Life wasn’t fair. Dad died two years ago, and they’d worked harder than ever to make ends meet. Why? For everything they worked for to be destroyed?
She climbed the stairs and stared at the sky. Peaceful and blue. No clouds in sight. It was hard to believe that this time tomorrow the sky would be filled with streaks of fire and the world cast into months of dusk. She wouldn’t be able to watch the show, though. Nope, she’d be safe underground like a gopher.
###
Colton Morgan turned off the television and glanced out the window to the patio. His telescope took place of honor. He’d known all along they wouldn’t be able to divert a meteor the size of Rhode Island. It was pure conceit to think otherwise.
That’s why the wooden chest under his bed was full of ammo for his rifle and two thick medical journals he’d stolen from the library. He’d felt a twinge of guilt, but after tomorrow, nobody would care.. He’d snuck it all there two days ago, right under the noses of his foster parents. Not that they paid much attention to what he did anyway. They were too busy stocking up on booze and cigarettes. But if his caseworker found out, there’d be hell to pay.
In his closet, he’d managed to sneak a couple backpacks of food, but that had been harder. Taking the key to the lock on the pantry was near impossible, considering his foster mother kept it on a spiraled key chain around her wrist. But one night, she’d forgotten.
Other times, he’d managed to take a can here and there from the diner. He’d be all right for a couple of weeks. If, and it was a big if, the sky ended up falling like everyone said it would. If not, he’d return what he’d taken.
Finally. Nine o’clock. Colton grabbed his backpack from a hook on the wall, and dashed out the door. He’d like to snatch a few more things before the morning. A can opener, matches, that sort of stuff. The essentials needed for camping.
He unlocked his bicycle from the garage and pedaled toward town as fast as he could, dodging cars, sprinting people, and a world gone mad. If things were coming to a head tomorrow, he had a lot to do. He needed to hide the cartons of cigarettes he’d had somebody buy for him. They’d be like gold if humanity fell apart. How could he get his hands on some liquor?
A small mom-and-pop drug store sat off the beaten path. Colton hopped off his bike and wheeled it through the open doors. A few patrons pushed full shopping carts to the register.
Colton swung off his backpack and tossed in medicines and first aid supplies. Since he planned on spending an indeterminate amount of time in a cave he’d found outside of town, he planned on being prepared for anything that could harm him.
An elderly lady shoved him out of the way and grabbed two bottles of NyQuil and some aspirin. Colton shrugged and moved to the antibiotic cream and bandages. He eyed the pharmacy counter. He’d love to get his hands on some real meds. He spotted the pharmacist.
“Mr. Harper!” Colton shoved his way past several people. “Any way I can get back there and stock up on some things?”
Mr. Harper cocked his head. “I’ll lose my job. Get arrested too.”
“Come on. It’s not like anyone’s going to be around past tomorrow.” Colton grinned. “I promise not to say a word. Wouldn’t you rather I had some of it than crooks stealing it after the lights go out?”
“You’ve got a point there.” Mr. Harper pressed a button and Colton scooted behind the counter. “Don’t take anything to get yourself high. You’ll need your wits about you.”
“I’m only after antibiotics. You can watch me if you want.” He filled as many empty pill bottles as he could find, adding a couple full of pain pills and prescription strength ibuprofen. He fished fifty dollars out of his pocket. “Here. This will cover some of the cost. I’m not going to need the money anyway.” Colton patted Mr. Harper on the back, then vaulted over the counter. By then, a crowd surged toward the pharmacy tech, intent on getting drugs of their own.
Colton dashed to his bike and pedaled away before someone tried to snatch his pack. A man tried to grab his bike. He thrust out a leg and knocked the stranger to the asphalt. His thighs burned as he increased his speed and flew around the corner and back home.
Usually, his foster parents were already snoring by nine p.m. or passed out in front of the TV. Not tonight. The last night the Earth would be as sunny, as beautiful, the stars as bright, as they were used to. He fished his key from the front pocket of his jeans and opened the door. He wanted to move the last of his things under the cover of darkness.
So much for having his heart set on being a doctor someday. Oh, well, if anybody knew how life threw curve balls, it was Colton Morgan.
“Colton!”
“Yes, Mom?” He hated calling Mrs. Forrest mom. She wasn’t his mother and never could take the place of the woman who’d died of pneumonia two years before. As to his birth mother, well, he hadn’t a clue who she was or where she was.
“Dad and I are going to fill up the gas tank, just in case, a some containers while we’re at it.” She walked past him, grabbed her purse, and blew a cloud of cigarette smoke in his face.
He grimaced and turned away. Perfect. They’d be gone a couple of hours at least. By midnight, true to their nature, his foster parents were passed out drunk in front of the TV, and Colton had added another case of bottled water to his stockpile, written a note saying ‘thanks for taking me in, but I’ll be on my way’ note, and moved everything to his cave. He propped his bike against the dirt wall, rolled out his sleeping bag, and waited for the world to end.
Chapter 2
Chalice pitched the last fork of hay to the horses and glanced to where Mychal barged through the backdoor of the house. She checked her watch for the hundredth time that day. Two hours until the fear in her heart burst free and shook her world on its axle. For the thousandth time, she prayed that somehow the scientists were wrong and disaster would be averted. She wiped her forearm across her face to clear the sweat from her eyes.
Hanging in her closet was a royal blue dress, shorter in the front and trailing in the back. Her dream prom dress. Now, she’d never get to wear it or dance with the handsome senior, Mark.
A whistle pierced the sky. Then a flash of light. Heaven decided to rain early. Chalice dropped the pitchfork, yanked her sister from under the tree where she read a book about vampires, and raced for the cellar. “Mom! Mychal! It’s here.”
“Coming.” Mychal sprinted toward her, his arms loaded with flashlights and batteries. “Mom’s coming in a minute.”
Chalice nodded as he and Hanna scooted down the stairs and into the dim pit they’d call home for a good long while. Lady, their dog, yelped and scooted past them.
A yellow pine tree near the house burst into flame, then the roof of the house caught fire.
“Mom.” Chalice turned.
More fire pebbles dotted the ground around them. Chalice jumped back and screamed as one exploded between her and the house. Mychal tried to push past her, and she shoved him back. “Stay down there.” She stared at the house and willed her mother to emerge as more missiles fell.
Mom ran from the house, ducking as a meteorite landed inches from her feet. Then another spark caught the hem of her dress on fire. She beat the flames with her hands. “Get in the cellar and close the door.”
Chalice shook her head. She couldn’t leave her.
She took a step farther on the lawn. Another fireball struck her mother in the back, knocking her to her knees. She screamed and struggled to her feet before running toward Chalice with her arms outstretched. She resembled a whirling inferno. With a mighty lunge, she grasped Chalice’s arm then tossed her into the cellar. Her touch seared Chalice’s skin.
“For once in your life, do as you’re told.” She slammed the door. Soon, her screams increased, then died, leaving Chalice’s heart chilled.
She crawled, sobs racking her body, and slid the lock into place. Like a crab she scuttled backward and wrapped her arms around her stomach while the sky fell in thundering slabs around them. The ground
over their head vibrated.
“Where’s Mom?” Hanna scooted next to her.
“She’s not coming, is she?” Mychal fell onto the bed. “She’s dead. We’re alone.”
Chalice shuddered. They were alone. The three of them shut into a growing darkness. And her last act had been one of disobedience. But how could she have scattered like a frightened mouse when her mother raced toward her with brimstone falling around her? Hiding in the cellar wouldn’t have saved her mother’s life. “Light the lamp, Mychal, please.” She couldn’t bear the dark. Not yet.
The ground around their sanctuary shook. Blasts exploded, and they clapped their hands over their ears. Grey light, shattered by flashes of fire, pierced the tiny window in the door. Chalice grabbed the cloth of black fabric their mother had set aside as a curtain and moved with wooden steps to the door. Her heart pounded with the force of the raining rocks outside.
Their shelter under a small hill wouldn’t survive a direct hit. Would it even survive the smaller ones dotting the landscape? A tornado was nothing compared to what she witnessed going on outside.
Black clouds, streaked with flaming balls of orange swirled in the sky. Dust, kicked up from the ground, rose to further block her view. What if someone came tomorrow, or next week? Would they be able to tell Chalice and the others were down here? She glanced at the curtain in her hand. “Mychal, is that black paint still down here from when you painted your bike?”
“Yeah.”
“Paint this window. I don’t want anyone to know we’re here. Paint will work better than fabric.” As the oldest, she needed to take charge. It was up to her to care for the others, now that their mother was gone.
“Then how will we know when we can leave?” His voice trembled. “We’ll be in the dark all day. We can’t waste the oil and candles.”
“We’ll leave in a month. No sooner.” Chalice dried her eyes on her sleeve, avoiding the burn marks in the shape of her mother’s fingers. “Mom died making sure we were okay. We’ll stay until no one knows we’re left here.” Then they’d emerge into what was left of their world.
Chalice made her way to her bunk and drew her brother and sister close as they let the tears flow in earnest.
Who knew what waited them outside? Which direction should they go once they left the cellar? Not south. What if a meteor hit the nuclear power plant? What if the air were tainted with a plague, every breath a danger? That’s one thing Mom hadn’t purchased. Masks.
She choked back a hiccupping sob. The decisions were now left to her, and she had no clue what to do. She didn’t want to be the one in charge of a twelve-year-old and a fifteen-year-old. Almost seventeen was too young. She wanted her mother.
“What do you think is going on out there?” Mychal pulled out of her embrace, most likely embarrassed at his display of what he would consider childishness.
“Sodom and Gomorrah. Could you get me the first aid kit?” She needed to clean and dress the burns on her forearms.
Mychal scooted off the bunk and rummaged in a metal trunk under the table. Within minutes, Chalice applied a cool balm to her burns and began wrapping the wounds in gauze.
“Is that where Mom touched you?”
Chalice nodded. “Now, she’ll always be with me. I have the marks to prove it.”
“I wish she would’ve touched me.” Hanna wailed and threw herself face down on the bed.
“We’re going to die, aren’t we?” Mychal plopped in a chair and covered his face with his hands.
“No, I won’t let that happen.” Chalice closed the medicine box.
“People will find out we’re here, they’ll kill us, and they’ll take our stuff.”
“Stop it.” Chalice lunged to her feet. “Don’t talk like that.” She glanced at Hanna. “Mom would want us to be strong and brave.” She could at least pretend, regardless of the fear that skittered through her. Once she deemed it safe enough to venture out, they’d take their guns and head to the coast. Somewhere there would be survivors. There had to be.
###
Colton rolled into a ball and covered his ears as bombs exploded outside his cave. He probably shouldn’t have hidden alone. There was safety in numbers, right? What happened when it was safe to go outside? Being alone would thrust him into a dangerous situation. Especially with what would only be a fight for food and water. He eyed his bike.
He’d stay to the back roads. Maybe he’d be lucky enough to hotwire a car and take that as far as the gas would allow. But where would he go? The coast? Where would that start now? Arizona? Were the tsunamis as large as the scientists feared? How long until the water receded?
Bile rose in his throat. He ticked off in his mind the acts he’d need to take to survive. Anything to take his mind off what was happening outside. Maybe he shouldn’t have left the Forrests’. Were they still alive? Would taking them with him have guaranteed their survival? What about his friends? None of them believed him, not really, when he’d explained the likelihood of a meteor strike. They’d scoffed and called him a scaredy-cat, and worse. They’d put too much faith in mankind’s strength against space.
They’d angered him at times, making fun of him being a foster kid when he was almost eighteen, yet he hadn’t wished a single one of them dead.
He shivered, and scooted farther from the entrance where he’d piled rocks only hours before. He shut his eyes to try and block out images of what the outside world must look like. Death and destruction. Balls of fire exploding on impact.
Acrid air drifted through the gaps in his barricade. Through the smoke he could make out flickers of flames.
He’d never felt more alone, or frightened. Not even when walking into a new foster home. Now, he lay huddled in a hole in the mountain and prayed the horror outside would pass him by.
There was enough food to last him two months, if he was careful, but he didn’t know if he could stay alone that long. He closed his eyes and wished for it to end.
Chapter 3
One month later.
Colton rolled the stone from his cave and shivered. If not for the watch on his wrist, he would’ve thought the time of day was dusk. Instead, the hands showed ten a.m. A spring morning that felt like winter. He pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his ears and stepped outside.
No birds sang. No dogs barked. Instead, a brisk wind whirled ash and dried leaves around his feet. Thankfully, his hiding place hadn’t received much more than pebble-sized rocks raining down. Colton scrambled to a nearby bluff and gazed over what once was the city he grew up in. Cedar Creek resembled the set of an end-of-the-world movie lot.
Skeletons of buildings dotted the landscape, rising fingers of blackened wood that stretched toward a grey sky. Somewhere in the distance, a gunshot ricocheted. So, there were other survivors. Colton shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Even after being alone, shut up in a dank cave, he had no desire to meet any of them. And it would be the last time he left the cave without his weapon.
He glanced north toward Interstate 40. A lone bus traveled at a snail’s pace. A few people shuffled along the shoulder. Maybe he ought to see about securing a vehicle and head out himself before someone found his lair and stole what little he had.
He loped back to what he called home and surveyed the pile of supplies. Grabbing the bike and his rifle, he set off down the mountain, intent on stealing the first vehicle he came across. Hopefully, he’d score something with a full tank of gas and keys.
Ironic how a natural disaster could turn an honest person into a crook. Now every thought seemed to be about what he could claim next.
“I’ve become what everyone said I would.” His voice sounded strange to his ears and floated away on a wind that smelled of sulphur.
Thirty minutes later, a bandanna tied across his face, he rode into the yard of a burned-out farmhouse. He put down the kickstand of his bike, whipped his rifle from the strap around his neck, and approached the shell of what was once the home of a school buddy. A bull ma
stiff bounded from around the corner.
“Hey, Buddy. Where’s Mark?”
The dog wagged his massive tail.
“How come you don’t look like you’ve been starving?” Colton relaxed and patted his leg, encouraging the dog to come closer. He rubbed his hand over the dog’s matted fur. “Mark didn’t make it, huh? Or did they leave you behind?” He eyed the black Suburban by the barn. “What’s the chance of being able to take that?”
Buddy barked.
“Okay, I’ll take that as permission.” Hope leaped in his chest as Buddy followed close at his heels. He’d take the company of a dog over that of humans anytime. The isolation of the last several weeks ate at Colton, showing him that no matter how brave he tried to be, he didn’t like to be alone. “Does Mark still hide his secret key in the barn?”
He prayed his friend did. Buddy loped ahead of him.
Sure enough, the keys to the truck still resided in a tin can shoved deep in the hay. A ripped bag of dog food answered his question of what Buddy’d been eating. Colton grabbed the other fifty pound bag of food and hoisted it to his shoulder.
“Can’t leave you out here all alone, can I? Although I don’t know how I’ll feed you when this is gone.” He moved outside and tossed the bag in the back of the Suburban, before turning to study the house.
A meteor seemed to have struck close enough to set the house on fire, but not disintegrate it. There might be something salvageable inside. He hoped so, anyway.
He stepped through the front door and grimaced at the sight of three burned bodies, arms outstretched as if they’d tried crawling the last few feet to safety. The smell seeped through Colton’s bandana, turning his stomach. He turned his head, took a deep breath, and squared his shoulders. He could do this. He had to. If he didn’t scavenge, someone else would.
Making a wide skirt around the bodies, he headed to the kitchen. Nothing left of the cabinets, and the weak outside light streamed through the holes in the walls, but the refrigerator still stood. Colton opened the door and gagged.
The Zombie Awakening (Complete 6 Volume Series, plus prologue) Page 3
