by Keys, Logan
It left them on a small island of roof on one side.
“Now what?”
Exactly, Kai thought. Now what?
They’d survived the looters, so far. The flooding in New Orleans. Being shot at. And Sierra’s asthma. All to die on a roof from a fire.
He wrapped his arms around himself, sure that he’d never been this cold in his life. They could freeze even if they didn’t burn because there was no way down. None.
And Kai was woozy. The blood loss wasn’t something he could ignore much longer. Still, he and Mathew checked the other side and Jen and Quinn and Sierra stayed in the very middle, huddled together to keep warm. Kai was terrified of heights, so it made sense that he’d be stuck on a roof, as if Murphy was the law of the universe at this moment.
“Kai,” Sierra said.
He stopped his pacing towards one ledge and turned to face her.
She beckoned him over and he came. “You’re freezing,” she murmured, pushing him into the center. Mathew joined them, too.
They all sort of vibrated together, taking turns rubbing arms, uncaring of how personal it was. The wind was blowing—no, tearing—across the roof, and it was stealing their heat so fast that Kai couldn’t feel his nose and hands within minutes.
They stomped their feet as their toes went numb.
Mathew stomped once, extra hard, and his foot went through the roof.
“Move!” Kai shouted, but it was too late.
As one huddle, they fell straight through as the roof gave beneath them, landing on the floor they’d just escaped from in a shower of sparks and debris.
“Go, go, go!” Kai shouted, but he was slow to rise.
“You okay?” he called to Sierra, who nodded at him but then her eyes drifted to a spot in the room and she locked tight, going perfectly still.
Jen was on her side on the ground, blood all around her, and fire was around all of them. She had landed on a spike of metal that went straight through her side, the sharp edges protruding from her skin shining in the firelight with blood.
“Help me,” she said, frantic, pinned in place.
Mathew was already there. “Don’t move her!” he told them, but Kai shook his head.
“We don't have a choice.” Kai tried to pull the metal out but realized it wouldn’t budge.
“Maybe lift her?”
But she howled when they tried, and it didn’t give.
They were in a tiny pocket not yet on fire, but it would be seconds before they burned alive if they didn’t run.
Jen screamed again as they tried to lift her again. “It’s stuck!”
“Can you carry her?”
The entire piece of metal was attached to parts of the roof that had fallen with them. It was too heavy to lift, and Kai gave Sierra a look that said it was impossible.
Jennifer sobbed as more blood pooled around her body.
“Stay still,” Sierra said, tears on her face as she pushed Jen’s hair back and cradled her chin. “Look at me. Breathe.”
Jen nodded and did as she asked, but blood coated her lips. Kai saw Sierra’s face when she turned. She’d gone pale.
His sister was the first to understand. Sierra was the first to realize because she was already backing away. She coughed and grabbed Kai’s hand. “We have to go,” she told him quietly.
He couldn’t believe it, but what else could they do? Still, he said, “What?”
But Sierra was right.
Mathew was trying, but the fire was only a couple feet away now. Jen was groaning, eyes rolling around in her head, and then she was quiet.
“We have to go,” Sierra said, grabbing Quinn’s hand, tugging the girl towards the door.
“The fire,” Quinn said, but she was in shock, her voice distant, her eyes never leaving her bleeding, dying friend.
“We have to run through it,” Sierra told them all, and finally Kai nodded and followed her towards the door as she added, “We have to try.”
Sierra grabbed Kai’s hand with her bloody one and Kai pulled on Mathew’s shoulder with his.
He glanced back just once to see Jen’s face was as pale as a ghost, but she was looking right at him, eyes narrow, angry.
“Go,” Kai said, and Mathew finally went.
Together as one, they found the door to the room through the smoke. Just as they stepped outside, the roof collapsed in and the fire made it impossible to see Jen anymore.
Quinn sobbed as Sierra dragged her towards the staircase that was also on fire.
Impossible, Kai thought as the fire enveloped them all.
But nothing was stopping Sierra now.
“It’s too hot!” Kai called, but she ignored him, as always.
Face determined, she held Quinn’s hand and his, and Mathew was between them, holding his hand over theirs.
Sierra led the way, her face resolute despite the tears. They all cried from the smoke, but from more than that, too.
Kai coughed and tried to shield his eyes to see his sister as she forged ahead into the flames. They followed her into the blaze, knowing they might die.
Knowing they most assuredly would get burned.
But somehow, they trusted Sierra to lead them through.
3
Two years earlier…
“So, you gave her the envelope?”
“I did.”
Wirtz wasn’t judging him. He really had no room to talk. The man had made all of the hard decisions his entire career. A four-star general didn’t become such without having made wrong, or right, or even gray choices in his life.
But Griggs felt hot guilt anyway. Those who thought that guilt was only for the evil were wrong. It wasn’t even only for the people doing bad things. Nope. It was for people like Griggs, too. People who did the right thing even though it was the difficult thing. They, too, felt guilty because, well, what if it was the wrong thing to do, after all? If you didn’t second guess yourself, were you really trying to do the right thing, anyway?
Assurance is for the fool, he thought. But then again, he felt a fool for being involved in the first place. This was for big people. Presidential people. How had the fate of the world fallen into the hands of a failed chef? After his father and his father’s father’s prestige, how is it that the one who washed dishes for great men held in his hands the most important document ever to be documented?
Would wonders never cease?
“So, you gave her uh---”
“Mandy,” Griggs supplied.
“Right. Mandy the reporter. You gave her the fate of the world. You put that all on an old flame’s shoulders? Ouch. I wonder how she’s taking that. I wonder what she’s thinking after reading that mess. Will she blame you like you blame me for involvement, you think?”
“She’s not an old flame. She’s uh…friend.”
Grigg’s hadn’t even thought of it that way. Man, this guilt is a real SOB right now. “I don’t blame you,” Griggs said.
But Wirtz’s smile was sly. “Don’t you?”
Perhaps he did. But what good did it do? None.
He’d given her the document with all the information about project Sol. About trying to restart the sun. A sun that was dying.
Now, all there was left to do was wait.
4
The old orchards of Southern California
There were so many people in need of shelter, all of them running from the cloud, that Clive had stopped trying to remember anyone’s name anymore. There was the first family that had arrived, he remembered Lanny and Chris’s names, but their kids and the rest who’d followed were too hard to keep track of.
Siri wasn’t helping. Her use of nicknames that changed on a dime further added to the confusion. “Yellow hat guy” soon became “lazy-eye guy,” and Clive found himself searching everyone’s eyes, all fifty-plus people, until he realized it was futile because he didn’t even see anyone with a lazy eye and Siri was probably just messing with him.
Later, she’d probably be like, �
��You were looking for lazy-eyed people all night, weren’t ya?”
They were inside of the bunker now; Daniel and Lila, the hippie preppers, had shown them the way to a place they’d been preparing for years. They’d known about this disaster. Lila’s brother had told her all of what was to come, and they’d been the only ones.
It created a lot of questions in Clive’s mind. If Lila’s brother knew, if he had been told, then why didn’t the rest of the world know what would happen?
He’d told her to build a bunker, so they’d been totally clear on the idea that they were going to need it, right?
They really hadn’t put it anywhere super-secret, either. The bunker was literally in the basement. It was exactly the size of the house, but underground. And yes, while fifty people could fit, it was with everyone snuggled shoulder to shoulder, taking turns sleeping on the ten beds and cots, and spreading food and water far too thin.
And air…that was their largest issue. The filtration system was being overworked, and Daniel had found a few engineers to see to it.
With the air filters lug-lugging to keep up, it was miserable. The smell of humanity inside the underground sardine can was horrendous.
“I’m about ready to take my chances with the cloud,” Clive growled when Siri finally reached his side of the room.
“Actually, I agree.” Her face darkened, and it immediately put Clive on alert.
“What is it?”
“Oh,” she said. “Nothing.”
Clive searched the room before he spotted the young guy about ten steps away. A drifter hidden deep inside the hood of a thick jacket. Clive had seen him join them at the last second. He’d stayed to himself; tried to remain invisible.
He watched Clive, with heavy-set blue eyes, and neither were lazy, that was for sure.
“That guy bothering you?” The drifter was young. Very young.
A wiry son of a gun.
“Not at all,” Siri said, airily enough that Clive knew to keep an eye on them both.
She was standing stiff and uncomfortably. The drifter moved over and said something to Daniel, the land and shelter owner, Siri’s friend, and he nodded his head. They didn’t look like strangers—the drifter and Daniel, that is.
Siri, too. Her eyes met the drifter’s, and then she looked sharply away.
Ah. So, they all know each other, Clive thought.
There was history there. History and something else. “Hmm,” Clive said, and Siri smiled, but it wasn’t her normal smile.
“Don’t worry about stuff all the time,” she said but chewed a nail.
Great, Clive thought. He was in a bunker with fifty strangers, and already one of them was a problem.
He’d sleep just awesomely when it was his turn.
“The cloud will pass, won't it?” Lanny asked, and Clive nodded. He thought it might. If it moved in, couldn’t it also move out? He wasn’t sure, but he had to believe it.
“You want to eat something?” he asked Siri, hoping to cheer her up.
She shrugged and hid amidst the crowd, and the hair stood up on his neck like a dog’s.
Siri had found some colorful sunglasses somewhere in the melee. She popped them down on her nose and blocked out the world. Now he knew why she liked big shades. It hid away her sad eyes when you were used to the happy ones.
She liked to control how she was seen.
Clive ground down on his back teeth.
This was a problem, on a list of many. He shot an angry look across the way at the young man. Whoever was making his new rainbow friend edgy was pissing him off, and he had no clue what he was going to do about it.
He wandered off to listen to a few ongoing conversations. One man was talking about staying fit while below ground and when he turned to Clive, he glanced at him up and down, eyes landing on his gut.
Clive wandered away, towards the rations.
The man’s voice carried over the noise. “You kind of have to be in shape in this new landscape. Lots of running.” A few nervous laughs peppered out. “Some of us let ourselves go. But survival of the fittest is how it’s going to be from now on.”
Why did it feel like the guy was looking for Clive again? As if he were some sort of soft example.
I’m not that out of shape, Clive thought. He’d tried running on the treadmill a few times a week. Touching the soft belly that was swiftly disappearing since the last day of the normal world, he pushed around the extra skin through his shirt with a frown.
He could do some crunches in the bunker, he guessed. The bag of Cheetos in his hand glared back at him as if to say, “Guess not.”
What a crazy thing to worry about at the end of the world. Your looks.
Siri cocked her head as she strode over, figuring out what he was thinking in that uncanny way of hers. “Keeping it tight like a tiger, are you? The misses must love the clean grip she can keep on this jelly factory right here.”
“Oomph,” he huffed as he sucked in his gut while she pretended she was going to punch it, stopping an inch away.
“Made you flinch.”
No flinching. That was the rule. Just thinking of it made him miss his brother.
Siri was still inspecting him. “You’re not half bad,” she said with a sly expression. “But you could smile more.”
He rolled his eyes at her back as she walked away, stuffing a handful of Cheetos into his mouth for good measure. When she checked over her shoulder, he grinned, letting the orange mush show clearly between his teeth.
He would cherish the loud guffawing laugh she made over the sound of the crowded, stinking, packed room of fleshy humanity for weeks to come.
The day wore on, and it really wore on. Clive couldn’t find a group he actually wanted to talk to. The families spoke about their children and shared those stories. That made him too homesick. Those who had lost people were sharing their grief, and he wasn’t ready to grieve just yet. Not really.
More militant groups were planning, plotting, and he felt like that was smart, but he couldn’t rouse the energy for it. He just wanted to get across the river, and everyone shook their heads when he asked them if they had ideas how.
When Siri stood next to him that evening after dinner, yawning, Clive said, “Why don’t you take my spot? I can’t sleep anyway.”
The teen perked up. “Really?”
He nodded. “Yup.”
“Okay.” And she was off like a shot towards the bunks in the other room.
Clive waited until she was out of sight. He then crossed through the press of bodies until he was at Daniel’s side. “So. What’s the story?”
“Oh, uh…” Daniel glanced at his wife then back at Clive. “When, um, Siri came to us, there was some…baggage. She hadn’t completely broken away from the group she was with. She told you about them?”
“Yeah. She called them a bad group.”
“They were. Are.” He held up a hand to stay Clive who already was striding over to talk to the young man, but Daniel stopped him. “Listen to me. Siri’s no flower petal, all right?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” It came out a growl and Clive wondered who this was speaking.
It certainly wasn’t the Risk Assessment senior representative…right?
He hadn’t meant to say it so loudly, either. The words echoed and the room quieted until all eyes turned on him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he said more quietly, and Daniel’s face was red.
“Look.” The hippie with shotguns and prepper gear sounded less peace and love when the rubber met the road. “She got into trouble as well. And then when Keith came around–”
“Keith,” Clive said, like a curse word.
Now he had a name.
“Yeah. Keith.” Daniel scratched behind his ear. “When he came around again, we couldn’t keep her away from him. They went off a few times and they got into trouble with the law. Brought the police here.”
Clive narrowed his eyes. “And you couldn’t
have the cops sniffing around your pot farm, now could you?”
“Hey, man,” Daniel said, hurt in his gaze. “Chill out. That’s not fair.”
Clive breathed out and rubbed a hand through his hair. It was longer than it had been since he was a kid. Wearing Daniel’s pants, he must’ve looked like a hippie himself. Angrily wanting to bust up a drifter he barely knew, none of this was like him.
Or maybe the other…the guy with an office, maybe all along that hadn’t been the real him.
This was confusing. “I’m sorry,” he said, falling into his more natural default of go-with-the-flow. “I don’t mean to be…I’m not sure what’s wrong with me.”
Daniel smiled and touched his shoulder. “You’re tired. Just like we all are. Why not go get you some sleep? I’ll fudge the schedule.”
“All right,” Clive said. “Okay. But I want to know more.”
“Sure, sure,” Daniel said, but he shot a worried look at Lila, his wife, who had been watching the exchange carefully, before he turned away.
Clive decided he’d wait just a bit longer to sleep. He was too agitated anyway.
Lila approached after a time, her eyes seeming to weigh something before she said, “You know, Clive, Keith was one of them, but he’s one of the good ones. Just a kid hard up and he’s had bad luck, same as Siri.”
“Hmm.” Clive wasn’t so sure.
“He’s no trouble,” she said, realizing that Clive wasn’t agreeing with her. “We don’t want any trouble in here, either, you understand?” This time there was firmness in her voice.
Clive asked, “You have a way to see if the air cleared above?”
She eyed him shrewdly, shaking her head. “It’s still toxic at the moment as far as we can tell.”
“Let’s keep checking.”
Clive looked across the way at Keith whose steady gaze met his without flinching. The kid even lifted his chin up and Clive felt like he’d never hated anyone on sight like this before. Siri’s aversion made him want to throw the kid out of the bunker, and that wasn’t rational, but he was only notching up not down about it.
