by Tate, Harley
Los Angeles, California
Friday, 8:00 a.m. PST
Keith caught a bead of sweat with the back of his hand seconds before it slid down his eyelid. Morning in Los Angeles. Another hazy vista of smog and palm trees mixed with the smell of exhaust and desperation.
A woman in a beat-up Honda hatchback honked at a twenty-something on a scooter as he inched through the traffic. She rolled down her window and lobbed a wad of curses in his general direction. The guy didn’t even look up from his phone.
Across the street, a gaggle of TV and movie hopefuls waited for a bus heading to Hollywood. Jailbait with brown roots and blonde ends clutched a manila folder of headshots to her chest. A pair of gym rats tried to catch her eye, flexing and preening like peacocks on steroids.
So many people hustling. So many people trying to catch a break. Not me. Not a chance.
As his feet pounded down the broken sidewalks, Keith couldn’t have cared less about Hollywood. He had a steady job as a cameraman for the local news, a decent apartment, and a damn good dog. On cue, Bear smiled up at him, shaggy fur bouncing up and down as he kept pace beside him. Two years old and still content to go on a morning run, eat a bowl of food, and pass out on the floor.
To be a dog.
Together, they ran past a ramen noodle shack and a retro car wash, a Goodwill, and a closed car mechanic. Eighty years ago, Wilshire Boulevard and the surrounding area had been at the cutting edge: left-turn signals and timed traffic lights, and the first streets designed for automobiles instead of pedestrians. The beginnings of Los Angeles as a car town.
City planners of the 1930s and 1940s never anticipated thousands of commuters and the resulting wall-to-wall traffic. It was the main reason Keith lived in the city. He squeezed into a studio apartment, but a bus stopped right outside and arrived two blocks from his work half an hour later.
It wasn’t a bad life, all things considered.
The light turned green and Keith and his dog crossed the street before ducking inside the resident parking garage for his building. Bypassing the front entrance, they opted to take the fire stairs in the back up three floors. As Keith opened his door, Bear sneaked past him and headed straight to his water bowl. Water splashed over the rim and onto the linoleum as he lapped and slurped and wagged his tail.
Keith dropped his keys on the counter and stepped around the growing puddle. “You’re going to clean all that up, right?”
The dog wagged harder and Keith reached for the TV remote with a smile.
“—another glorious day here at the KSBF Studios in Los Angeles. We’re looking at clear skies and a high of 74 degrees. Enjoy it!”
“Thanks, Dave. Now on to the top stories. Riots continue this morning outside city hall…”
Keith tuned out the rest as he tugged open the fridge and pulled a can of cold-brew coffee off the shelf. He chugged it while the morning news anchor grinned his way through a litany of terrible stories. Same problems, different day. He didn’t know how the anchors did it. Keith could scowl his way through a steady camera shot and no viewer would be the wiser. But to put his face out there? To be the news?
No way.
The sound of metal clanging against the floor made Keith snort. “I haven’t forgotten your breakfast, don’t worry.” He bent down and gave Bear a scratch before filling the dog’s bowl with dry kibble. As he stood up, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He tugged it out and swiped open to read the text.
Daphne: I don’t think this is working out.
Keith gave a start. What isn’t?
Daphne: Us. Our relationship.
His brow pinched as he stared at Daphne’s text. They’d only been dating a few weeks, but he thought it had been going well. She liked the outdoors and keeping in shape and had even talked about settling down and starting a family. All of Keith’s main requirements in a girlfriend. Why break up now?
Another text from Daphne popped up on the screen. I think we’re better as friends.
His thumbs flew across the phone. So you’re breaking up with me. Via text.
Daphne: Sorry. Hope you find someone! XOXO.
Keith tossed the phone on the counter. Another one bites the dust. Ever since breaking up with Lainey last year, Keith hadn’t managed to find a single woman worthwhile. He’d thought Daphne could be a contender, but obviously not.
Bear licked his bowl across the floor and it banged into Keith’s ankle. He sighed and bent down to pick up the slobbery mess. “Guess it’s just you and me again, buddy.” Bear barked in agreement and the tension tightening Keith’s neck eased. Dogs always managed to bring out the best in people.
He gave his best friend a scratch. Keith had planned to shower, head to the store, and pick up flowers before meeting Daphne for lunch. Now that she’d blown him off without so much as a phone call, his day was wide open. “How’s a marathon of Pardon the Interruption sound? I’ll even let you sleep on the couch.”
Bear’s tail thumped against the floor.
“Excellent.” As Keith stood in front of the fridge, debating the merits of another coffee or a breakup beer, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen and his face fell. His boss. Great. “Hey, John.”
“Get your butt down to the station, ASAP. Jerry’s got the flu so we’re short a cameraman for the midday news cycle.”
Keith groaned. “You know this is my first day off in weeks, right?”
“Not anymore, it isn’t.”
“Can’t Mike cover it?”
John’s tone edged into irritation. “He’s already here pulling a double.”
“Fine.” Keith shut the fridge and checked the clock on the wall. “I’ll be there by ten.”
“Thanks, man. I owe you one.”
Right. Keith ended the call and turned to Bear. “Sorry, big guy. Looks like you’ll be on your own today.”
Bear sprawled across the kitchen, tongue lolled out to the side, sliming up the floor. At least they’d already gone for a run. The dog could sleep the day away and with any luck, Keith would be home in time for a late dinner. Maybe he’d even give the fur ball Daphne’s share of food.
With one last rub of Bear’s belly, Keith clicked off the TV and hustled to the shower.
KSBF Studios
12:45 p.m. PST
The camera lens focused on the green screen for the weather as the midday meteorologist droned on, smile plastered to her face. She pointed at an expanse of nothing as she talked about a high-pressure system forming outside the Valley. Keith exhaled and zoomed out, waiting for the commercial break.
As a staffer called out the all clear, a pair of heels clacked across the floor. Keith turned. Lainey Sinclair. Blonde hair fell across her shoulders. Red lipstick offset the blue of her eyes. A simple sheath dress drew attention to her face instead of her perfect figure. He swallowed. She would always be the one who got away.
She jerked her head up and her eyes met his for a moment. Even after they broke up, Lainey smiled every time they ran into each other, one of those reporter instincts Keith never wrapped his head around. But not today. Her eyebrows knit and she glanced down at her phone, lighting up the screen with a tap of her thumb.
Was something wrong?
Keith watched her ease into the prep chair for last minute hair and makeup. For the past two months, Lainey held the spot of midday second anchor, chairing the hour of news reserved for fluff pieces and special interest spots. She hated every minute of it. All Lainey wanted was to report the news, to be the voice of journalism and break the stories before anyone else had a chance. But she was willing to sit behind a desk and drone on about nothing important if it meant a promotion.
It was an outlook Keith didn’t share and the main reason they broke up. The job—not just reporting, but being a TV personality—came first for Lainey. Above friends and family and even her own day-to-day satisfaction. She wanted to be the face of news in Los Angeles and if that meant she had to sit at a desk and wax poetic about the benefits of hot yoga or the
latest recipe for post-workout smoothies, so be it.
While the hair stylist touched up and sprayed, Lainey stared at her phone, oblivious to everything around her. The first hour wrapped and the producer called for her to take her place. She didn’t hear him.
On the third try, she finally glanced up and waved an apology, rushing to the desk and sliding into the seat less than a minute before air. Lainey smiled into the camera, but her eyes betrayed her. The sparkle she could command at a whim was gone.
Something was definitely going on.
Chapter Two
LAINEY
KSBF Studios
Los Angeles, California
Friday, 1:52 p.m. PST
“This is Lainey Sinclair. Thank you for watching. We will be back at six with your local evening news.”
“And we’re out.”
Lainey pulled off her mic and pushed away from the desk. Running the second hour of local news after everyone had either tuned out or changed the channel wasn’t her idea of a good time. But if working her way up required starting at the bottom, she would do it.
After leaving her desk job at an internet magazine that wasn’t going anywhere fast, she had taken the job at KSBF with the promise of quick career advancement. Three years later and the shine of that promise had worn off, but she wasn’t ready to give up. All she needed was a break.
She stood up as the closest cameraman came over to take her mic. “Good job today, Ms. Sinclair.”
“Thanks, Mike.” Lainey smiled and walked over to the wall of desks and mirrors that qualified as a green room at the station. She pulled her phone out of her bag and checked for messages. Nothing.
Rick hadn’t gotten back to her and every call she made to her sister went straight to voicemail. She checked her watch. Almost five o’clock eastern time. That was more than enough time for her sister to make it to Chicago and Rick to sniff around his contacts in New York.
Had they both gotten in trouble? Was the attack real and already happening? Lainey bit her lipsticked lower lip and frowned at the waxy taste. One of them should have called.
She dialed Rick’s number. Straight to voicemail. She texted her sister. Undeliverable.
Lainey exhaled in frustration. I can’t just wait around. I have to do something.
Heat rose across her cheeks and she glanced up to find Keith watching her. He pulled off his headphones and made a motion to come over but she shook her head. She couldn’t deal with Keith right now. Not when she didn’t know if Midge was down the rabbit hole of crazy or whether the threat was real. One question from the only guy who’d ever been able to see through her professional veneer and she would lose it.
Not happening. Not today.
If people needed to evacuate, she wasn’t going to stand there fretting over whether the story had teeth. The residents of Los Angeles needed to know. And if she were the one to break the story… Maybe the nightly news desk wouldn’t be out of reach.
Lainey squared her shoulders and settled her nerves. She walked past the mirrors and the crew now hanging out and trading insults in the rear of the studio. The executive offices were perched along the outside of the building with views of the city, and Lainey stopped outside Charles Trenton’s door. The head of the news department. The big man on campus. The one person who could pluck her from backup daytime anchor and turn her into a star.
With an inhale, she plastered on a smile and knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
Lainey pushed the door open.
Charles didn’t look up. “What is it?”
Lainey focused on the stack of papers in the man’s hand. “Hi, sir. I… ah… wanted to run a potential story by you.”
His eyes flicked up. “Did you hit your head this morning, Lainey?”
Her smile faltered. “No.”
“Then why are you in here interrupting my day?”
She swallowed. “It’s big. Could be world-changing. I thought you were the person to talk to about it.”
He tilted his head and leaned back in his executive leather chair. It rocked back and forth. “Is that so?”
“Yes, sir.” Lainey couldn’t tell if he was staring at her because he was impressed by her tenacity or amused that she was such an idiot.
Charles set his papers down and steepled his fingers. “So tell me. What’s so big that you broke protocol to knock on my door instead of going to the head of your department first?”
Guess he isn’t impressed.
Lainey balled her hands into fists. She refused to let him see her shake. “I have credible evidence that a terrorist attack against the United States is imminent.”
He tapped his fingers together. “Is that so?”
“Yes. The twenty-five largest cities are the targets in a coordinated attack.”
“And what would be the device?”
“Nuclear weapons, sir.”
Her boss’s fingers stopped tapping. “Who’s behind it?”
“I don’t know.”
“When will it happen?”
“I don’t know that, either.”
“Who’s your source?”
“Confidential.”
He rolled his head around in a circle before leaning forward. His elbows came to rest on the massive slab of oak he called a desk. “Let me get this straight. You’ve come to me with claims of a massive terrorist attack involving nuclear weapons targeting twenty-five cities in the US?”
“The largest cities, yes, sir.”
“But you don’t know when, or why, and you can’t divulge your source.”
“That’s right.”
Charles leaned back, opened his mouth, and brayed so hard tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. They had to hear him in the mail room. After a moment, he dabbed at the tears with his fingers. “I’m sorry, Lainey, but that is the most ridiculous story I’ve ever heard.”
She sucked in a breath.
“I should fire you, but I haven’t laughed that hard in days. Just for that, I’ll keep you around.” He picked up his stack of papers and went back to his work.
Anger lashed Lainey to her spot three feet inside his door. The man didn’t listen at all. Instead, he mocked and teased her, humiliated her even. The United States might be on the verge of an apocalypse, but he refused to even consider it.
After a moment, he glanced up. “Still here?”
“You need to listen to me.” Lainey stepped forward and held her phone up. “I’ve been in contact with my source all morning, but now she’s MIA. And the private investigator I hired to look into it is gone, too. He’s a former cop. One of the good guys. There’s no way he wouldn’t answer unless he’s compromised.”
She closed the remaining distance to the desk and leaned over far enough to catch a whiff of her boss’s cologne. “People need to be warned.” She paused. Her boss didn’t care about saving lives. He cared about ratings. She hardened her voice. “If we don’t follow this, we’ll be missing out on the story of the century.”
Nothing she said mattered. He stared at her like she’d told him they were turning into a lifestyle channel with three hours of home and garden instead of news. He set his stack of papers down and smoothed his tie before standing up.
At his full height of six foot two, Charles Trenton intimidated almost everyone. On any other day, Lainey would be included. But she refused to back down this time. The butterflies in her stomach pushed her on. She stood still and looked him in the eye.
“You have some nerve, Ms. Sinclair. When I tell you there’s no story, that’s the end of it. Now if you’re smart, you’ll turn around and walk out of this office before I fire you.”
Lainey opened her mouth to respond when the door slammed against the wall. A street reporter from the nightly news stood in the doorway, out of breath and panting.
Charles threw up his hands. “What now?”
“It’s massive, sir. No one’s ever seen anything like it.”
Lainey stepped back and bumpe
d into the desk, panic bubbling up her throat. Not already; it’s too soon. “Is it an attack?”
The reporter shook his head. “No one knows.” He ran a hand through his hair and looked around as if the office walls would somehow make sense of it all. “All I know is the entire eastern half of the United States is without power. It’s the biggest blackout in history.”
Lainey’s boss remained calm, but his voice was strained. “What caused it?”
“Unclear at this point, but some reports are coming in saying a bright light lit up the sky just before the grid went down.”
“Like a bomb?”
“Possibly, but it gets worse.” The reporter swallowed and tugged at his collar. “Apparently a bunch of cars are affected too. They just stopped working while driving down the road.”
Lainey turned to her boss. “It’s just after five o’clock on the east coast.”
“Friday night rush hour.” Charles eased down into his chair. “This is a nightmare.”
Lainey swallowed. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. And if I’m right, it’s only just beginning.”
Chapter Three
KEITH
KSBF Studios
Los Angeles, California
Friday, 1:52 p.m. PST
Keith watched as Lainey frowned at her phone screen and chewed on her flawless pink lip. Mar her makeup with a nervous habit? Not like Lainey at all. She glanced up, eyes zeroing in on his. Definitely trouble. They might have broken up, but he could still tell when something bothered her. Keith jerked his head, inviting her over.
She waved him off. First Daphne, now Lainey. Striking out with the ladies today, that’s for sure. He rubbed the back of his neck. Maybe some time alone is just what I need. He watched from behind the camera as Lainey lowered her phone and strode toward the executive offices.
Strange. Reporters didn’t converse with the higher-ups. Not unless they were getting fired or about to quit. Oh. Sadness punched Keith in the gut. Maybe Lainey finally got that promotion she wanted, just not at KSBF. If Lainey was moving on to bigger and brighter opportunities, that would be the end of their friendship. The end of wondering if she’d ever change her mind.
