Empty

by Suzanne Weyn

  “How’s that house back there doing?” Tom asked, heading back down the driveway toward the firefighter. “Can you save it?”

  “Do you think we can save that?” the firefighter asked scornfully as he gestured toward the flames dancing above the high hedges at the back of Tom’s yard—flames turning the night’s blackness into a purple haze shot through with orange sparks. “That old thing was a fire trap to begin with, but it would be bad if this nice block went up in flames.”

  Going toward the truck, Tom saw Gwen standing at the end of the driveway, gazing at the dancing lights of her home being destroyed.

  What was that wild expression in her eyes?

  It wasn’t grief or fear. It struck him as something close to exaltation, as though she was actually happy to see the house go up in blazes.

  “The house is gone, isn’t it?” Gwen asked when he reached her, in a voice he found strangely bland.

  “It sounds that way, yeah,” Tom confirmed. “I’m real sorry. I hope Luke’s all right.”

  “I called him,” she murmured dreamily, not taking her eyes from the fire. “He’s okay.”

  Tom scrutinized her mesmerized expression. For a moment, he wondered if she was hypnotized by the flames, or even in a state of shock. “Gwen, you know my name, don’t you?” he tested.

  She turned toward him, brows furrowed skeptically. “Of course I know it. What kind of question is that?”

  “What is it?” he pressed.

  “You’re Napoléon Bonaparte.”

  He stared at her, not sure what to do next. She was in shock.

  “Or maybe you’re that dorky Mr. Ralph, who tried to teach creative journalism,” Gwen added. Then the side of her right lip pulled up into a cynical grin. “I know you’re Tom. What did you think? That the fire shocked me out of my head?”

  “Maybe,” he admitted, his voice taking on a sulky tone that embarrassed him. He suddenly felt like an idiot. “It’s pretty shocking to have your house burn down.”

  “I was just waiting for this to happen. I’ve been telling Luke not to store gasoline.”

  “Like I said, I’m real sorry,” he told her, meaning it. “Want me to drive you to Luke?”

  Gwen shook her head. “I’m okay. I won’t miss that house. It’s not as though it was filled with happy memories.”

  In the next moment, Gwen’s blankness fell away and was replaced by an expression of panicked worry. He could tell something new had just occurred to her. “I shouldn’t be standing around here. This is a total disaster,” she said, looking up at Tom, her eyes wide. “It’s worse than you can imagine. There are going to be questions—about my mother, about Luke, about me. I’m not sticking around for that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, it’s time for me to disappear.”

  All at once, the neighborhood came alive with the sounds of TVs and radios. Every house was illuminated. The streetlamps flickered back on in the street around them.

  “The grid’s back up!” Tom exulted. Closing his eyes, he soaked up the sounds and buzz of returning electricity.

  He let himself enjoy this moment of relief before opening his eyes again. “What do you mean, ‘disappear,’” he said, turning to find Gwen. “You can’t—”

  Turning completely around, he couldn’t find her.

  “Gwen!” he shouted. Where could she have gone so quickly? “Gwen!”

  CHAPTER 9

  Niki sat in the passenger seat next to a brunette named Stephy Rosen, who was on her cheering squad. As they drove down the street to her house, Stephy ogled the large homes lit with cozy front lights and Niki worried that Stephy might run up on the curb if she didn’t get her eyes back on the road. “Marietta is so beautiful,” Stephy crooned. “And it’s great to be in a town that isn’t pitch-black at night.”

  “It’s okay. Thanks for the ride,” Niki said. “I know it’s out of your way.”

  “You’re welcome.” The girl glanced uneasily at her fuel gauge. “I’m glad you don’t live any farther, though. Hopefully I have just enough to get home.”

  The dashboard was a blur until Niki bent closer and brought it into a soft focus. She was fed up with not seeing. “Don’t tell anyone you saw this,” she said, digging into her bag for the case that held her glasses. Slipping them on, she saw that Stephy had less than an eighth of a tank remaining. She took two fifty-dollar bills from her wallet and tucked them into the console between their seats. “Take this for the gas. Please.”

  “A hundred dollars! That’s too much,” Stephy objected.

  “Are you kidding? Not for gasoline. It will only buy you a gallon, maybe a gallon and a half. The station on Main Street in Marietta usually has some, though there’s always a long line. You’d better stop there before you head back to Sage Valley. Give my address if they insist you have to be from Marietta to get gas.”

  “Thanks, Niki. I wouldn’t take it, but it’s getting late and I really don’t want to run out when I’m this far from Sage Valley.”

  “No, I understand. Definitely, take it.”

  “Good thing no one stole my gas.”

  “No kidding. Can you believe those guys?”

  “Really! Hey, I saw you were with Tom Harris tonight. Something new?”

  “Kind of,” Niki admitted. “He’s pretty hot, don’t you think?”

  “Very hot, in a quiet kind of way,” Stephy agreed. “At least he’s not all stuck on himself like a lot of the other guys on the team.” Stephy grinned wickedly. “Is Brock crazy jealous?”

  “I don’t know. Was he there with someone?” She tapped her eyeglasses. “I couldn’t really see until now.”

  “You look adorable in those,” Stephy commented.

  “No, I don’t. Was Brock there with someone?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Niki stared at her pointedly.

  “Oh, it was…um…Emily Mear. It didn’t seem like he really liked her, though. He probably just wanted to make you nuts.”

  Niki pictured the girl Brock had been with. She wasn’t even a cheerleader! It wouldn’t last. But she knew Brock hadn’t wanted to make her jealous. After all, he’d been the one who’d broken off with her—for the second time. She’d been dumped for Emily Mear? It seemed inconceivable, but…

  “You’re probably right,” she assured Stephy. “He just wanted to get me upset. But I don’t care. I’m really into Tom now.”

  Was that true? It might be. She wasn’t sure yet.

  She missed Brock and he’d been sweet tonight, though Niki wished he hadn’t been. Brock was starting to be in her head less and less, and she didn’t want him back there anytime soon.

  “That’s great about Tom. I can tell he really likes you,” Stephy said. As she pulled to the curb in front of Niki’s house, Stephy’s phone lit and buzzed. “Oh, I forgot to turn it off before. I hope the battery isn’t too low,” Stephy said, reaching for the phone. No one in Sage Valley left their phones on anymore. They powered up, got their messages, then turned them off again, never certain when they’d have a chance to recharge the batteries.

  Stephy did a small bounce in her seat when she read the text message. “Sage Valley has lights tonight. Yay!”

  “Great!” Niki cheered.

  “Just think, tonight I can charge this phone at home instead of sneaking into the girls’ room at school to plug it in there,” Stephy added, smiling delightedly. “No more detention for unauthorized plug-ins.”

  Niki checked her own phone, which still had half its battery life: seven texts from Tom, wanting to know if she was okay. She felt guilty that she hadn’t contacted him sooner. He was the one who’d been in a fight, after all. She’d been so preoccupied with finding a ride home, and then she’d begun chatting with Stephy. He’d just flown out of her mind. She would call him as soon as she got inside.

  The idea of going in made Niki turn toward her house. It was dark, though she detected a glow from the living room window. Was the gas fireplace still goi
ng?

  A tingle of anxiety ran up her back.

  Something wasn’t right.

  “Bye, Stephy. Don’t forget to get gas,” Niki said, stepping out of the car.

  Stephy was smiling happily. “I can’t wait to see the town with lights again. Everything’s going to go back to normal now. I just know it is!”

  “I bet you’re right. Good night.” Niki watched Stephy pull away and then turned, once more, toward her house. Zipping her jacket against the increasing cold, she approached the front door.

  “Mom?” she checked, entering cautiously. Niki peered into the amber light of the barely burning gas fire. “Oh my God!” she gasped. The living room furniture had been flung everywhere. Shards of a vase lay shattered at her feet. A throw pillow had been ripped and its stuffing was scattered. An end table and chair lay toppled.

  “Mom!” Niki called, now gripped by panic. What had happened here? “Mom!”

  Then the truth struck her. Her father had done this.

  Why had she left her mother here alone with him? She’d just assumed he’d calm down, but he hadn’t. Clearly.

  Niki hurried down the dark center hallway, kicking aside broken frames and shattered glass from paintings thrown to the ground. At the end of the hall was the family room, sunk down three steps so that it overlooked the deck that faced the lake. A voice emanated from the room. Stopping to listen, Niki realized a male news reporter was speaking.

  Niki found her mother sitting on a couch, listening to a news program on a battery-operated radio. “Mom, are you all right?” she asked, entering the room.

  Her mother kept her eyes on the radio. A reporter relayed the news that a Category Four hurricane had hit landfall in the Gulf Coast island city of Galveston, Texas. Meteorologists had named the hurricane Oscar. The winds were blasting at 120 miles per hour.

  Niki couldn’t believe what she was hearing:

  “The real scary thing about this situation is that many, many people here in Galveston were willing to evacuate but were simply unable to find the gasoline necessary to make the trip.”

  Niki’s mother turned to her. “Those poor, poor people, completely stranded there.” Her red, puffed eyes made it obvious that she’d been crying. Was it her sympathy for the people of Galveston, or something else?

  “What happened? Why is it so dark in here, Mom?”

  “Your father forgot to pay the electric bill,” her mother replied, her eyes still on the radio.

  “Forgot?” Niki questioned.

  “I don’t know if he forgot or just didn’t think they’d really turn off the electric.”

  “We have no electricity?” Niki asked, shocked.

  “Not until we pay the bill.”

  Sitting beside her mother on the couch, Niki struggled to make sense of this. “Why didn’t he pay the bill?”

  Her mother laughed wearily as she shook her head. “As I told you, he’s been out of work for the last two weeks. I thought we were living on our stock investments, but between the war in South America and the gas shortage, the stock market has been simply devastated.”

  Niki knew her dad was a stock trader, though she wasn’t all that sure what his job entailed. No matter, though; she knew that the word devastated and the term destroyed stock market weren’t good.

  “You’re okay, aren’t you?” Niki checked. “He wouldn’t hurt you, would he?”

  Her mother shook her head. “I’m all right. He’s sleeping it off now. When the lights went off, he had a complete meltdown. He’s in a panic about money. Nobody’s hiring.” She sighed deeply—Niki had never seen her look so defeated. “How was the bonfire?”

  Niki told her about the fight. “Everything was so crazy that I lost track of Tom. It seems to me that everyone is just cold and tired and looking for a fight these days.”

  “I think you’re right,” her mother agreed.

  Mentioning Tom reminded Niki that she should answer his texts and let him know she was all right. She stood to go to her room.

  Her mother turned back to the radio. A newswoman was speaking urgently. “This just in, meteorologists are tracking a Category Four hurricane that is continuing to gain force in the Caribbean off the coast of Puerto Rico. They have dubbed the storm Hurricane Pearl. There is speculation that by the time Pearl makes landfall in Miami, it could be a Category Five hurricane, which means gale force winds of over one hundred and fifty miles per hour. And what meteorologists most fear is that if Pearl sweeps across the Florida panhandle and into the Gulf to join forces with Hurricane Oscar, it could form a superhurricane, the force of which has never been seen before.”

  Niki knew she should feel safe, since she was over a thousand miles away from the storms.

  But she didn’t feel safe at all.

  NORTH COUNTRY NEWS

  High School Brawl Results in New Teen Curfew

  Fighting erupted last night at Sage Valley High’s usually peaceful yearly homecoming bonfire. For years, visiting alumni have joined with students to become reacquainted and to celebrate the approaching football game between the Sage Valley Tigers and the Marietta Mariners.

  At this year’s event, tempers flared over several incidents of gasoline siphoning. Angry words escalated to violence when a tire iron was used to smash the front windshield of Marietta’s team captain, Frank Hobart, suspected of instigating the siphoning. The window smashing was the catalyst for an all-out brawl between students from the two schools. Several students required hospitalization from injuries sustained before county police arrived to stop the fighting. Numerous arrests were made.

  Several Marietta parents, whose children and vehicles were injured, threatened legal action. These threats were met with calls for countersuits from Sage Valley parents.

  In response, the mayor of Sage Valley, Eleanor Crane, has instituted an emergency curfew, requiring Sage Valley students under the age of eighteen to be in their homes after eight o’clock. “This is a sensible measure, especially considering the general blackout conditions that have occurred in Sage Valley. It’s just safer for students to stay inside.”

  NORTH COUNTRY NEWS

  Fire on Creek Road Still

  Under Investigation

  Sage Valley’s night sky was ablaze two nights ago when an old-style wood-frame house off Creek Road caught fire. The cause of the fire is believed to be the improper storage of gasoline on the sixty-year-old home’s enclosed front porch. Charred and melted containers containing small amounts of gasoline were found when firefighters arrived. These containers did not meet guidelines approved for safe gasoline storage and have led authorities to believe that they were used to store illegally obtained gasoline.

  The homeowner, Mrs. Leila Jones, 38, a former bartender at the Happy Corners Lounge, could not be found for questioning. It has been discovered that Mrs. Jones relocated over two years ago to the state of Florida. Her neighbors said they’ve suspected Mrs. Jones was no longer at her home, but said that her children let it be known that their mother had taken ill and was bedridden.

  Also missing are Lucas Jones, 20, and Gwendolyn Jones, 17. It is not believed that either of them was home when the fire started. The house, which was about to go into foreclosure due to unpaid property taxes, was not insured, so arson is not suspected.

  Police tried to locate Gwendolyn Jones, a senior at Sage Valley High School, yesterday, but she did not arrive at school and her whereabouts remain unknown. Lucas Jones, known to frequent a motorcycle shop known as Ghost Motorcycle, was not located there, nor was he at Vinnie’s Tattoo, another of his known hangouts. Police are currently searching for these two. They may face fines for the improper storage of gasoline leading to a fire, and are also suspected of selling black market gasoline, most likely at elevated prices.

  NORTH COUNTRY NEWS

  Townships Brace for Worst as OscPearl Makes Way Up Eastern Seaboard

  The superhurricane known as OscPearl, a combination of hurricanes Oscar and Pearl, hit land in Texas last night, knock
ing out nearly all the oil refineries along the Gulf Coast. Hardest hit was the robotic refinery set out in the Gulf itself. In this robotically “manned” facility, robots labor around the clock to extract oil buried thousands of feet beneath the ocean floor. Unlike the manned refineries that produce only several hundred barrels of crude oil a day, the robotic platform drills deep enough to produce over 6,500 barrels of crude per day.

  President Waters has sent U.S. troops, including National Guardsmen, to the region, and he’s called upon the Navy to repair the robotic platform, calling OscPearl “a national emergency of the first magnitude. Rebuilding the robotic oil refinery is our number one priority.” But experts say that replacing the lost equipment, especially during the current oil crisis, will not be easily achieved.

  In our area, experts expect OscPearl to lose velocity as it moves north. They admit to being surprised that the hurricane has not yet done so, causing incredible damage to the city of Atlanta before washing away the outer bank beaches of North Carolina. The inability of residents to evacuate due to gas shortages has caused a devastating loss of life in these areas.

  Local municipalities in our region are laying in food and water supplies at local schools and shelters, but admit that food is scarce and costly due to the increased price of fuel for the trucking industry and the fact that fresh produce imported from Central and South America has been cut off due to the war. Fresh water is also in short supply. People are being encouraged to collect as much rain water as possible when OscPearl does hit, which is expected to be some time in the next four days.