by D. S. Murphy
“It’s…” I closed my eyes. “It’s Tamara.” I cleared my throat, trying to think of the best way to relay the information. “She’s lost all hope, and is determined to go out in a fire of glory. She seems to think the only way to stop what’s happening—at least in the future—is to destroy Zamonta.”
Crys looked confused. “We already knew Zamonta was responsible. That’s why Tamara exposed them.”
I wrapped my arms around myself and avoided Brett’s eyes.
“She’s planning to blow up the Zamonta building to end it for good. She thinks it’s the only way to save whatever future we have left.”
Brett shook his head. “Are you kidding me?”
“You don’t understand,” I said quickly. “You should see the future. It’s broken, Brett. No one knows how to fix it.”
“How long have you known about this?” he asked. The tiniest of veins showed through his neck.
“Well, I suspected it the last time I traveled, but—”
He grunted. “And you’re just bringing this up?”
“It’s not like I was lying,” I said. “I didn’t know what she had planned.”
Brett’s eyes darkened. “It just seems so drastic. Did either of you think Zamonta could hold the key to humanity’s survival? I mean, science created the problem. Maybe only science can fix it.”
His harsh reaction was getting on my nerves. It was my sister’s plan, not mine. I glanced up at Chry and Cody, looking in their features for signs of Jake. Wondering how long they had left to live.
“What difference does it make?” I said sharply. “That future doesn’t even have to happen. We can still change it. We have to change it.”
“At least now the witchhunt against my dad can stop,” Brett said, pushing his hair back. “I mean, your sister just publicly accused my father of something sinister, and nothing changed.”
“Just because the future’s the same doesn’t mean he’s not involved,” I said.
“But you still don’t have any proof, though, right? I mean, some weird stuff in his office. And if he was involved and the future didn’t change, it’s either because nobody took your sister seriously, or it’s because he had nothing to do with whatever actually happened. You said yourself, even in the future, nobody knew for certain what happened. Maybe this genetically modified humans bullshit is all just your sister’s fantasy. Maybe the mods came from something else entirely.”
My jaw dropped open. Brett was so infuriatingly handsome, with his tousled hair, crossed arms and defiant chin. But right now I wanted to punch him. Instead I shrugged and mirrored his posture.
“Yeah, I could have been wrong. I’m doing the best I can, with the knowledge I have.”
“It isn’t enough,” he said.
Crys gave me a ride home. She was quiet, but she kept looking over at me. I pretended not to notice. Yesterday, things had been perfect. How had things gone so wrong, so quickly?
“I understand he’s just defending his father,” I said finally. “But this is about the end of the world. It’s bigger than all of us. Right?”
Crys nodded, but she looked at me like I was a bird trying to fly with a broken wing. I turned away from her and stared out the window until we reached my house. I thanked her and ran inside before she could grill me about the future. What difference did any of it make?
The house was quiet the next morning. Dad had already left for work by the time I woke up. My brain was half numb from exhaustion when I went to bed last night, but now things came flooding back. Tamara told me I killed Chrys and Cody. That couldn’t have really happened. She was probably just trying to goad me into action. Or maybe she meant indirectly, like they’d died during the chaos because I couldn’t stop Kyle Peters. But that didn’t make her warning less chilling. If I didn’t do something drastic, and soon, things were going to get much worse.
I knew something was different when I walked into school. People were staring at me. Conversations froze when I walked past, like someone hit the pause button. I thought it was just me at first. I stopped in the bathroom to check. I’d put on light foundation to cover most of the bruises, but the black eye hadn’t fully healed. And my clothes weren’t exactly fashionable. Dark jeans, black shoes, a collared plaid shirt that clashed with the baggy mustard yellow sweater I was wearing. But that was the least of my problems.
“I’d be so embarrassed,” I heard voices say, as someone opened the door to the restroom. “I mean, having a freak like that for a sister, talking about the end of the world.”
“Courtney says crazy must run in her family,” another voice said. The bathroom filled up with laughter but it cut out suddenly when they saw me. I shoved past them and nearly ran into Courtney, standing just outside the door.
“What’s the rush, Chicken Little?” she asked.
She was standing with a few of the seniors. Brett’s locker was just down the hall, and I locked eyes with him. I don’t know what I was hoping for, but when he grabbed his books and headed the other direction, I felt a crushing disappointment. Coward.
“Cat got your tongue?” Courtney pushed, getting in my face again.
“Believe what you want,” I said. “At least if the world does end, I won’t have to put up with your bullshit any more.”
Her voice carried after me down the hall.
“Whatever psycho, have fun in your imaginary apocalypse.”
I hurried to my locker and found Tracy waiting for me, leaning against the wall.
“If you’re going to be an asshole again, save it,” I said. “I can’t deal right now.”
“I saw your sister on the news. Checked out her website. What she’s saying about Zamonta, the predictions, the lottery tickets—it’s you, right? It’s all you.”
I nodded, tentatively.
“I’m in,” he said.
My face lit up with relief and I hugged him.
“Easy,” he said, pushing me away and looking down the hallway. “Wouldn’t want to give people the wrong idea. This is high school, remember?”
I grinned at him and then grabbed his arm. I pulled him outside to an area between the buildings where I knew we’d be alone.
“You believe me?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “They didn’t even mention the third lottery ticket on TV, the numbers you gave me. Winning three times in a row is beyond impossible. So what’s the play? Your sister said we needed to stop Kyle Peters.”
“Yeah, she’s a little obsessed with that. Future Tamara wants me to take him out.”
“What, like—” Tracy made a slashing motion over his neck.
I nodded and his eyes widened.
“That seems a bit extreme,” Tracy said. “Has anyone tried just talking to him?”
I gaped at him.
“I mean, if I was going to make a huge mistake and accidentally destroy the world, I’d want someone to tell me. So I could, you know, not.”
“I don’t think he’d listen to me,” I said. “Maybe if Brett talked to him, though I don’t think he’s keen on the idea. He still thinks his father is innocent.”
I pulled a notebook out of my backpack. I’d scribbled down the numbers and predictions as soon as I got home yesterday. I circled one and then tore out the page and handed it to Tracy.
“Play these numbers,” I said. “Get your dad to claim them. Tell him he can keep a portion, whatever is reasonable for his help. I need a private account I can access. And we need to start buying property in Defiance.”
“How much?” Tracy asked.
“All of it,” I grinned. It was a small triumph, but it felt good to have Tracy on my side at last.
“Anything else?” he asked.
“Yes… you’re going to start building the coolest house in the world on your dad’s property. With a garage full of guns, and a helicopter.”
“I like this plan,” Tracy said, his eyes lighting up.
“I’ll make you a shopping list. Basically, you need to be prepar
ed for everything. Underground hangars full of supplies and food. Defiance is the main plan, but I don’t know what’s going to happen. You’re the failsafe.”
I went to lunch with a newfound confidence.
I found Chrys first.
“Tracy’s in,” I said, grabbing her arm.
We found Brett and Cody and headed to what I was beginning to think of our table.
“We checked Tamara’s website,” Cody said, pulling up his phone. It’s gotten over a hundred thousand visits since the news report on Saturday. And articles with her picture are everywhere.”
Cody flicked through a few of them. I scoffed at one of the titles, Does being vegan let you see the future?
“Okay,” I said. “So we got their attention.”
“A lot of people still think it’s BS, but it’s hard to argue with the facts. This week the other prophecies she mentioned on air will come true, then the rest of the things listed on her website. Now that people are watching closely, they’ll be able to see that she was right.”
“I brought back more lottery tickets,” I said. “I’m going to set up accounts for each of you, we’ll start with $100,000 each. So you can buy your own supplies, protect your families, prepare for the worst.”
“You don’t sound optimistic,” Chrys frowned.
“Maybe we can still stop things. I don’t know anymore. But just in case we don’t, you should have some emergency funds.”
Brett actually scowled this time, but he didn’t argue. He was uncharacterstically quiet actually. Brooding, almost. I thought he was still pissed at me from yesterday, though I don’t know why—it’s not my fault that Tamara named his father on national TV. And it’s not like I was making any of this up. Brett would just have to deal with it.
When the bell rang, Brett grabbed my arm and held me back.
“I’ve got to tell you something,” he said. He looked so miserable I actually felt sorry for him. Had he changed his mind about the dance? Did he regret asking me?
“I didn’t know how to tell the others, but I overheard my dad talking with his lawyer last night. They’re planning to sue for slander and defamation, for what Tamara said on the show.”
I gave him a blank look, and he continued.
“They’ll go after the lottery winnings.”
“How much of it?” I asked.
“All of it,” he said.
***
Chrys dropped me off at home after school, and the door opened to the wonderful aroma of melting cheese, which was weird. Cooking wasn’t exactly a thing at our house. I walked into the kitchen and saw my dad wearing an apron and humming some type of bluesy song.
I tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped slightly, startled to see me. Then he smiled and wiped his hand on his apron. I raised my eyebrows at the apron, but he ignored my amused expression.
“I’m making pizza rolls,” he said. “And trying to get less sauce on my clothes. Deal with it.”
He poured me a glass of water and motioned for me to sit down. I fidgeted with the glass while he took the rolls out of the oven. They really did smell amazing. My mouth watered just looking at them. He plated the rolls and put them at the center of the table. Steam rose out of every roll.
He looked aged under the kitchen light. I could see every wrinkle. His scruff greyed slightly and light shadows formed under his eyes. He sighed and sat down beside me and blew on a pizza roll, then handed it to me. He used to do that when I was younger. When my mother was alive. My breath caught in my throat and I abruptly stood up and wrapped my arms around his neck, holding back tears.
He patted me on the back. “What’s wrong honey?”
We’d made so much progress, and it was all being taken away from us. If Kyle got his hands on the lottery money, then we couldn’t build Defiance. If we couldn’t build Defiance, and Zamonta’s epic screw-up happened anyway, none of us would survive. On the other hand, even with Defiance, Cody and Chrys hadn’t made it. Not to mention my dad. Tamara hadn’t told me what had actually happened to him. A tear slid down my cheek, but I couldn’t tell my dad what was really going on, so I told him a half-truth.
“I miss mom,” I said.
My dad loosened his hold and looked at me. “Honey…”
I wiped the tear from my face. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been thinking about her a lot lately, and I realized how much I miss her.
He breathed out slowly. “Don’t ever apologize for missing your mom,” he said sadly. “I miss her too, kiddo.” Another tear fell and he reached up and brushed it away. “I know it’s been hard for both of you. I wish I could do more for you.”
“You’ve already done enough dad,” I said, choking up. “You’ve done everything.”
He smiled at me and I smiled back. He held up the roll again and I laughed. I popped the roll in my mouth and the cheese melted on my tongue. My eyes widened as I chewed slowly, savoring every bite. “Dad, this is delicious. I didn’t know you could cook.”
He looked offended. “You’re exaggerating.”
I shrugged. “You should cook more often.”
“Maybe I will,” he said, grabbing a roll for himself.
After we devoured the rolls in minutes, I sat back, feeling a little happier after the starch-overload.
“I’m going to change into sweats,” I said.
“Check your closet,” Dad said. “Tamara left something for you. We went out and got it this morning.”
In my closet I found a garment bag with a note from Tamara.
Just in case you get asked.
Inside was an a light gray, sleeveless dress. I held it up against me in the mirror. It was elegant and understated. Colorless, but with a handful of dark sequins and a small bow in the front. Like it was too cool to try and be pretty. I loved it. I wasn’t sure if Brett even wanted to go to the dance with me anymore, but picturing us showing up to the dance together flooded my stomach with a wave of butterflies. It couldn’t hurt to try it on.
The dress hugged my waist and revealed my bare shoulders. I smiled, pulling up my hair into a bun, but then saw the panic in my own eyes as the pink and orange flames crept into my vision. The mirror shattered, spreading pieces of jagged glass across the floor of my room. The carpet under my feet sagged and wilted, until I could feel the hard wood of the floorboards. I moved to the broken window and looked at the darkness outside, listening to the rustling leaves.
I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the shards of glass and felt stupid in my dress. It was ridiculously impractical. I thought of Meredith and Annabelle, which made me think of all the girls at Defiance who would never have a chance to get taken to a school dance, or kiss their crush. Or the remants I’d seen, the tiny skeleton in the purple dress outside of Brett’s house on my first trip. Or the girl at school with the pink backpack. I felt warm, and a crushing wave of guilt washed over me. I was responsible for all of it, and I was playing dress up and thinking about boys.
The walls felt like they were closing in, so I hurried downstairs, wincing as the broken glass cut into my bare feet. The dark shape on the sofa in the living room startled me, and I froze on the last step. Then gently put my feet down, and held my breath as I crept towards the seated figure.
“Dad?” I asked, my voice breaking. Because I knew. Even before I reached out and touched his shoulder, and his skull rolled to an unnatural angle.
27
“Beautiful,” Dad said. “Turn around so I can see.”
The vision passed, and I was standing in the living room next to the couch. Dad was in the kitchen finishing the dishes. I turned slowly, trying to keep the horrified expression off my face before fleeing up the stairs. I choked back a sob once I’d reached my bedroom. Then I tore off the dress and stuffed it back into the bag.
I had to do something.
How could my dad’s body just be left to rot like that? I’d been too focused on warning people, or on Defiance. Maybe future Tamara was right, it wasn’t enough. But that didn’t mean
I had to kill Kyle—why couldn’t we just tell him the truth, like Tracy said today? Brett was too much of a chicken to stand up to his own father, but I wasn’t. Maybe someone just needed to talk with him. Had my feelings for Brett made me hesitate? Was I not trying as hard as I could to change things, because I wanted him to like me? The thought made me sick to my stomach.
I’d been seduced by Defiance, the city that was almost too beautiful to be real. And Jake, and Annabelle… maybe part of me hadn’t really wanted to change the future. But Tamara was right. There was nothing worth saving. The future was just pain and suffering waiting to happen.
Thunder rolled in the distance, but I knew I couldn’t wait any longer. If I didn’t do something right now, Tamara was going to kill Kyle in the future. She said she’d get the girls out first, but what if something went wrong? What if Jake or Meredith got hurt? None of it had to happen.
I convinced Tracy. Maybe I could convince Mr. Peters. I just had to make him understand what was at stake, and prove it with undeniable evidence. He was a scientist, he’d have to believe me if I showed him enough hard data. But we were running out of time. I couldn’t just play dress up and go to high school dances. I needed to act, now.
I changed into jeans and a black sweater, then piled pillows under my blanket in a roughly humanoid shape before climbing out the window. I didn’t exactly have a plan, but the fire in my stomach forced me forward. I couldn’t sit back and do nothing. Not anymore. I grabbed my bike and pedalled through the quiet, dark streets. The air was cold and charged with static electricity. When I reached Zamonta, I caught my breath in the parking lot. A flash of lightning lit up the building. A few moments later, thunder rumbled a warning. I tried the door we’d entered the first time, but it was locked. Without Brett’s keycard, there was no way I could get inside. But I didn’t need to sneak in this time. I headed to the front door and stood in full view of the cameras, willing the doors to open. After five minutes, my own sweat was freezing on my body and I started to shiver. Still I waited. Then, finally, I heard the lock click open. I pushed through the doors into the lobby. The front desk was empty; the guard must be on his rounds. Suddenly I realized Mr. Peters might not even be here. It was late, after all. Most of the other employees had already gone home for the day.