“I watch rom-coms, and I read romance novels.”
“What the hell is a rom-com?”
“Romantic comedies.”
“I forgot you like that mess. Anyway, an EMP is an electromagnetic pulse. You know what that does?”
“I don’t know what an EMP is. So why would I know what it do?”
“You must have heard about it somewhere.”
“Just tell me.”
“Immersing yourself into forms of entertainment that has a combination of genres makes for a better learning experience and understanding.”
“Does your brain hurt from saying so many big words?”
“Very funny, Sis. Okay, look, an EMP creates a force that disables cars and phones that rely on electronics.”
“Is it permanent?”
“I think with this invasion, it is. I haven’t seen a working vehicle or anybody on a cell phone so far this morning.”
“Maybe, when we’re far away from Richmond, we could find a car.”
“We’d have to steal it.”
“Oh, I haven’t thought about that. That’s not a good idea.”
“Bicycles will be better. They don’t run on electronics or electricity.”
“The only bike store I know about is close to where we live. I forgot the name of the street, but I’m not going back.”
“No need to worry about that. I figure, if we stay on Brook Road we’ll see one eventually.”
“I think it’s funny, how with all your knowledge and preparations for an apocalypse, you don’t have a bike, and you’re days away from the bunker you and your friends built.”
“The aliens snuck up on me. My long-term plans were to buy a house close to Marienville and work in Pittsburgh. That way, I can get Mom and me to the bunker in no time.”
“And you would have left me down here in Richmond?”
“I was going to ask you to come with me when I’d gotten to the point I was moving out. Now, when it came to Allegheny Collective, I would have kept that from you. I knew you’d think I was wasting money and time.”
“You’re right. So now what do we do?”
“We walk until we find a bike shop but listen to me good. This trip is going to take a long time if we can’t find a car. Bicycles will cut the travel time short, but it’s still a lot of ground to cover. I need you mentally prepared. No matter what happens don’t give up, stick with me, and let’s not connect with people. We’re not trying to save the world. Just us. Okay?”
“What about Gabe?”
“He wasn’t on the list. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to get him in.”
“What list?”
“Allegheny Collective has a list of people who can enter the bunker. I paid our way and Mom’s way. That’s it. They won’t allow anyone else from the family, and let’s face it. Gabe is a friend.”
“I won’t go without him.”
“You may not have a choice. He could be dead.”
“Unacceptable and not true.”
“Kris, let’s say we make it to Ashburn, find your boy in one piece, and we make it all the way to Marienville. The only three people from this family the Allegheny Collective will allow into the bunker is you, me, and my mom. They will turn him away, and they will kill him if he tries to enter.”
“If they won’t let him in, I’m not going either. You’ll be allowing them to kill us both. Is that what you want?”
“What do you think?”
“I want you to try and get him in there. For me.”
“Okay, but say for instance, we find your boyfriend dead. What then?”
“Obviously, I’ll go with you to the bunker. I’m not stupid.”
Michael blows out in frustration. He doesn’t want to go to Ashburn. He doesn’t wish for Gabe to live in the bunker with us, but Michael has no choice if he wants me to be there.
“Are we doing this or what?” I ask, already knowing his final answer.
“I guess.”
C H A P T E R
5
We’re in a residential area. Colonial homes, ranches, and country cottages line the street. Manicured lawns are show-worthy. Elephant ears and ferns line the sidewalks and crowd the flowerbeds. Shade trees hang heavy of summer foliage. It could be a peaceful part of town, except for the distant sounds of destruction. I wonder if people are in their homes. They have to be, considering the aliens arrived early this morning. The windows are shut tight. Shades are closed. I’m willing to bet every door is locked as well.
We come across a couple of churches. They’re about a half mile apart. At each one, people congregate on the lawn. The last one we pass has the double doors wide open. Considering a lot of people gather on the grass, it’s very calm. Members of the church hand out bottles of water, blankets, kind words, and hope. A preacher is among them, consoling a troubled woman. Dust drifts from her hair. Tears stain her dirty face. She must have escaped the alien attacks.
By the time we reach the next intersection, the crowd has thinned out considerably. A lot of travelers stay behind at the churches. Perhaps, they believe they’ve found real refuge. I’m not so confident. There’s the possibility the aliens don’t know what churches are. They might not comprehend their importance. Religion, as a whole, could be a foreign concept to them. Michael and I aren’t willing to take the chance. Out in the open with high steeples and uncovered parking lots, the churches are targets along with everything else around it.
I feel a little better now there’s not a lot of people around, but I’m annoyed with how my day has turned out so far. Nothing is working out. My mind keeps replaying all the horrors from this morning. My stomach is mad and talking. I’m thirsty and hot. The gym bag is getting heavier by the second.
Without warning or brake lights, Michael stops in his tracks. I run into him.
“What is it?” I ask.
He points to the left. People are standing in a parking lot, but that doesn’t seem to be unusual. Then a glint of light catches my attention, and I hear low humming. Something is in the ground and spinning. A ball of some kind is above it. It’s the rod I saw this morning on TV, but there’s no way it can be the same one. The device reported in the news was on East Cary Street near an area known as City Center. We’re north of that location. Could it have moved, or is there more than one?
A young man with a cane shuffles close to it. The rod spins faster, making a high pitch whine. Michael called it an EMP device. Maybe, it’s something more.
“Something’s not right,” I tell my brother. “Let’s go. Please, we have to get away from it.”
Michael silently agrees. We go about a yard when we hear a crack of lightning and a loud heart-shattering boom. I duck behind the nearest stalled truck. Michael moves in beside me. People are running everywhere. Screams hit me to the bone, sending chills to my heart. When the crowd clears the area, I look over the hood. The scene is shocking, though I expected something terrible to happen. More than twenty people, including the man with the cane, are unconscious. Thin strings of smoke rise from their bodies.
A woman with short brunette hair runs back to one of the people on the ground. The woman she crouches over is on her side with her face in the gravel, and her arms are twisted in unnatural positions. Realizing the blonde is dead, the brunette screams in anguish. Sadness washes over me. Watching her brings me to tears.
Michael takes my arm, guiding us away. His last words ring in my head loud and clear. “We’re not out to save the world. Just us, okay?”
I want to help, but what can I do? I’m not a nurse, and I’m not a doctor. My profession doesn’t require I save lives. I’m an adjustment clerk for a credit card company in Richmond. I could never stomach open wounds. Seeing the carnage, hearing the grieving woman, it’s more than I can take.
How are we going to survive this? At any moment, we could die, and no amount of planning will prevent it. The aliens have better technology. They are stronger and smarter. It’s just a matter of time. Shivering
from this reality, I wipe my tears with the back of my hand.
“Are you okay?” Michael asks.
“This is the first time I’ve seen dead bodies. The guy that turned to dust was different. There wasn’t anything left behind, not that it makes his death less tragic, but this time, those people are right there. They were breathing, walking, looking, talking. And now, they’re gone.”
“Don’t let it get to you, Sis. Shake it off. Let it go.”
Easy for him to say. How do I escape the crippling anxiety? Carrying those deaths will eat at my soul.
I ask my brother, “Did you ever see anyone get killed in the Army?”
“Yes, I did.”
“How did you cope? And don’t say you’re some tough guy who could handle anything.”
“I accepted what couldn’t be changed.”
“How?”
“I didn’t dwell on it.”
“That’s going to be hard for me.”
“Their deaths weren’t your fault. Everyone over there chose to get close to that thing. Even if you told them to stay away beforehand, they wouldn’t have listened.”
“I just wish I never saw it.”
“You did. Now, don’t let it bother you.”
Covering my eyes, I sigh in frustration. Don’t let it bother me, he says. Yeah, okay, whatever. I’m not made of stone. I can’t reconcile in a second and boom my conscience is clear. This is going to be a long, hard day.
C H A P T E R
6
Three blocks from the EMP rod, there’s another problem. Looters are gutting a corner store, and an unruly mob is in the parking lot. People fight over everything, from one can of food to a basket full of stolen groceries. It’s total mass hysteria. Michael and I go through the parking lot across the street, altogether avoiding the crowd.
Once we’re clear, we look to the road ahead. No spaceships. No red lightning. No people. We pass a sign for Interstate 95. Brook Road has a bridge that goes over it. Stopping in the middle, I take a look down at the interstate to see if the cars are stalled. Every single vehicle is dead in the northbound lanes, and it’s the same for the southbound side. This is not a good sign. There has to be a working vehicle somewhere.
With one last look back at the crowd behind us, we continue onward at a quick pace. Natural splendor and blue skies replace parking lots, stores, and suburbia. At this moment, when everything seems normal, it’s hard to believe the spaceships are here.
“Michael, I’m hungry.”
He shifts his backpack to his side and digs into the main pouch. He tosses a clear plastic bag, an apple, and a bottle of water at me. Inside the bag is dried fruit and nuts.
“Steak and eggs out of the question,” I remark.
I bite into the apple. It tastes sweet and feels mushy. It’s hard to swallow with a dry throat. I can’t remember the last time I had an apple, not that steak and eggs are in my early morning diet. Usually, I sip coffee, snack on a donut or bagel from the breakroom at work. Those little indulgences, the simple things I do every day, I miss them already.
“Michael, what would you be doing right now?”
“Repossessing a Beamer in Providence Forge.”
“Is there anything else you used to do other than piss people off?”
“Yeah, I would tell them after I hooked up their car to have a good day.”
“You’re terrible.” I shake my head. I don’t know why I ask him anything. “So, did you work all those long hours for years to pay into the Allegheny Collective?”
“I took those jobs because it was my job. I’d already paid into the Collective.”
“How much did it cost?”
“Three hundred grand. One hundred per person.”
“Seriously? Where did you get that kind of money?”
“Grandpa Wise.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right. Your mom got his farm, and you got his money. How many of your Army friends gave to the Collective?”
“Eleven, plus an unnamed investor.”
“Thirteen members, including yourself, pooled at least a million dollars. Were you guys allowed to bring in however many family members you wanted?”
“Wives and children if they weren’t adults,” Michael answers. “In my case, since I didn’t have either, I chose you and my mom.”
“What if your friends had adult children they wanted to bring to the bunker? And those children had children too. Then what? They all get to be there?”
“Only immediate family. A line has to be drawn. As in my case, because I’m not married and have no kids, I’m only allowed two people of my choosing. There’s another soldier with the same deal.”
“Each head costs a hundred thousand dollars?”
“Yes.”
“So, let me get this straight. If a family of five - the soldier, spouse, and three kids – want to be in the collective, they would have to pay…”
“Five hundred large,” he answers.
“How can your Army friends afford to give that much money? Are they wealthy?”
“That’s where the unnamed investor comes in. He’s financed ninety percent into building and supplying the bunker.”
“Oh,” I reply with a nod. “How much in total? With the money from you, your friends, and the unnamed investor?”
“Why are you asking questions about money?”
“I’m part of it now. I think I deserve to know.”
“Okay, Kris, the Collective has half a billion dollars before the building of the bunker.”
“Forty-five people will be living in the caves?”
“At least.”
“Who’s in charge of the checkbook?”
“The investor.”
“Who is he? Or is it a she?”
“You’ll meet him when we get to the caves.”
“I accept the longstanding relationship with your Army buddies, but what I don’t get is how you know this investor. What has he done to gain the trust of you and your friends to make you so willingly give up practically millions of dollars on your part?”
“For someone who hasn’t given a penny or a single effort to the Collective, you’re questioning this guy as if he stole from you.”
“I’m not taking for granted that because he offers hope with his money, he’s going to give it.”
“Kris, let this go. Trust me. Okay?”
“What is his name?”
“Evander Colon.”
“Why does he sound familiar?”
“He’s rich. Probably heard about him on social media.”
“Was every penny you guys gave him accounted for?”
“Yes, Colon has been open with the books, keeping all of us informed on spending, investments, etc. Colon acquired the land with our money, and he provided what was needed to build up the caves to make them suitable to live in. He had connections and resources right at his fingertips. Without him, the bunker wouldn’t be possible.”
“You know, money can turn friends into enemies.”
“That’s not the case here.”
“If you say so.”
“Stop projecting what you perceive as a problem into something that’s not. You weren’t part of this project, and there’s no reason for your doubts.”
Knowing I’ve overstepped my boundaries, I let it go. Michael is upset, and I understand why. I question everything and everyone. I have to trust his word.
C H A P T E R
7
Michael uses silence to voice his anger. He can hold a grudge longer than necessary, and this is one of those moments. Back in Richmond, Michael would leave the apartment to cool down if I made him mad. He can’t get away from me now. Still, it’s an achingly long walk with him unwilling to speak. There were a couple of times I wanted to apologize, just so our conversations can make the time go by faster, but my skepticism cannot be shaken. The validity of his investment weighs on me as a con. The only way to convince me otherwise, I have to see the caves and how they’re set up.
/> We approach the corner of Brook Road and Wilkinson, where military vehicles are parked in an abandoned store parking lot. There aren’t any soldiers. Seems odd.
“Where’s the closest military base?” I ask Michael.
“Fort Lee is south of Richmond. Quantico might be the next base north of here. I’m not sure.”
“Where did these vehicles come from? And where are the soldiers?”
“I have no idea.”
We walk over to the vehicles and check inside for keys. The ignitions are empty, and there’s no ammunition or guns. A low humming sound comes from the woods on the other side of the abandoned store. It has to be another rod, but I don’t see it.
Michael and I move on. Another mile or so, we spot the soldiers. They’re going north, but they’re using the woods for cover.
“Something’s up,” Michael says.
Both of us stop, watching as the soldiers creep up the street.
“What now?” I ask.
Michael waves for me to follow him. He heads in the direction they’re going. The soldiers turn a corner, going out of sight. We pass a stretch of trees, eventually reaching a driveway to a parking lot with a major shopping center. The soldiers are behind the building. Looking up, I see where they’re going. On the far end are spaceships, and they’re firing at targets on the ground. Smoke and dirt bellow around them. Those guys are going to their deaths. They’re outgunned.
“Can we go?” I ask, nervously. “Please, Michael, I’m scared.”
Instead of going away from the shopping center, Michael stays on Brook Road, which runs parallel to it. Trees block our view every so often. I want to run, but Michael keeps us at a quick pace. Whenever we have an unhindered view of the spaceships, we check to make sure they’re not moving towards us.
Suddenly, several hissing sounds are coming from the shopping center parking lot. Smoke spews from several rockets, blazing at the spaceships. The alien targets appear to be hit. I feel the explosion in my bones. The energy knocks me on my back. Michael covers me with his large frame. I look over at the parking lot. There’s too much dust to tell if the alien ships are destroyed. Soon the cloud turns red. Lightning supercharges the hot air. The alien ships weren’t damaged. They still fly, and now getting ready for retaliation.
Dust to Dust: An Apocalyptic Thriller Page 3
