Sky on Fire

by Emmy Laybourne

  Then he grabbed me and slammed me down onto the top of one of the tables in the Pizza Shack.

  It was the same table I’d hidden under with Astrid during the earthquake, one million years ago.

  Payton pressed the gun into my eye socket.

  “I should never have trusted you, Deano. You got the look of a freakin’ intellectual about you, you know that? What’d you do to my boys and why’d you keep secrets from me?”

  Then there came two delicious sounds.

  First a scream—“Uncle Payton!”—from Anna.

  And then the ROAR of a battery-powered chainsaw.

  Astrid stood in the middle of the fallen cadets out on the gym space. She held the chainsaw in one hand and in the other she had Anna by the hair. In the darkness behind her, I could see the little kids.

  “You get away from Dean,” she commanded.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  ALEX

  0 MILES

  “Where were you guys?!” Sahalia shouted. “I’ve been waiting for an hour! I thought I lost you.”

  She looked small and scared. I always thought of her as being so mature. But now she looked her age. The same age as me, that is. Thirteen.

  She was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a large sweater. Her hair pulled out of her face. She looked squeaky clean.

  She only forgave us when we explained about Batiste and how happy he looked going off with his mom.

  After we got clothes, we were each given a backpack.

  They were white, with no logo at all. They had inside them a little Dopp kit, with a toothbrush, toothpaste, a razor, and soap. Also some basic first aid stuff—wound wash, Band-Aids, antibiotic ointment, a foil pack of pain pills.

  All the food vendors: Wolfgang’s, Burger King, Pizza Shack, etc. had been turned into mess halls. The food was the same (from what I’ve been told) for every meal. Oatmeal for breakfast, with fruit, if you got there early enough. Beef stew for lunch (no one there was a vegetarian, I guess).

  Chicken stew for dinner. Rice on the side. Oranges for dessert. Sometimes apples.

  There were boxes and boxes of bottled water to drink.

  We stood there, a little lost. People bustled around in every direction.

  I scanned the faces passing by, hoping to see one of our parents. If I could find them in time, they’d make someone go back for you.

  But it was useless. There were thousands of people milling and pushing past.

  “Look!” Sahalia said. She pointed up to a big board.

  It had numbers listed in batches, along with hours of departures and gate information. Like 7,989–8,425 Gate B7 11:45 a.m.

  Our numbers weren’t even on the board yet.

  “Let’s get food,” Niko said. He was carrying Max on his back, piggyback style. “Then I’m going to get you guys to the gate.”

  “What are you going to do then?” Sahalia asked, sounding edgy.

  “I’m going to go find someone and organize a rescue.”

  I looked at Niko. I couldn’t read any emotion on his face.

  “Do you mean it?” I said.

  “Of course.”

  Before I could get excited, Max threw up. It was pure bile—a weird neon-green color. His eyes rolled in the back of his head and he started to shake.

  People around us screamed and made a commotion.

  A big guy helped Niko to get Max down onto the ground but Max was still shuddering and shaking.

  “We need a medic!” someone shouted. “We need a medic here!”

  Grown-ups were all over us now, and we were getting pushed apart.

  “Clear back!” shouted a woman. “Clear BACK!”

  She was a reservist—we’d seen lots of them on the inside of the airport. Their uniforms were a little different from the regular Army soldiers.

  She pushed the adults back with one arm and with the other she escorted an overweight medic. He had a satchel full of medical supplies and a red cross painted on his uniform.

  He removed a syringe of some kind and shot it into Max’s arm and the quaking stopped.

  “He’s going to be okay,” the medic said.

  “All right, you heard him. The boy’s going to be fine. Everyone get to your gates. We need to get you out of here as soon as possible, folks! This is an evacuation, not a sideshow!” the reservist bellowed.

  She had gray hair pulled back in a bun and was much shorter than the other soldier, but she was clearly the boss. She wore camouflage fatigues and had the three bars of a sergeant on her arm.

  Then Ulysses asked something in his heavy accent.

  His eyes were wide and he was pointing at the lady.

  I couldn’t believe what he was saying and I turned to see the lady reservist’s face.

  Ulysses repeated, “Mrs. Wooly?”

  And it was.

  It was Mrs. Wooly, Dean!

  It said it right there on her uniform: WOOLY.

  She looked at Ulysses blankly for a moment. Her face just wiped clean of all emotion and then she shouted, “Ulysses Dominquez?”

  She looked at him, at Niko, at me and Max and Sahalia, and then she gave a kind of screech. A giant, triumphant screech!

  And she hugged Sahalia, nearly lifting her off the ground. And then she hugged me and Niko and Ulysses.

  “These are my kids, Goldsmith!” she shouted to the medic. “These are the ones I’ve been telling you about!”

  “No kidding,” he said, already at work bandaging Max’s feet. “Really? From Monument?!”

  Ulysses got down next to Max and was trying to wake him up, to show him we’d found Mrs. Wooly.

  Max’s eyes fluttered open.

  “Look!” Ulysses crowed. “Mrs. Wooly!”

  Max looked up at her. He started to cry. “Why didn’t you come for us?”

  “Oh, Max, I tried,” she said.

  “We waited and waited!” Max wailed.

  Mrs. Wooly pressed her hand to Max’s forehead.

  “I tried to come for you, buddy. I put in a request with my CO but that didn’t look like it was going to pan out. So I’ve been asking every chopper pilot I meet if he would just sneak me over to go and look for you but none of them would do it for me.”

  The medic finished wrapping Max’s feet. He patted Mrs. Wooly on the shoulder and headed off.

  Sahalia was looking at Mrs. Wooly with an emotion I couldn’t read. Anger? Contempt?

  “We needed you!” Sahalia said accusingly. “We lost … we lost people. Brayden got shot! If you had come…” She couldn’t finish the sentence, but she didn’t really need to.

  Mrs. Wooly pushed some hair out of Sahalia’s face. She took Sahalia’s hand in hers.

  “Oh, Sahalia, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry that whatever happened happened. It must have been horrible, honey,” she said in her gravelly voice.

  “I made it to the high school and I was trying to get a hold of a bus to come for you guys and there was this little kind of riot there and then this alert came over the radio. I had to report for duty. That’s how it is for us. When called to serve, we gotta serve. But I swear to you I’ve spent every moment trying to figure out how to get you rescued. But none of that matters. You’re here. You made it.”

  “Niko said you were coming in a Kia minivan,” Max said.

  “A Kia?! No way, honey. I only drive Subarus. And school buses.” She rustled Max’s hair. “You should see the Airbuses, kids. A whole fleet of A380s. Loading and flying and loading and flying. You’ll be on the next one out. I’m going to see to that!”

  “Are we going to Alaska?” Max asked.

  “But Mrs. Wooly—” I said.

  “You might,” she said. “But they’re going all over. Lots of flights to Canada. Vancouver, Ottawa, BC.”

  “But Mrs. Wooly—” Niko tried to interrupt.

  “They got hit much less hard than we did and have been really amazing. This time tomorrow, you guys will be safe. Maybe somewhere sunny even.”

  Max and
Ulysses looked at each other and smiled.

  “But Mrs. Wooly!” I yelled. “We have to go back.”

  “Go back?” she said, puzzled.

  “Dean and Astrid and Chloe and Caroline and Henry are still at the store,” I said.

  She went white and said, “Hell.”

  * * *

  Mrs. Wooly grabbed the first reservist she saw. He was a young guy, chewing gum, and had a long neck and the kind of head that bobs a lot. She took him off to the side and gave him a bunch of directions. She looked serious. He looked half-irritated, half-amused.

  Then she came back to us with the guy.

  “Kids, this is Frank. He’s going to get you on the next plane out of here.”

  “What?” I said. “No!”

  “I’m going to do the best I can to get your brother and the others. But look,” she told us, leaning in closer. “You gotta get out of here now. It may not be safe for much longer.”

  “What do you mean?” Sahalia asked.

  “What’s happening?” Niko said.

  “Just go with Frank!” Mrs. Wooly ordered. “He’ll get you guys on the next plane out of here. I have to go!”

  And with that she started running—running away from us.

  * * *

  Frank grabbed a wheelchair for Max and deposited him in it.

  “Follow me, squirts,” he said.

  He went and looked at the call-board and said, “Gate A-40,” and then, “All right, let’s get this done.”

  Niko looked pissed. Sahalia looked scared. And I was just puzzled.

  We all just followed along as Frank led us to the elevator and then down to the shuttle train.

  My mind was catching up to the moment.

  What had she meant, it might not be safe for much longer?

  * * *

  We waited on the shuttle platform. I guess I was in a daze.

  A shuttle came and I tried to get on.

  Frank pulled me back.

  “Look, dummy!” he said, pointing to a sign that read: RESTRICTED! MILITARY PERSONNEL ONLY.

  The soldiers in the car were all talking to one another and asking one another questions and checking their gear. They were excited—anxious—stirred up about something. But what?

  Our shuttle came and Frank pushed his way in with Max’s wheelchair. The rest of us jammed in near them.

  I asked Frank, “What did Mrs. Wooly mean, it’s not safe?”

  “Can’t tell you,” he said. “Sorry, kid.”

  Niko caught my eye.

  “He probably doesn’t know,” Niko said dismissively. “He probably doesn’t have security clearance.”

  “What do you know about the military?” Frank snorted.

  “Are reservists even in the military?” I asked. “You’re not even in the Army.”

  “We are too in the Army!” Frank protested.

  “Then why don’t they tell you what’s going on?” Niko taunted.

  “Operation Phoenix,” Frank said, indignant. “A battery of thermobaric bombs. Detonation sites all over NORAD and Colorado Springs.”

  “They’re going to burn the air,” Niko gasped.

  “Yeah! Big-time!” Frank clucked. “Gotta try to incinerate the compounds ’cause they’re starting to spread. It’s called thermal oxidation, you little twits.”

  “What are you guys talking about?” Sahalia asked.

  “Nothing you need to know, missy,” Frank said.

  He thought he was so cool because he’d shocked us into silence.

  * * *

  At the gate a soldier was making an announcement over a megaphone.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we will now begin boarding. Please make one long line right here. Seating is open. Keep families together. No pushing or shoving.”

  We got in line.

  Ulysses and Max were playing around with the wheelchair, Ulysses tilting Max back and Max laughing like crazy.

  “You can leave us now, if you want,” Niko told Frank. Niko made himself look like he thought Frank was a big shot, somehow. “I mean, you must have a lot to do.…”

  “Yeah, I do,” Frank muttered, cracking his neck. “I’m not here to babysit.”

  “We can get on the plane ourselves,” I said.

  “All right then,” Frank agreed. “Good luck, squirts.” And he took off.

  “I’m not going,” I whispered to Niko as soon as Frank was out of earshot. “I’m going to find Mrs. Wooly and help her organize the rescue.”

  Niko didn’t say anything.

  “If you think about it,” I continued, “one woman trying to get a rescue operation going for some kids—who cares? But if I’m there … I’m the brother. I’m a kid. It will, I don’t know, move people.”

  Niko immediately turned to Sahalia.

  “No,” she said.

  “Get the kids on the plane,” he said. “We will find you.”

  “No!” she protested. “We don’t even know where this plane is going!”

  “We’ll find you,” I told her. “I swear it! I swear to you we’ll find you!”

  She crushed me to her in a hug. Then she hugged Niko, too.

  “Don’t let this be the last time I see you,” she said to me.

  “I won’t,” I answered.

  Sahalia turned to Niko and hugged him tight.

  “Thank you,” she said to him. “I’m sorry for what a jerk I was sometimes. You saved my life. You saved it a dozen times. That’s the truth.”

  Then she turned to Max and Ulysses. They were still messing around with the wheelchair.

  “Come on, boys, it’s time for us to get on the plane.”

  She pushed Max’s chair forward, edging through the people in front of her.

  Ulysses looked back at us, confused at why we weren’t coming, and I heard Max holler, “Wait! What?”

  “Come on,” Niko told me, and we started running.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  DEAN

  DAY 15

  Payton looked up at Astrid. His mouth fell open and he was shocked. I used that moment to get my hand on his hand, on the gun. I pushed the gun and his hand away from me. And then Payton looked back down at me and snarled.

  Our hands were both on the gun and I was flat on my back on the table. I got my leg up and kicked him, as hard as I could, and I held on tight to the gun.

  And I shot, as he stumbled back, and it hit him.

  I didn’t mean to and I did mean to and I shot him right in the chest.

  Payton fell to the floor. His mouth was open and he was looking at me with a horrible expression on his face.

  An expression of confusion.

  “Jesus Christ!” Jimmy screamed. “You killed him!”

  Jimmy backed away from me.

  Astrid turned the chainsaw off.

  I sat up. My hands were shaking. I had just shot Payton.

  Caroline and Henry started shrieking. I didn’t want them to see Payton. I didn’t want them to have seen me shoot him but I couldn’t take it back. His blood was pooling out around him.

  I couldn’t stop looking at him.

  “Hey!” Astrid said. I jerked my head away to look at her. “You saved us. Remember that.”

  “Oh, Dean!” Caroline cried. I stumbled toward them. She and Henry came forward and hugged me.

  The twins talked at the same time, asking me if I was okay and telling me how scared they had been and asking if Payton was really dead.

  Jake groaned from where he lay on the floor.

  Astrid took a step forward toward him, but Jimmy thought she was coming for him.

  “Please, p-p-please,” he begged. “Don’t kill me.”

  “I have a better idea,” said Chloe, stepping out from behind Astrid.

  She stomped over to the juice and held up the bottle.

  “Drink!”

  “I don’t want to die!” Jimmy sobbed.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Chloe snapped, “it’s not poison in there. Just sleeping pills.�
�

  Jimmy Doll Hands brought the bottle to his lips and drank it.

  “All of it,” Astrid said.

  And so he chugged it.

  “What should I do with this one?” Astrid said with contempt. She still had Anna by the hair.

  “Make her drink!” Chloe snarled.

  “No,” I said. “We’ll just tie her up.”

  “She should drink, the little rat!”

  “For Christ’s sake, I don’t know the dosage!” I shouted. “We’ll just tie her up!”

  Chloe looked chastened.

  “This isn’t a game,” I yelled. “These are people’s lives.”

  And a stupid sob came up in my chest, just as Jimmy Doll Hands sank to the floor.

  * * *

  Anna said nothing as we tied her hands. Not even “Thank you for not drugging me.” It was almost like we were boring her. She just wandered over to Payton and stood staring down at him.

  I felt bad for her. The girl was clearly psychotic.

  After Anna’s hands were bound, Astrid and I tried to wake up Jake.

  He obviously had retained some of the sleeping pill “juice” before he puked.

  “I know! I know!” Henry volunteered. “When our mom needs to stay awake when she’s driving she has an energy drink!”

  “Sure, find one,” I said.

  It was okay. We had time to try it, even if it was a dumb, little kid kind of a solution.

  The cadets would sleep for at least eight hours. We were out of danger. But we did have to figure out what to do with them.

  Astrid sat, looking at Jake’s face.

  She was studying it. She must have felt me looking at her, because she looked up.

  “That was very brave, Dean,” she said to me.

  “No,” I said. “I was scared.”

  “That doesn’t mean it wasn’t brave,” she said.

  The thought of Payton’s face after I’d shot him didn’t make me feel brave at all. It made me want to throw up. It made me feel low and dirty and ashamed.

  “What do we do now? What do we do with them?” I asked her.

  Henry and Caroline came back with the drink.

  I opened Jake’s mouth and tried to pour the contents of the little vial in.

  Jake choked and sputtered. I think it was more the sensation of drowning that woke him than the ingredients of the drink, but who cared.

  “I say we drag them up onto the roof and lock them out,” Astrid said. “But we keep their guns.”