Grinning at the back of his long, straight hair, I slowly rub a finger against his palm. The touch is intimate, and he stumbles for a moment, but doesn’t look back. Instead, he squeezes my hand three times, and for some reason, it feels like he’s saying I love you.
Chapter Thirty-Four
While Daddy calls an emergency town meeting this morning, the rest of us divvy up supplies, such as extra sleeping bags, candles, matches, and food. If the orbs from last night come to Callahan, at least extra supplies will be safely stored in the cellar. That’s the hope, anyhow.
“What do you think those spaceships want?” Kat asks while hugging an armload of bagged jars to her chest. Her eyes are wider than usual, like a nervous bird ready to take flight at any moment.
Carefully, I shift my own load to a hipbone and run my fingers along the cold, cement wall as I descend the cellar’s short, narrow stairs.
On a shelf near the back, a small candle throws enough light to keep me from stumbling into anything. Rich earth, moisture, and dank wood fills my nostrils, reminding me of how much has changed since Sissy and I used to help Mamma stock these shelves when we were little.
When I get to the bottom of the stairs, I set my bag onto a nearby table and turn to help Kat. “Dunno, squirt.” I ease it from her skinny arms and set it next to the other. “Maybe they just want to drive by and say hi.” My tone’s light because I don’t want her to worry. She’s only nine years old and on top of not having a mother, she’s had to deal with her crappy dad stranded in another state and living in an apocalyptic world set back by a couple hundred years.
“Don’t fret about it, Kat.” Max, already inside, grabs a couple of jars and lines them on a shelf, which dips in the middle from the added weight. “You let us take care of it, okay? As your big brother, it’s my job to take care of you.”
She gives him a solemn nod. “Okay.” Turning to a bag, she digs for more, her little tongue poking the side of her mouth in intense concentration.
He grins, then pops his stress ball against my head. “I’ll take care of both of you.”
I swipe the soft, spongy thing from the air. “Ah, how sweet of you to take care of the girls.” Fluttering my lashes, I raise my voice an octave. “Why, Kat, whatever would we do if there weren’t a man around to protect us.” With a dramatic sigh, I pretend to sway on my feet and close my eyes as if I’m fainting.
Kat’s laughter is beautiful, like little bubbles bouncing against the wall, full of light and air.
Rock-hard arms twine around my chest, slide around my ribcage, and connect at my back.
My eyelids fly open.
In the muted glow of the candlelight, Max’s stare is intense and vulnerable. “I’m going to do my best.”
The breath catches in my throat. He seems so serious right now, and his arms wrapped around me are comfortable—too comfortable.
“Yuck. Are you guys gonna kiss?”
“Hell no,” I say, pushing against his hold, fire rushing in my veins and settling on my face.
“Yes,” he answers at the same time, a twinkle in his eyes.
Lowering his neck, his face pushes towards mine and I stop struggling.
My entire body flushes and the pulse whooshes in my ears. I lick my lips and stare at his mouth. He really is a sweet guy, even though he tries to act tough.
“What the fuck is going on down here?” Daddy roars.
Max and I spring away from each other like being launched from a slingshot.
Shit. I didn’t think he’d be back from the meeting so soon.
“We’ve got spaceships flying around shooting at people and you two can’t keep your hands off of each other?” His face is haggard, and I immediately feel horrible. “I thought I could trust y’all to keep level heads.”
“It wasn’t what it looked like. He—”
“Shut it, Tilly.” Daddy grabs a sack with a rough jerk and begins dumping the jars into a pile on the old, paint-peeled shelves. “Patrol is doing everything it can to keep up with the influx of refugees since last night. I don’t have time to babysit you. Start acting like an adult.”
He slams the jars into place, his movements harsh and quick.
Max grimaces. “You’re right, sir. We shouldn’t have been playing around. Do you want us to take an extra shift?”
“What I want,” Daddy’s shoulders slump, but he keeps his back to the three of us, “is to wake up from this nightmare and know my daughters and wife are safe. What I want is a goddamn cigarette. What I want is for things to go back to the way they used to be.”
Hearing him admit these feelings opens a hole inside of me. He rarely shows emotion, but I can hear the pain and uncertainty in his voice even while he keeps it under tight control. This hurts me more than if he were to break down and cry.
I move to his back and slide myself under his arm, wrapping around his stomach. His smoky smell doesn’t bother me this time. “I’m sorry.”
“No, Half-pint.” He twists around and places a kiss on the top of my head, then leans his cheek on my hair. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so damn tough. I’ve got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”
“It’s okay. You’re right, though. We should be taking this more seriously.” I release him and watch his face, noticing new lines of worry creasing his forehead.
“Come on.” He steers me toward the opening, where bright, dappled sunshine warms the small staircase, then throws his other arm around Kat. “Let’s go get a bite to eat and I’ll fill you in on everything.”
Max follows, shutting the heavy metal door and clicking the padlock to keep the cellar and our survival gear secure.
Over homemade bread, I slather strawberry preserves across its surface, then hand the jar to Kat. Max passes a half-full tub of peanut butter my way, and I spread a thin layer on the opposite slice. Mashing them together, I bite into the sandwich, relishing the freshness of the preserves and the crusty outer shell of the bread. This whole process is repeated around the table between the five of us.
After a few minutes of chewing, Daddy clears his throat. “So, with what happened last night, patrol couldn’t keep turning people away.” He takes another bite, then swallows, using the tip of a finger to pick up tiny crumbs from the table, then flicks them to the floor. “But Callahan isn’t equipped to deal with thousands of people, either.”
“What if camps were set up outside the fence?” I ask, wiping a corner of my mouth with the back of a hand.
Kat’s gaze bounces between the four of us while she swings her legs under the table, the soft click-click-click of her knee hitting a wooden leg and thumping the plates on top.
“Kat, stop kicking your feet, it’s annoying.” Max gives her a stern glare.
She sticks out her tongue but stops the movement.
“Mr. Morgan, do you know how many people were killed by those things?”
“No, but from what most say, not many. It seemed like the lasers only grazed most, barely causing any damage at all.” With two quick bites, Daddy stuffs his cheeks, chews, then rubs his beard in thought. “It’s strange, and I’m not sure what to make of it. And last night wasn’t the first time. Apparently, this started the night before in the southern part of town. During the day, it seems the orbs don’t come out.”
“Why would they go to the trouble of disabling our electronics, then wait almost a year before revealing themselves, only to shoot a few lasers to scare us?” I shake my head, pull Max’s stress ball from my pocket, and squeeze, imagining it absorbing the uncomfortable feeling growing in my stomach.
His eyes squint at me, and I offer a tiny, knowing smile. I stole your favorite toy and there’s nothing you can do about it. I almost laugh at the look of frustration on his face, glad for the distraction, then remember Daddy’s earlier scolding and focus on the conversation at hand.
“I dunno why they’d disable our power grid, Half-pint, unless it’s to keep tight control over the world.”
“Did… did you
say it seemed like they were forcing the crowd into a building, Tilly?” Mamma asks while shoving a half-eaten sandwich around on her plate.
“Yeah, why?” A blob of peanut butter sits on mine. I scoop it with the back of my thumb and lick it away.
“Heathen,” Max whispers under his breath.
“Thief,” I mutter back, giving him a side-eye.
With a pointed look, he stares at the little blue stress-reliever, then back to my face.
He gets a wink from me.
“I’m not sure yet, but it sounds like it’s deliberate, and if so, the action should be worrisome enough.” She leans against the back of her chair and glances out the window. “It almost feels like it’s a new wave they’re unleashing, but of what, I don’t know. And that’s the scariest thing of all.”
“Well.” Daddy throws his napkin onto the table and stands. “If the shit hits the fan, we can survive in the cellar for a month, maybe more.” He walks to Mamma and stands behind her, massaging her shoulders. “Which reminds me… I’m about to take an extra shift, but while I’m gone, you guys need to fill up every extra container you can find with well water and move them out there.”
I nod.
“Tilly and Max,” he points between both of us, “I want you guys to stay here and help, then take the evening shift together at the east tower. Be careful. I’ve got some stuff I’m going to take care of, but I’ll be back to help with the watch right after dark.” He whispers something into Mamma’s ear, and she nods. He glances up. “Take a flare gun. If those vessels show up, you know what to do. I’ll get Mr. Miller to come over and help keep an eye on the house.”
What he really means is to keep an eye on Mamma and Kat, and I love him for his strength and protective nature. But still—Mr. Miller? The dude was probably alive when Moses parted the Red Sea.
“Do you think that old geezer is capable of protection up close? Don’t get me wrong. I love his cranky old butt—”
“Half-pint, he was a Ranger in ‘Nam. Trust me, he’s capable of a lot more than you give him credit for.”
“Okay.” I stand and clear my dish from the table. “I believe you.”
“Get a nap if you can. I don’t know what the next few days are going to bring, but I have a feeling sleep isn’t going to be on the list.” With that, he gives Mamma a gentle nudge and they head into the bedroom and shut the door.
I really hope they’re going in there to get some sleep and not something else. Barf.
“Well, I guess we can get started on the water haul.” I stretch my arms to the ceiling, working the kinks from my muscles.
“Just what I wanted to be—a water boy for the both of you.” Max tweaks Kat’s nose and heads into the kitchen.
An army of those black, drone-like spheres flying over my town appears in my mind’s eye and I shudder.
Please, God, I want this to be a dream, too. Let me wake up, okay?
Chapter Thirty-Five
Max and I huddle in the guard tower, him watching toward the north and east, me keeping an eye on the other directions. Below, eight others man the heavy, rough-barked gates and the surrounding tall wooden fence. I absolutely hate heights, and it took weeks for me to build the courage to climb the ten-foot tower ladder after enduring incessant goading and ridicule by Max. I still hate climbing the thing, but there’s no way in hell I’ll let him know.
Rusty barrels filled with old wood and trash burn on either side on the double-gate, casting flickering shadows across the guard’s faces.
Max adjusts his binoculars, carefully panning the sky. “Everything up there looks good so far.” He lowers his gaze to the outer street past the gate, which leads toward Eulan and Abilene. “A group of five heading this way. Wait, make that six.”
“Any kids?” I focus on the direction he points.
“Nope. All adults as far as I can tell.”
The moon casts a sliver of watery light, and it’s enough to see those walking toward the gate are around the same height. Farther out, makeshift tents or structures have sprung up around the town. Earlier, I counted twenty-three so far, and that’s at this gate. Who knows what the other gates look like.
I don’t know how we’re going to support all these people if they keep coming. And why would they think they’d be safer here? But I imagine they’re just as scared of living in the wild, with no one to lean on. Maybe they think a smaller community won’t grab the orbs’ attention. I hope they’re right.
Lowering his binoculars, Max props a long rifle on his shoulder and sights the adults heading to the barrier. “Six As,” he yells to the guards.
“Roger.” One of the women answers, then climbs a ladder propped against the wall to address the oncoming group of refugees over the top of the fence. “We’re not taking any more tonight, guys. You’ll have to make camp outside.”
“Are you kidding?” says a deep, masculine voice.
At my angle, I can only see the top of the man’s head, which doesn’t equate to anything since it’s almost pitch black. Max leans farther out of the tower’s half-wall, the tip of his rifle fixed on the group.
We’ve never had to shoot someone, thank goodness. Most nights are quiet because people aren’t usually running from spaceships. Is this really happening? How has my world gone from worrying about college and getting out of this tiny town to accepting dangerous aliens—or their drones—are invading Earth, along with decimating humanity’s progress over the past two centuries?
“Sir, I assure you I’m not kidding,” the woman answers. I think her name is Deborah or Delinda. She served with Daddy at Dyess in Abilene. Before she’d retired, she’d commanded its Security Forces. “As I said, feel free to camp outside the gates. We’re keeping an eye on the sky.”
“Well, great. I feel better already.” There’s a thud and rattle of wood, as if he punches the gate. “If those things swoop in, you won’t have time to fight back—they’re too fast. I’ve seen them disappear into thin air, then reappear half a mile away. And if they start shooting”—he coughs and clear his throat—“we’re all dead.”
From my vantage point, it’s hard to see faces, but several guards tilt their heads while others murmur into one another’s ears.
“Open this damn gate,” the man yells. “We need shelter for tonight, then we’ll move on tomorrow.”
“Hold up.” Daddy’s voice pulls my attention from the crowd. He cycles forward, then drops his ride to the bar ditch. Huffing slightly, he inhales a deep breath. “Don’t let anyone else in. At all. This comes all the way from the mayor.”
Shifting metal can be heard as men and women reposition their weapons on the closed gate.
I turn to Max and lay a hand on his shoulder. “You good?”
“Yep.” He nods, keeping his focus on the other side. “Don’t break your clumsy neck going down.” A secret grin widens his lips.
“Asshat.” Scrambling toward the earth as fast as possible, I jump to the dirt, eager to find out what’s going on.
Daddy gives me a quick hug then turns to everyone. “I know it’s hard, but for now, our orders are to turn everyone away, including families.”
“We understand, sir.” Deborah or Delinda leans closer. I’m going to go with Deborah. “May I ask why, though? I don’t think any of us relish the thought of kids out there in the cold.”
Shaking his head, Daddy’s stare drifts to the tall gates. “No, I don’t like it either, but the ones who came in earlier are showing signs of some kind of sickness.”
“What?” I stare at the road leading to town, as if I can see who he’s talking about. “What do you mean?”
“I think that’s why…” he lets out a long sigh and rubs a temple, “why the ships rounded people up, because they’re releasing some kind of bio-weapon and ensuring it spreads with close proximity.”
My heart falls to my feet. “But Max and I were out there…” Dear God, what if we brought back some kind of germ? It doesn’t matter, though, because several g
roups of people have already come inside the town.
Deborah shifts her feet. “What kind of sickness is it?”
“The clinic had four patients brought in this evening—all Abilene survivors. Doc Kemperling is treating them for intestinal viruses, but even with IVs and medication, they’re getting sicker—not better.”
A small bit of relief loosens my chest. Max and I haven’t been sick, and if it’s just a stomach bug, surely it won’t be a big deal.
“I understand.” She nods and joins the rest of the team near the gate. The man on the other side is still hollering, but no one pays him any mind.
“Another group incoming.” Max keeps his gun pointed toward the man’s group but twists his head to stare down at Daddy and me. “And it’s a large one. At least twenty so far.”
“Son of a bitch.” Clambering up the ladder, my dad joins him.
Not one to be left behind, I follow, cramming myself into the small space between him and Max. “What happens if more come? We can’t keep turning them away.”
“Yes, we can.” Max’s voice is hard. “If they’re carrying plague, they could make our whole town sick, which will leave it exposed. Plus, what if the virus is deadly?” The grip on his weapon tightens, and even in the darkness, his knuckles turn white. “If it comes between choosing those survivors or my sister and you guys, then well, it’s really not much of a choice.”
“Give me your binoculars, Half-pint.”
Like a robot, I pull them from around my neck and hand them to my dad. Surely these people aren’t carrying sickness, are they? “But it’s just a stomach bug.” Weak and breathy, my voice sounds like a scared kid, and I hate myself for it. “Those rarely ever kill anyone, right?”
“Well, when our world wasn’t crippled, sure, they weren’t usually a big deal.” Daddy palms a cigarette box. “Damn it, this is my last one.” Scowling at the package, he jerks it out, pokes it between his lips, and lights it with his zippo. After a deep inhale, he pockets the lighter and raises the binoculars to get a better view of the countryside, the cancer stick hanging from the side of his mouth. “Remember a few years ago when the pandemic threw everything into chaos? Imagine something like that, except with a much higher death rate, spreading across the globe without any high-tech medical gear, drugs, or vaccines to combat it.”
The Intrusion: Baltin Prequel Page 19
