STASIS: Part 3: Restart

by E. W. Osborne

  Julian was barely in control of his emotions let alone his expression. He opened his mouth to reply, not trusting or knowing what might come out. However he looked, it apparently evoked sympathy in his wretched boss.

  “Look. Parliament isn’t going to do anything for another couple days. Maybe we have a chance to stop this.”

  Julian nodded numbly, his mind whirring on other, far more important business.

  Kieran’s chair squeaked as he stood and rounded the desk. He placed a comforting hand on Julian’s shoulder and guided him to the door. “I understand you have family. If you’d like, I’ll allow you the day to make arrangements for them to leave the country.”

  The arrogance and condescension in the man’s voice made his stomach churn. The very idea that he was this magnanimous, gracious human being made him want to tear his throat out. It took every ounce of strength in his body to control his reaction.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  He gave him a pat on the back, misconstruing his terse reply for a tough resolve. “See you in the morning. I’ll do what I can from here.”

  Julian grabbed the doorway. “Sir? Who were you speaking to?”

  His boss was a little taken aback by the question, a crease forming between his eyebrows. “The Prime Minister. Why?”

  “No reason. Thank you, sir.”

  On the way back to his flat, Julian messaged his father again.

  They’re planning to close the borders. I’m going home. Prepare authentication steps for… hell. For the whole bloody government. We need to stop this from happening so quickly.

  Chapter Nineteen

  South Lake Tahoe, CA

  Nothing was open on their side of the lake. The small town at the bottom of the hill was desolate, so she was forced to search further. As the car rolled through the empty streets of Truckee, she was beginning to lose hope that she’d find supplies on the California side at all. Penelope checked the charge remaining on the car and wondered if she’d have enough to get to Reno and back, if it came to that.

  “Shit,” she muttered. She didn’t want to chance a trip out there only to get stuck, so she directed the car into a parking lot. The heat pouring off the tarmac hit her like an open oven as she climbed out. She unraveled the charging cord and plugged it into the car. The old-fashioned charging stand didn’t chirp in response to the connection, nor did any indicator light pop on, but she left the car plugged in just in case there was a trickle of power still coming through.

  Penelope had only been to Truckee a few times when she and Joey had decided to take another route to the family cabin. It was a cute town and quiet on the best of days. The architecture still looked like the set of an old Western movie, with the flat, rectangular building fronts and central main street. She had to give the car at least a half an hour to get any sort of charge, so she decided to search for the supplies just in case.

  The town wasn’t deserted but it wasn’t exactly bustling either. When the wind blew just right, the scent of rotting and death assaulted her senses. People were seen at a distance, walking quickly between their destinations. She figured it was her own wild imagination, but there was an almost electric sensation in the air, a buzz that she could feel deep in her bones.

  After wandering the empty streets for a few minutes, she came across a solitary open store. The market was tucked in the corner of an open-air plaza. A small but steady stream of people rushed in and out, carrying their belongings in their arms. No one seemed willing to risk running out the charge on their cars, just in case. The rest of the stores in the plaza had broken windows, torn off doors, and empty shelves. This seemed to be one of the few places untouched by looters.

  The tension in the air felt thicker as she approached. With beads of sweat running down her neck, soaking the collar of her shirt, at the very least, she wanted to get out of the sun for a few minutes.

  She pushed the door open and was blasted with a rush of cold air. She stopped mid-stride and took a deep, cleansing breath. The air conditioning was the most incredible sensation.

  “Hey! Close the door!”

  The shout shook her awake. A flat hand at her shoulder moved her forward. Only then did she notice the two armed guards standing just inside the doorway.

  “Sorry,” she said to one of the staff glaring at her from behind the register. She spotted at least five behind the counter, while yet another was making trips to the stock room.

  With the sweat cooling on her neck, she slowly wandered up and down the barren aisles. It felt like a dream. Somehow, even with the relatively slow descent into madness, she hadn’t adjusted to the idea of the world changing so drastically. She kept expecting to wake up, snap out of it, to find shelves filled with food. At night, as she lay on the floor beside what remained of her husband, she even welcomed the idea of psychosis.

  I would rather have lost my mind than for all this to be real…

  “What am I gonna do with that?”

  “I dunno. That’s up to you to decide. Do you want it or not?”

  Penelope rounded the end of the aisle and stole a glance up to the counter. An older man in a weathered cowboy hat leaned against the counter. She couldn’t see what they were haggling over, but judging by the body language of the store owner, they were getting nowhere fast. The owner shook his head with mock sympathy. He leaned forward and said something in a low tone. The old man exploded.

  “What you’re doing is robbery. Goddamn immoral, if you ask me!”

  The owner shrugged and crossed his arms. “You’re welcome to shop elsewhere.”

  “There ain’t nowhere else and you know it! I had to walk two miles to get here and—”

  “I’ll take that belt buckle.” The owner’s jowls shook as he nodded to the old man’s waist.

  Penelope was entranced by the conversation, like she was in the audience at a theatrical show. She plucked a package of diapers off the shelf as a sort of cover, and pretended to read the back as she inched toward the front of the store.

  The old man shook his head. He pulled off his hat and rested it on the counter, smoothing his thin hair back with the other hand. “Listen. We gotta look out for each other, now more than ever. My wife, well. She has a real bad back and we’re almost out of her medication. Her doctor is all the way in Sacramento and—”

  A thin woman with a pinched face and dark hair laughed. “You can save us the sob story.”

  “But forty dollars for a bottle of aspirin! I can’t afford that.”

  “Then I guess you better come up with another solution,” the woman sneered.

  Penelope was only a few feet away from the counter when the owner noticed her. The old man began picking through the meager cluster of items he wanted to buy, prioritizing, muttering under his breath.

  “I can get it for you,” she said, her eyes stuck to the owner and his unpleasant wife.

  The cowboy turned, already shaking his head. “I can’t let you do that ma’am, though I appreciate it.”

  “I insist,” she replied, already sifting through her bag to find the money.

  “Ma’am, I thank you, I really do.” His weathered face twisted and tightened as he continued. “But I wouldn’t be able to rest tonight knowing these thieves got away with their scam.”

  The woman behind the counter snorted. “And your wife won’t get any rest either, carrying your sorry ass on her broken back.”

  Penelope touched his wrist, turned his hand, and placed two folded twenties in his palm. “It’s not going to get any cheaper. Please, for your wife.”

  He chewed a bit on his morals before giving her a curt nod. “Thank you.” The rest of the transaction was performed without another word, which suited Penelope. If the snotty woman said one more word, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to control herself. He paid, gave her another heartfelt thank you, and left.

  She couldn’t believe what the world was turning into… and worse yet, was what it was doing to her. A piece of her humanity shriveled as she w
atched the old guy turn back to the store, arms empty but for one bottle of aspirin, expression filled with anger and fear. The two armed guards stepped in front of the doors, shielding even the idea he might come back in. She took comfort knowing she’d at least helped a little.

  The rat-faced woman nodded to her, eyes falling to the package of diapers. “You all set there?”

  “No,” Penelope whispered.

  The kind gesture cost her nearly everything she’d brought. As she returned the diapers to the shelf, she realized there wasn’t enough left for the medical supplies they so desperately needed. Knowing it almost pointless trying, she grabbed everything on the list in the hopes she could haggle.

  After five minutes of going back and forth and not getting anywhere, she was on the verge of giving up completely. She’d already shown her weakness by helping out the stranger. Now the owners knew she was a soft touch.

  “We’re not a charity,” the husband said, yawning for effect. “What we have here is a fluctuating market.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing,” his wife cut in. “You can’t pay, you leave.” She nodded to one of the guards and Penelope panicked.

  “Okay, okay,” she said, holding up a hand to stop him. “What about trade? Would you trade?”

  “Depends,” the woman replied, looking down her nose. “What you got?”

  She wasn’t the best at bargaining, but she knew better than to be the first to crack. With both hands, she gently gathered everything on the counter into a tighter pile. “Keep these behind the counter for me until tonight. I’ll be back and we’ll see if we can’t come to an agreement.”

  The two owners conferred wordlessly, their eyes doing all the talking. Finally, the man nodded, his jowls shaking. “You have four hours before you surrender it.”

  As Penelope watched him collect everything and dump it into a bag, she shot her hand out and grabbed the sweating bottle of Coke. “Except this.”

  “Ten dollars,” the woman sneered.

  She sputtered despite knowing it was useless. “Are you kidding me right now?”

  “Wanna make it fifteen?”

  It was a stupid waste of money, but she’d had her heart set on bringing something normal back to the house. Biting back every nasty name she could think of, she set the money on the counter and walked out.

  Penelope was still trembling with anger when she returned to the car. Like she was running on autopilot, she unclipped the charger from the plug and climbed inside, barely noting that the station was still operational. The car had a full charge.

  She was already plotting how they’d get the necessary supplies, breaking into houses, maybe robbing the general store. She stared at her hands, wondering how the same hands could exist in both worlds. In one world, she held her child, her husband’s hand, the hands of her patients. In this world, they were capable of murder and theft.

  Her cuff buzzed with an incoming call. She nearly silenced it without looking, unable to face another conversation with Joey’s parents. She’d danced around the truth for so long they were becoming suspicious. Alone, without the strength of Cameron, she didn’t think she’d be able to get through another call.

  The number was unfamiliar. Her finger hovered over the answer button. The chances of it being a wrong number were slim. Instinct and an overactive imagination kicked in. She decided it was better to know than to wonder. She accepted the call but remained silent, choosing to let the other end speak first.

  “Hello?”

  Penelope didn’t recognize the voice and bit her tongue.

  “Is this working… hello? Can you hear me?” There was a light shuffling on the other side like the woman was adjusting her settings. “Please, let this work…”

  The desperation in her voice was heartbreaking. “I’m here,” Penelope said, hoping at least to tell her she had the wrong number. There wasn’t a lot of kindness in the world anymore. Help a stranger, buy a cold drink. At least she could do this much. It didn’t offset the bad, but it helped.

  “Yes! Hello? Is this Penelope Steele?”

  She rocked back in her seat, the car bouncing on its shocks. She flicked the call to the speaker system and lowered her wrist. “How did you…”

  “I don’t have a lot of time,” the woman replied in one rushed breath. “I… Jesus, where do I start? I’m—I got your number from Christopher.”

  Penelope sat straight up at the mention of her brother’s name. “Is he okay? Is he safe?”

  “He’s fine. Sorry, I should’ve probably led with that. I’m his girlfriend. Well, fiancée. I’m still not used to saying that.” The car filled with her nervous laughter.

  “How can I help you…?” Her formal, rigid tone sounded uncaring, but really it was more from a place of numbness. Just when she thought the world couldn’t throw another curveball at her, another came swooping in lightning fast.

  “Sorry. My name is Kristine. I’m screwing this whole thing up already and it’s not like we have all the time in the world to sit and chat…”

  Penelope smiled despite the tension. Christopher’s girlfriend sounded sweet even through her nervous chatter. “Kristine, if Chris is fine, why did you call?”

  The woman took a long pause. When she spoke next, it came out in one big rush. “I have reason to believe your brothers are involved in the… well, in the attacks. The violence.”

  Her skin tingled, a prickly sensation traveling up the nape of her neck. “My brothers? Both of them?”

  Her explanation came out in a jumbled rush. “Christopher has been lying to me, apparently for our entire relationship. I didn’t realize he was a Steele, Steele. He dropped the ‘e’ on the end, so it wasn’t even clever. And then I only just found out he’s been working with your other brother, Jamie, upstate and—”

  “He’s been…” Penelope cradled her forehead in her hand. Kristine seemed to be growing more confident as the conversation continued on, while she felt as though the ground were melting away from under her feet.

  “That’s why I called. I only have a minute before he gets back, but… I need your help.”

  Her tongue felt dry and entirely too big for her mouth. For a moment, she was afraid when she spoke, only jibberish might come out. “With what?”

  “Anything. Everything.” Her voice drew closer to the microphone, more serious and somber. “I need help stopping them.”

  That dream-like sensation clouded her thoughts. The world felt fuzzy, blurred at the edges. She gazed out of the window toward the direction of the corner store where lawlessness was running strong. How would the world even bounce back from this? Were things forever changed already?

  “I have to go. He’s out getting me food for the next couple days while he’s gone.”

  “He’s leaving you alone?” For some reason, her brain hooked on that detail stronger than the claim her family actually was behind these attacks. Her little brother could never be the type who would leave a woman on her own in the city in the middle of this.

  “He and Jamie are apparently going upstate to get the house ready,” Kristine said with disgust. “They’ll send a car for me when it’s safe. I’m keeping the peace and not questioning anything.”

  “Probably for the best if Jamie’s involved.”

  Kristine chuckled dryly. “You have no idea. Anyway, I wanted to test that he gave me your real number. If you want, I can call you again when he’s gone and we can talk?”

  “That’d be nice,” Penelope replied. It sounded so conversational, like they were two girlfriends arranging a coffee date. “Sorry, that came out strange. It’s been a weird couple weeks for me…”

  “You and me both. I’ll call you in a bit.”

  Returning to the house, Penelope felt like a different person from the one who left in search of supplies. But as the car wound its way through the switchbacks on the road, past the empty houses they should probably pick through, she realized that was her new reality. A calm, safe life was one that
rarely changed. It was beautiful and simple in its predictability. After all, that’s what centuries of human striving tried to achieve. A life where you didn’t have to witness your friends and family dying by horrible diseases. An existence where every creature comfort was available and cheap.

  A cocoon of artificial safety wrapped her as she walked through the front door. Wesley had worked tirelessly to repair the equipment. The old man stood hunched over a machine that looked strangely like a deconstructed microwave. With Joey and his mother moved to one of the back bedrooms, they had more space to spread out.

  Cameron sat in the corner, an open book on his lap. He never sat correctly in chairs, always hanging and lounging over the side. His leg dangled over the arm, the other ankle crossed at his knee. He glanced up at the sound of the door and closed the book.

  “How’d it go?”

  Penelope gave a little half-shrug and held up the small bag she’d returned with. “I’ll explain, but I wanted to give Trevor something first.”

  Cameron’s face tightened a touch, but he wisely didn’t say anything. He’d made it abundantly clear he thought the boy was going to slow them down. Whether he was a captive or another mouth to feed, he didn’t have a lot of patience for the teenager. She thought it was a harsh attitude, but acknowledged she might be a bit of a bleeding heart.

  The knock on the locked door was out of politeness. She didn’t expect to hear him reply, so she immediately turned the doorknob. Juggling the bag in her hand, she blinked into the dim light. The curtains were pulled over the windows, not much light getting through the forest or the fabric. The room was hot and smelled of piss and old blood.

  “Trevor?”

  His head twitched slightly at the sound of his name. He was sitting up, but had probably fallen asleep sitting at his mother’s side, his vigil constant.

  “I got you something. A Coke and it’s actually cold.” He didn’t move. His mother’s still hand rested between both of his. Penelope didn’t like the look of the rise and fall of her chest, but she didn’t want to disrupt the relative calm to check closer. Trevor was violently protective of her. “I’ll leave it here for you, okay?”