by AJ Rose
“Sure. I mean, that’s the arrangement.” They stood awkwardly for a moment, and Ash turned and pushed through the stairwell door. “Um, maybe we could hang out after class tonight?” Elliot asked hopefully, following close on his heels.
“Yeah, okay,” he agreed before considering if he should. He had other things on his mind as he trudged up the three flights of stairs, hunched beneath the weight of his backpack. It was heavier than usual with the extra supplies he’d packed. His cellphone, three backup batteries and one of those portable chargers that held four charges, a handheld GPS, a flashlight, and all his cash in the world—$1,200—were individually wrapped in foil, stuffed in plastic zipper bags, then arranged inside a cardboard-lined metal cookie tin with aluminum tape tightly wound around the lid to make sure there were no gaps in contact. Uncle Marvin had sent an encrypted email with a few more details of his suspicions, including the type of problem he expected and coordinates he wanted Ash and Charlotte to stick to on their trek across the country. Ash had spent the day packing what little he could and making sure the cookie tin was secure. As soon as class was over, he intended to write down the coordinates he hadn’t had a chance to transfer, so if his phone became nothing more than a glorified flashlight, it wouldn’t matter. His bag also contained a change of clothes in place of his schoolbooks, a small first-aid kit, and a few bottles of water. The only text he carried was for his immediate class.
It would have to do until he could get away and supply up.
As they reached the top of the stairwell, Elliot zigzagged behind him. Ash tolerated the chatter as they emerged on the floor where their classroom was located, several students already at their stations, perched on tall stools. Each table bore two half-filled flasks with no labels. The day’s experiment was written on the whiteboard with the page number of their text that contained the instructions.
Ash blocked Elliot out while pulling materials from the supply cabinet, returning to their station with laden arms. He was glad to have work distract his partner so he’d stop with the babbling. While it used to irritate Ash to no end, the more he’d gotten to know the guy, the more he got used to it, but tonight he was on edge. Elliot studied the text, murmuring as he read to himself, a quirk that also used to annoy Ash. These days, he found it sort of endearing.
“Identify unknown aldehyde and unknown ketone,” Elliot read, gesturing to the unlabeled flasks, the nervous, fumblingly awkward guy from the street all but gone. This was the Elliot Ash preferred—serious, smart, and focused. He had to be, to keep up with upperclassmen and their workload.
Elliot pulled out his notebook and hooked his stool toward him with a foot, prepared to take notes while Ash performed the experiment. Ash donned a pair of gloves before handling anything, setting up their test tubes and checking the nearby steam bath and ice tubs for the second part of the assignment. The room was quiet as everyone buckled down, their professor, Dr. Hunt, walking among the tables to observe.
They set to work, mixing acetone with each unknown liquid before dropping chromic acid into test tubes and waiting for the reaction to turn blue-green. Ash timed the speed at which the reaction took place and indicated to Elliot which was aldehyde and which was ketone. It was a boring experiment, but in a way, Ash was grateful, given his concentration was so divided.
Minute sounds of glass pipettes clacking against tubes and flasks lulled Ash as he found his element, forgetting bullies, over-eager partners, pressures with his grades and scholarships, or the fact that his roommates were jerks who kept stealing his laundry quarters. He swore Jared, who shared his bedroom was fucking his girlfriend in Ash’s bed to avoid washing his own sheets.
All that fell away while they worked, though his earlier argumentative call with his sister Charlotte resurfaced. Charlotte hadn’t wanted to hear his admonitions.
“Stop right there, Asher,” she’d said. “Even if I cared about whatever warning Uncle Marvin saw fit to scare you with, I don’t speak prepper. This code you two have worked out makes you sound like a grade-school kid with his first walkie-talkie. Riley even thinks you sound stupid, and he’s ten and worships you.”
“Charlotte, just because Marvin lives the way he does doesn’t mean he’s crazy. One of these times, he’s gonna be right. What will you and Riley do when that happens?” he countered.
“In case you’re forgetting, I grew up in the same family as you. I have several months’ worth of supplies, and a kid to think about. That’s what normal people who prepare for disasters do, Ash. Hunker down until the threat is past.”
He rolled his eyes. “Lotta good those things will do when desperate neighbors break down your front door because all you have is a flimsy lock and no way to defend yourself.”
She scoffed. “I am not building booby traps in my yard for my kid to trip when he comes home from school, and I will not have guns in this house.”
It was a tired argument, one they never resolved. She thought Uncle Marvin was a crackpot, living in a bunker with contingency plans for several disaster scenarios, and she refused to believe he had a shred of credibility. To be fair, ninety-nine percent of the people who met Marvin agreed. Hell, Ash took most of what the man said with a grain of salt. But he knew not everything Marvin believed was as crazy as Charlotte said when she really ranted about their only living extended relative. The fact he wasn’t technically blood related didn’t diminish him in Ash’s eyes, but he always wondered if it made a difference to Charlotte.
This time, however, there had been something in Marvin’s voice, a quiver of either anticipation of being validated or fear that one of his scenarios might actually come to pass. Either way, Ash was on higher alert than for any prior warning of Marvin’s.
“Just be ready if I show up,” he told Charlotte.
She blew a weary sigh. “Stay in the city, Ash. I can take care of myself.” Despite the tense conversation, they’d said their I love yous and promised to speak again in a few days. As much as they disagreed, they also understood the fragility of being human and how quickly life could change.
Ash blinked out of his reverie with the burn in his biceps, wondering how much more remained of the fifteen minutes he was required to swirl the aldehyde in the flask.
As if reading his mind, Elliot glanced at his watch and said, “Three more minutes, then you can stop.”
Ash looked out the window, noting the darkness tempered by the bight lights of the city he called home, setting the night sky on fire. The rhythmic motion of his arm, the quiet, and the calm he felt in his element among the books and formulas gave him a much-needed sense of security.
Until the lights went out.
There were gasps of surprise from the other students, and the crash of glass as someone dropped their flask. The silence was suffocating as the vents, usually so much white noise, ceased blowing and the fluorescents’ regular hum disappeared. The quiet lasted a few seconds before the entire class spoke at once.
“Everyone remain calm,” Dr. Hunt intoned, his deep baritone cutting through the sudden chatter. “This building has a generator. It’ll kick on in a moment.”
Ash sat on his stool, eyes widened in a futile attempt to see through the inky black. His heart pounded.
This is it. He stepped away from the table full of chemicals, fumbled for his Zippo, and struck it.
“Mr. Caine,” Dr. Hunt snapped. “Put the flame away this instant.”
“Relax, sir,” Ash said with confidence. “I’m not near the experiments.”
“Regardless, the lights will be back on shortly, and this room contains more compounds than just tonight’s work. Extinguish your flame or receive a failing grade,” Dr. Hunt warned.
“What are you doing?” Elliot hissed. “Put it out.”
He did as he was told, blinking as his eyes adjusted. Another student whined their cellphone wouldn’t power up so she could access the flashlight app, while her partner pulled out her keys, which held a tiny yet powerful MAGLITE. Ash could have pulled his
phone from the protected cookie tin, but he didn’t want to fumble with all that in the dark. Besides, he feared battery life had just become precious.
Carefully, he picked a path through the tables to the window on the opposite side of the room, dread gnawing his gut like a rodent in a fast-food dumpster. He almost didn’t want to look, but he had to.
The entire city was dark.
Someone came up behind him and gasped. “It’s all out,” Elliot said, standing so close Ash felt his breath on the back of his neck.
The class crowded the three windows in the room, trying to see the dark swath of nothingness beyond the glass. New York City was totally black. Ash took a good look, knowing he was witnessing history.
“What does that mean?” one guy asked.
“Power is out everywhere, duh,” someone answered.
“Wait, no it’s not. Look.”
In the distance, lights winked on. Maybe a hospital or an office building, Ash surmised, realizing generators were powering up. It seemed Dr. Hunt’s prediction of the building’s unit was off the mark, however. The room remained dark and silent, except for the shuffle of feet and people pulling out their phones only to mutter when not all of them lit up. Elliot went back to their station and sat.
Dr. Hunt rummaged in his storeroom and returned with a large flashlight, setting it on his desk to point at the ceiling. The glow left the corners dark, but provided enough light for Ash to see. He strode to his seat and stepped around Elliot, who’d picked up a pen and was tapping it against his notebook. If he thought Ash was sticking around until class was over, he was so very wrong.
“Hey, does anyone have a phone?” someone called. “Mine is dead. I could have sworn I charged it before I left home.”
“Cell towers will probably be out anyway. They run on power, too,” Elliot said.
“No.” The guy frowned at his phone, fingers growing increasingly frantic trying to call the screen to life. “It’s totally dead.”
“Mine seems okay,” his lab partner said, showing hers. “No signal though.”
Ash bent to grab his backpack from beneath the table, hefting it and no longer cursing its extra weight. “Pack up, Elliot.”
“Mr. Caine.” Dr. Hunt frowned, his bushy mustache twitching in disapproval as his forehead wrinkled with his raised eyebrows. His receding hairline was only a hint in the dimness from the flashlight. Ash barely glanced his way. “Where are you going?”
To drag my stubborn sister to Seattle, he thought. Aloud, he replied, “I’m not staying in a room full of volatile chemicals, some of which need temperature control, while the building’s generator fails.”
“Oh, but it’s safe enough for your lighter?” Dr. Hunt retorted.
“Well, no. You told me it wasn’t,” Ash threw back. He flipped his notebook closed and shoved it down in the depths of the bag, beside the map of the state he’d swiped from Jared. He zipped the bag without packing the textbook.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Elliot asked, trying to hand the book to him. He either hadn’t heard Ash tell him to get his shit together, or he didn’t want to.
Giving his partner a last meaningful look, he shook his head. “No need for it anymore. You staying?” He didn’t have time to wait, but he gave Elliot a few seconds. When no answer came, he turned to leave.
“Mr. Caine,” Dr. Hunt protested. “Hey!” Ash ignored him.
“Asher!” Elliot called.
Something in Elliot’s voice made him turn around. The whole class was staring.
“I’m going somewhere safe. You all might want to do the same.” He banged out the door after giving his friend a pointed look.
He was halfway down the nearest flight of stairs, the batteries in the emergency exit signs powering the eerie red lights which turned everything a ghostly, washed-out red, when the sound of rapidly descending feet reached him.
“Ash, wait!” Elliot called.
“Catch up!” he returned, not slowing as he ran lists in his head, the order of his next steps. He needed to get to Charlotte and Riley.
“Where are you going that’s any safer than here?” Elliot asked breathlessly.
“Almost anywhere else will be safer than this city in a couple days,” he answered cryptically, making the next landing down.
“Will you wait a minute, Nostradamus?” Elliot snapped. Ash stopped, surprised by his insistence. He hadn’t realized the guy had it in him to bark. Elliot scowled at him through the thick frames of his glasses. “What do you know?”
Ash sighed, grabbing Elliot’s elbow and pulling him along to keep moving.
“The power’s out.”
“No fucking shit,” Elliot said.
“Whole city, dude. That’s not usually something that can be fixed in a day. So I’m getting out until it’s safe to return. You can come or stay, but I don’t have time to wait for you to decide.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Elliot said, his feet slapping on the tiles of the lobby.
Ash pointed to the blackness beyond the windows. “Tell that to all of New York.” He kept going until Elliot smacked his shoulder with his abandoned chemistry book.
“You left this.” Elliot’s voice was tinged with fear and denial, as well as a heavy dose of skepticism.
“Thanks.” Ash took the book and dumped it in the nearest trashcan as he emerged onto the street. He tried not to care if Elliot believed him or not. It wasn’t his problem. His sister, nephew, and uncle were. As much as he’d sometimes enjoyed Elliot’s company, Ash had his priorities.
“Are you insane?” Elliot harped.
Ash wheeled around, sick of being held up. He kept an eye on their surroundings, noting the chaos, including traffic, was currently controlled, but for how long? Cars honked, but what else was new? Though he did see a stalled one nearby. He filed that away, the make and model of the dead vehicle. He grabbed Elliot’s upper arms, getting close and speaking clearly.
“Don’t you get it? The power is out in the entire city. There’s a chance it’s more than just us, okay?” He realized how paranoid he sounded, but if he was right? He had to get out. Now. He kept his volume down, but the words were no less fierce. “It could be days, weeks, even months before it’s fixed. What do you think people are going to do while they wait? What did they do during Hurricane Sandy? Roast s’mores and sing Kumba-fucking-ya? I’m going. If you’re smart, you’ll come with me, but I don’t have time to wait while you work it out.” He stalked off toward his apartment, not intending to go there but working up the nerve for the first two things on his to-do list: steal a car and get more supplies than he’d been able to fit in his bugout bag.
“I’m not stupid, you know. So the city is out. How do you know it’s bigger, Ash?” Elliot almost whined, keeping pace despite Ash’s long, purposeful strides.
“Have you got a phone?” Elliot pulled an iPhone out of his pocket and waved it. “Try to turn it on,” Ash instructed. The screen remained stubbornly black. “It’s fried. A regular power outage doesn’t do that.”
Elliot threw up his hands. “What are you saying? This is a solar flare or something odd that took out the whole country?”
Ash stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, a frisson of fear dragging up his spine like a resurrected zombie shambling for brains. If Elliot wasn’t coming, he needed to ditch the kid before he got to the illegal stuff, and it clearly wasn’t happening until he explained what he knew. He was uncomfortable enough with breaking more than the underage drinking laws. Last thing he wanted was a witness or to get Elliot in trouble. “I don’t know. I have no evidence for anything. All I know is my uncle, who keeps his ear to the ground about foreign stuff and terrorists and shit like that, called and told me if something unusual happened, to get out of the city. He sent me an email and said to be prepared. I need to get to my sister and nephew before any inmates do. I’m not going to sit around and wait for this place to descend into Lord of the Flies.”
Elliot stared at hi
m, confused, eyebrows furrowed but opening his mouth to ask another question.
Ash lost patience and snapped, “Are you staying here or coming with me?” Elliot’s eyes went wide. Ash got right in his face, their lips an inch apart. “If you’re staying, I’m gonna kiss you goodbye and walk away. Five seconds.” He paused long enough to count down, while at the same time, giving Elliot a thorough eye-fuck for old time’s sake. Elliot’s skin reddened, and he demurely dropped his gaze.
“Time,” Ash said softly, then kissed his lab partner for all he was worth, with full body contact, holding his head captive with one hand and pressing his other into the small of Elliot’s back. Delving into Elliot’s mouth, he groaned when his startled partner got over his surprise and kissed back with equal fervor, the caress of tongues and clash of teeth not usual for them. Hell, the kissing was unusual. Ash was almost instantly hard and regretting there was no time for this. With one last sweep of his tongue between Elliot’s lips, he pulled back and looked into Elliot’s eyes. “Then I guess this is goodbye.” He ignored the pang in his chest, swinging around and striding away.
2
CHAPTER TWO
Day 1
New York City, New York
* * *
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.
—Edgar Allen Poe
* * *
ELLIOT STARED AFTER ASH, indecision freezing him in place while his lips throbbed in time with his heartbeat. Ash was only half a block away when he became indiscernible from the inky shadows. There was a nearly full moon, so the edges of shapes held pearly highlights, hulking buildings cast shadows, and people scuttled like roaches fleeing sudden movement. Still, Elliot stood immobile.
He’s crazy, was his first thought.
What if he’s right?
