by Logan Keys
Would German and Luckman be left behind? He was starting to think that they would. He wondered if he’d gotten turned around, or if hypothermia was setting in like the pilot.
At least if they got to the station, they could warn them about the drastic drop in temperatures happening back at Vostok. Then again, he wanted to talk to them about it on a scientific level as well and see what they thought. They were on the verge of a great discovery, which was sad because it had almost killed Luckman twice, but he still wanted to know more than anything how it ticked. Finding out the cold’s source? He supposed that was his Everest.
It felt like they were barely moving, most likely because they were. German signaled that he needed a short break, his chest rising and falling rapidly and his eyelashes crusted with snow. He’d pulled off his goggles that had fogged over, too. German seemed agitated and Luckman stopped, needing a break as well. They’d been going for at least a couple of hours. After Lucky sat, he took puffs on the inhaler, wondering again if his handy sense of direction was failing him. “It should be right over there somewhere,” Luckman called above the wind knowing it was snatching his words out of the air and that German couldn’t hear him.
He motioned in a direction and German nodded his head that he understood. But German looked limp and weary. He, too, was probably wondering if it was a hope beyond reality.
They sat like that in the wind for a good long while until Luckman wondered if it had been minutes since the break had started, or perhaps more. What if they stayed? Maybe someone would come looking for them? But Luckman knew that was a lie. A fever-driven lie. And so he shook off the madness and stood, afraid if they sat too long it would be the end. Even German’s positivity was being squashed under the freezing cold, but Luckman pulled down his jacket and forced words through his inflamed vocal chords. “Come on!” he shouted, trying one last time to seem like he was certain of where they were going.
But even if he wasn’t…fake it till you make it. That was how Luckman had gotten through college, it was how he’d gotten the girl he always had dreamed of, and it was how he’d gotten his job at Cybercorp, too; by smiling, gritting through the bull, and just plain faking it until everyone thought he knew what he was talking about. German had gotten him to throw himself from a plane with a chute that shouldn’t have worked.
If he could do that, he could do anything.
“Come on!” he shouted more forcefully, and he could picture the grin under German’s jacket as he helped the big Russian to his feet. The taller man patted him on the back and motioned as if to say, “Okay, lucky man, let’s see where you take us!”
Luckman started walking toward that ridge with renewed strength—the strength of pure stubbornness and the will to survive. He kept on until the goggles he wore clouded over, until he couldn’t feel his legs or hands or feet anymore, and until his face hurt and his eyes watered, forcing him to close them. And he kept on even as he fell, got up, and fell again.
He couldn’t see where he was going, so when German shouted, “Lights!” Luckman had to keep from tearing up.
Clearing his goggles, he saw German pointing into the distance. Luckman stopped at the top of a small clump of ice and pulled the top of his jacket down when he saw the glow for himself. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
“Woohoo!” German crowed, holding his hands up to the heavens. “You did it, you lucky bastard! You actually did it!”
They grabbed onto one another, jumping in the snow, exhilarated to be alive and to finally be somewhere other than nowhere. Luckman couldn’t help but whoop and holler along with German, and together they shouted out their fear, their joy, their pain, and their conquest. Luckman could barely believe his eyes. There it was, the Amundsen-Scott station in all its state-of-the-art glory, sitting two stories tall, with full power by the looks of it, meaning heat and lights and more.
Luckman zipped his coat and started jogging toward it, using the newfound energy of their arrival to push him down the hill to the station. He got going so fast he lost his footing and landed on his backside falling down the snowy bank. He laughed as he began to slide, like he was on a sled going down the hill faster and faster. He could hear German sliding right after him and they both picked up so much speed that when they hit the bottom of the newly collected snow, it sent a spray and made a loud “poof” of sound.
Instead of getting right up, they both rolled onto their sides laughing so hard that it hurt. And that was how the scientists of the Amundsen-Scott station found them both, making snow angels and laughing like lunatics.
“Where did you come from?” someone called.
German answered, his laughter even greater as people rushed outside to help them to their feet and inside. “Can’t you tell?” he cried. “We’ve come back from the dead!”
Chapter 12
One Year Earlier
Bob is weak from blood loss, but the bullet had gone straight through his side and the bleeding has slowed.
He had to spend precious minutes finding a store at such a late hour. He’d barred himself in the bathroom to pad himself on both sides and then wrapped ace bandages around himself—time that he should have spent racing home to get his family out of town and to safety, knowing full well that Cybercorp was going to go after him the same way they had with Brian.
Bob gets a cab to the house, but he stops down the block and creeps up to the window. Carry’s still up, working in the kitchen. He’d spent what felt like too much time telling Brian to get his own family out of the country as soon as possible, and now Bob was sure he had to do the same. Mexico, he thinks, Mexico is the only place that would work.
Bob pushes through Carry’s rosebushes, and is just about to knock on the window when she smiles, turns away from him, then laughs at something someone said in the dining room. Her face wasn’t the usual matter-of-fact look that a mother had while speaking to her children, or even grandchildren in their case. Besides, it’s Wednesday, and Wednesday is just for them: date night. No one would be visiting.
Carry grabs two cups from the cupboard and pours coffee. Bob knows it’s a guest because the mug she has for the other person is one of the nicer ones, not one of their favorites that had chipped slightly over the years. The one she carries to the dining room is one of the new blue mugs that is saved only for when someone unexpected visits.
Trying to keep as low as possible, Bob moves to the dining room windows, and then peeks up just enough to catch a glimpse of his partner sitting there, waiting for him. Al’s taking the coffee and sipping it after thanking Carry as if he hadn’t just shot her husband and almost killed him. Bob’s heart is thundering in his ears. He squats down in the dirt to go through his options but is left with only one. He feels like he’d be giving up everything, like his world is ending. The only safe thing for Carry is for him to walk away. Completely. To actually be dead or walk away. And she wouldn’t live very long knowing he’d died; they always said so. He feels that in his bones.
That woman is his soulmate and wife of thirty years and she would mourn him the rest of her life. It wouldn’t be long before that would probably kill her too. Same as if she died, he’d be a goner in five years’ time, easily.
Carry was a wise woman. Bob knows if he takes off, if he disappears, she’d know. Without a body she’d never believe he was really gone, and he’d be the exact same. Carry would guess something wasn’t right—she’d understand that if he could come home, he would.
Before Al could see him, he snuck off. For her, for the kids, for everyone’s safety, he would just go away. Al wouldn’t have a reason to hurt his family, but Bob knew without a doubt his partner would never forgive him for what he’d done. He’d see Bob as a traitor, even though Bob had his own grudge. His partner shot him and for what? To protect Reese and a company that was just a paycheck to Bob? But it was Al who would hunt him to the ends of the earth if he wasn’t a ghost, which is exactly what he plans to do.
When he got to the bus station, he used h
is last bit of cash for a ticket and then threw away his wallet, credit cards and anything that could be used to identify him. He trades his jacket with a bum who leapt at the chance, taking it in his hands like he’d won the jackpot. Bob would have to find someone to patch him up but he could hit up the Salvation Army for that once he got far enough away. He needed stitches at the very least.
After a long bus ride, Bob found a hat in the trash and he’d bugged out with nothing but a too-thin raggedy jacket and a good pair of shoes. With his head tucked low, he found himself in the middle of nowhere, which was good and safe for all involved.
Bob hitchhiked along the rural areas and slept under the stars, as it hadn’t become too cold yet. He’d later find out that Carry had reported him missing. She’d been sad in a picture on the front of the paper asking for any information on her missing husband, but Bob could see through the charade. She might be sad, but she knew he’d never just go “missing.” But the public—Cybercorp—would expect it of her if she didn’t know anything about his whereabouts.
Bob never stole, and he never lied, he just kept to himself. The only thing he did take was someone’s junk mail from a vacant home that was overflowing out of a mailbox and littering the street. He carefully printed another label at the library and forwarded the mail to his address. Inside of one envelope where they promised a scratcher, he placed one white dried lily petal.
Carry loved scratchers, and she’d open it thinking she might win something she didn’t need—more Tupperware or a trip to the Caribbean. But she’d see the petal and know that he was all right. Whenever he’d give her flowers, especially her favorite, lilies, she’d hang them upside down and dry them out to keep forever. They had dozens of them in the garage now all packed away, and Bob would almost threaten to throw them out.
He hoped she’d see the petal and smile, because it made him smile now.
Every couple of months Bob would send a flower to make sure Carry knew just how much he missed her and just how much he still loved his gal.
Chapter 13
The Leeward’s Residence
Base Housing, Fort Riley, Kansas
A thud rhythmically sounded.
“Benton,” Brittany said quietly. “Stop making noise.”
She turned over and fell face first onto the floor. “Benton? Lily?” she asked, remembering with alarm where she was. How long had it been? She checked her watch by holding it up to a crack of light that shone under the bottom of the door. They’d been in the reinforced room all night and it was now morning.
More pounding.
Brittany scrambled around and felt for the kids. They were warm, asleep, and nothing had gotten through to harm them. She took a deep breath of relief. They somehow survived and made it through the night. It was time for them to see what was left outside.
“Hello? Is anyone in there?”
“Yes!” Brittany yelled, realizing that the pounding she heard was people trying to get in. “We’re in here!”
The children woke up, and the door began to shake as something boomed against it. Brittany swiftly unlatched each of the door locks before finding one of them too ruined to turn. “It’s stuck. I can’t get it!” she called.
“Ma’am,” the man called. “Please back away. Stand clear!”
Then they rammed and rammed and the kids squealed with excitement as the door lock finally broke and the door fell aside. When it opened, letting in the light of a new day, it was so bright that it hurt their eyes.
The people were just shadows at first, and then both men and women soldiers filled the room. They looked to be National Guard, and they pulled Brittany and the children from the small room, helping them step over through the rubble.
Brittany gasped when she was finally outside. The house was gone. The roof was entirely missing and most of the walls had caved in as well. There was one side where the front door haphazardly stood, and they could see through where the wall had been on the left side. The back of the house was nothing but debris and acres of grass. Cluttered pieces of everything that belonged to the Leeward’s and Brittany were strewn across the back lawn in one smeared mess where one or more tornadoes had traveled.
“What…what?” Benton said, barely comprehending what he saw. “My dad’s going to be so mad.”
“We’re lucky to be alive,” Brittany said, but she too was at a loss for a bright side looking at the total destruction.
A man in uniform asked them if they were hurt. When they said no, he guided them through the piles of what was left of the house to the front yard and out to the street where other neighbors had gathered. Thankfully, most of them looked unharmed as well. There were only four or five houses that Brittany could see that looked untouched.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She’d lost service in the fortified room, and her mother was no doubt calling to make sure she was okay, but when she answered, a sharper voice surprised her instead. “Brittany,” Reese almost yelled. “For God’s sakes, are my children all right?”
“Yes. Yes. Reese. Everyone’s fine. They’re right here with me. The house is gone, but…”
“Thank God! Don’t worry about the house, just get them to me please! I’m begging you, bring me my children!”
“My car!” Brittany said seeing it for the first time since the storm. It was covered in debris and completely destroyed.
“Don’t worry about your car,” Reese said. “I’ll call the insurance company and have them handle all of that for you. I figured something like that might happen, so I already rented another car for you and the kids and they’re bringing it to the main road just a few blocks over. Can you make it?” She lowered her voice and cleared her throat. “Brittany, I need you to listen to me very carefully. The storms are going to get worse. More tornadoes are forecasted for that area, and the weather is only going to get more unpredictable. Take the car, I’ve upgraded it to a Jeep. Just bring yourselves to the Commissary on Main, a man should be looking for you there.”
How could she know that? Brittany’s heart was racing with the thought of more tornadoes. That part made her knees weak; she’d just survived the worst storm of her life, and here Reese was saying there was more to come? What about all of these people? Did they know this? But she realized no one would believe her even if she tried to tell them since she barely believed what had happened herself. “Yes, I think so, Reese. We can get there. Look, I have to go, Ms. Leeward. I, uh, have to go.”
The other line had been beeping non-stop while Brittany was on the call, and she knew it was her mother. Brittany answered the call and after her mother found out Brittany was okay she only complained about the housing having no actual storm shelters, and how Brittany should sue them, and on and on. Brittany held her phone away from her ear while telling the kids to get ready to leave.
Brittany didn’t tell her mother anything about driving across country. Instead she said, “Listen, Mama, the storms are going to get worse. Don’t ask how I know that, but get some things for you and the kids, and pack up the storm shelter for overnight stays, okay? I love you, gotta go, bye.” But her mother kept talking until she pressed the end call button.
Brittany pried open her car door and grabbed her purse and things from inside, glad that she’d left them in there instead of the house. “Benton, get Lily’s seat out, please.”
“Okay,” he said, undoing the straps and removing the booster seat to take with them.
They’d only been able to find their heavy jackets near the front door, and together she and the children started down the street away from the house. They passed ambulances and military personnel who rushed to and fro. Every few feet there were injured people and destruction.
Brittany had to keep the children moving, so she helped them step over fallen trees and weave far around any phone lines that were down. She hoisted Lily onto her hip to avoid the gushing water line that flooded the end of the street, but eventually they made it to Main Street which appeared to be pristine and untou
ched by the storm.
Brittany realized that she trusted Reese knew what she was talking about, and William had once joked that Reese helped to create the weather, after all. Brittany wouldn’t leave if she didn’t sense that the children’s mother was telling her the truth.
“Where are we going?” Benton asked.
Lily glanced up at Brittany with a pale face, gripping her teddy she’d found in what was left of their home.
“To your mom.”
“Momma?” Lily asked quietly, and Brittany nodded with a smile.
“Yippie!” Benton said, as if they were on an adventure.
After a while, Brittany said, “I’m not sure why I’m so calm about all of this.”
“You’re probably in shock,” Benton said in a matter-of-fact tone. “I think I am, too.” He sounded ages older, but it was no surprise as he’d just survived a tragedy.
After a few minutes, a red Jeep pulled over and parked by the side of the road. The man Reese had promised to arrive got out and waited in a peacoat, his gloved hands clasped in front.
“Brittany,” he said with a business-like tilt of his head. “A travel card is in the glove compartment, and Ms. Leeward asks that you use it to get you and the children some things for the trip.”
“Thank you.” Brittany wasn’t sure what else to say. “Do you need me to give you a ride back?” she asked, but there was already a car pulling up behind them to pick up the man.
When he left, Brittany fitted Lily’s seat in the back of the Jeep and put Lily into it, who immediately snuggled her teddy close to her cheek and planted her thumb in her mouth. Usually Brittany would remind her she’d stopped that, but she could tell the poor child was traumatized and exhausted from the restless night in the fortified room.
Brittany got into the driver’s seat and sighed. She opened the glove compartment and found the address in New York printed on the instructions for her travel card activation.
