away as the safety of home soaked into my body.

As I began to step onto the stairs of the cellar I pulled the heavy metal doors shut behind me. Carefully, I slid the two bracer bars snuggly into place. My hand drifted to the wall beside me and my ears were filled with the familiar jingling of the padlock keys. After being reassured that the keys were securely in place I began to click all ten padlocks into their loops.

I turned and began to walk down the steps. My eyes wandered to the hooks that held the bolt cutter. It was always the last item on my mental checklist. If a padlock key ever went missing or one of the locks mechanism seized it was good to have a backup plan.

Dad had nearly perfected the art of our family lockdown during the sirens. Every time I entered this cellar to wait out the alarm I sent him a silent prayer of thanks. He had graciously taken most of the thought out of this process before he passed away.

Reaching the floor of the cellar apartment I was initially surprised to see my mother's recliner sitting empty. Her iPhone sat on the side table next to the chair, flashing and beeping with the Emergency Alert. My eyes darted around the room searching for her. Panic began to rise again until I noticed the bathroom door was shut.

I walked to the door and knocked lightly.

"Hey, mom," I said loudly. "Sorry that it took me so long. I had to drive to Glendale to get some of your medicine."

I waited for a moment but there was no response.

"Mom, are you in there?" I asked.

Silence.

I knocked and waited for a moment but still received no response. After another moment of waiting, I jiggled the door handle and found it unlocked. Pushing it open I looked inside. The light was off so I flicked the switch on. The bathroom was empty.

Storming around the cellar apartment I began to call my mother's name but received no reply. The area was small with only a sitting room, bedroom, and bathroom. It didn't take long to realize she wasn't down there.

My head began to swim. The garage door had been opened when I pulled into the driveway. Although I had punched the opener from a block away I had no idea if the signal reached that far away. She could have left through the garage and left the door open and I would never know.

I raced to the stairs and began to pull the keys from their pegs on the wall. Hours seemed to pass as I fumbled the keys into each lock. Generally, I would put them carefully back into their place on their loops but I dropped them to the stairs and listened as they tumbled to the ground below.

As I was about to step onto the main floor of the house above I heard the alert system beep three times to indicate an update.

Update! Update! Update!

This is a message from the Emergency Alert System of the Allister Valley Safety and Protection Board.

At this time please seek shelter in a basement, storm shelter, or interior room of your house without windows.

This is a Level Five Watch. I repeat; This is a Level Five Watch. Twelve entities are actively moving on West Vine Street, Chippendale Court, Broadway Avenue, Sullivan Street, Clays Mill Road, and La Grange Road.

The unusual amount of activity will extend the warning as a precaution. Please remain away from doors or windows.

Whatever was out there was on my street. My heart pounded. I had to find my mother.

I searched the house again. Although I had already checked all of the windows and door locks I had not performed an exhaustive search of the house. I had never needed to in the past. Now, I opened every door, searched in every closet, and checked behind every large piece of furniture but found no sign of her.

Cautiously, I opened the door leading into the garage and stepped down onto the concrete below. Scanning the room there was still no sign of her. I was preparing to head back into the house again when I heard a voice out in the street.

"I thought you had died," I heard my mother's voice say. "Christopher tells me that you died. But here you are! I've been waiting for you!"

Slowly, I crept to the garage door and looked out the window. My mother was standing in the center of the street in her house coat and slippers. Her hair was in disarray and she clutched a newspaper in her right hand.

In front of her stood my father, looking almost exactly the way I remembered before he died.

He wore the same pale blue jeans, short-sleeved button-up shirt, and white Nike sneakers he always had. His hair had turned an unearthly silver in comparison to the salt and pepper grey that I recalled. His mouth was cocked into the same amused smile that always seemed painted on to his face.

His eyes, though, were black. The sun was shining but there was no light reflecting off of them. It wasn't as much like looking into the darkness of a basement as it was staring into the empty void of space. No light obscured the darkness they held.

"I've missed you, my dear," I heard my father say as he held his hand out to my mother. "It's been so long but we need not be apart any longer."