Reality's Escape: a collection of short stories

Nightmare

This one is from Reedsy again. It's not my best writing, but I thought it was pretty good for a sprint hour before midnight! This was the prompt: Write a story in which the lines between awake and dreaming are blurred. Yes, Hallie_Blatz , you are in this one! It was actually mostly a real dream, just exaggerated. Let me know what you think in the comments!

     I lay on my right side with a knee pulled to my chest, my other leg stretched out across the bed. All of me is under a mound of blankets except the one foot, which is hanging off the edge and over the abyss. I'm too hot, but my foot is cold. I rotate. Then I try facedown, but I can't breathe.
     I end up lying flat on my back. My hair is splayed out across the pillow— the stuff that isn't plastered to my forehead, anyways. I stare at where the ceiling is supposed to be. My alarm clock shows only five minutes later than when I last checked.
     A distant popping noise comes from outside. We live close to a police college, so we hear them drilling often. Tonight, though, tires screeching joins in the noise. It sounds like they are having a very realistic scenario.
     The noises come closer. It's strange, they usually stick to the college grounds, but that just sounded like two cars chasing each other down our road. I get out of bed and peek out the curtains. Hallie and Alex are both peeking out too. We can't see anything. It's at the darkest point before dawn.
     Voices filter down the hallway from the dining room. We can hear the men discussing their strategies in low tones. There is diversion in the ranks: most of the men will follow their leaders when they are present, but when left to themselves, they have very different ideas. About how to treat hostages, for one thing. We are only holed up in this room when one of the commanders is present.
     Us three oldest look at one another and nod. The time has come. The children understand the whispered instructions we give them, putting on their sweaters, eating the last of the food we had been given. Alex opens the second window just as a soldier walks in.
     He counts us, accepts our explanation of needing fresh air in the stuffy room, and leaves.
     We cannot waste another moment. Now is the best time to go. Alex removes the screens from the windows. I take Tyler and Edward aside and explain to them, very seriously, what they are to do. Then Hallie helps them out onto the roof, then down to the ground. I turn to Savana, Philip, Emery, and Simon, and detail their instructions. They are old enough to spilt up and go alone, to create more confusion in the track we leave. Each kid climbs down the vines and lattice work of a different side of the house and takes off in a different direction.
     Alex, Hallie, and I go last. Each of us descends from patches of vine the kids didn't use. The children would only have so much energy, but we knew we could push ourselves, so we run our planned directions. Hallie headed to the grocery store, to lose her scent among the throngs there searching for remainders in the once full produce aisles. I'm pretty sure Alex visited a few public restrooms. I duck into a mall. There is a makeup store, right near the door, that used to be a pretty high end place. I help myself to a few of the broken containers, then run back to the house. Alex and Hallie both beat me and were climbing opposite windows to the room. By the time I get there, they had both exited and are on their way away again. Seriously, in order to catch us, those soldiers will have to have a lot of dogs or a lot of patience. I also enter one window and leave through another. It doesn't sound like anyone has discovered our absence yet.
     I am heading to our meeting place when I turn back. I just really, really, don't want them to catch us. I repeat the window exercise, but this time I notice something on the dresser in the room. It is a little book of ration cards. The name on the front is dressed to the same soldier who had check on us before. It wasn't here before. I smile and slip it into my pocket. He wants us to escape, and he wants us to make it, too.
     My pocket is weighed down with our combined phones. They aren't much use nowadays, but somehow they can still track us with them. I find a pickup with no driver and stash the phones in the bed under some odds and ends. Once the loyal soldiers think to track them, they will hopefully be far away and require some time. Now I take off in a sprint to our meeting place.
     Everyone is already assembled in the woods. The group is rather scattered, which is perfect. Philip and Alex stick to the trees as much as possible, swinging like apes from the branches. A month ago I would have laughed and rolled my eyes, but now to even smile doesn't cross my mind as an option. Too much is at stake.
     Tyler and Edward start complaining that their feet hurt. Hallie and I take them on our backs. Simon and the girls keep on plodding.
     We find a stream and walk in it until we get to town, then leave it one by one. Everyone stays on the forest side, but I venture into the streets. I find a window large enough to afford a reflection and take a bit of time to do my makeup with the slightly crusty products I stole— no, borrowed— and let my hair down, then go to collect my rations, claiming to be the soldier's wife.
     Then I pull my hood up, wiping the un-set paste from my face with my hoodie sleeve. I cuff my pants and cross the river to find the kids all perched inter own trees, trying to keep warm. I distribute the food.
     We walk through the day, but in the evening, we have to go into the nearest town. This is where the general lives: the one general who will listen to us. We can see his house, but then the roar of planes overhead announces warning. Bombs begin to drop. We scatter into the streets, but I have to get to the general. The car beside me explodes.
     I finally wake up, still sweaty, and go to the washroom. There are no soldiers down the hall, but I can still hear the gunshots outside. I lay back down, praying that God will never require me to be in such a situation.
     Balloons! Why didn't I think of this before? If we used enough helium balloons, we could float on the wind currents and get out of this nightmare. Problem solved!