by McNeil, Nick
Alvin: Yeah, no shit, Sherlock, haha
Jake: Do you guys want the coordinates? Lol. They’re actually still in Washington. Less than an hour away from you. They’re just off a main street.
Cheltenham: Shoot them over.
Alvin: I’m going to double-check and gather any last minute supplies, and then I will head out. See you soon, C.
Mr. Cheltenham closed the Messenger tab and leaned back in his seat. The wheeled chair squeaked every time he bent it backwards or forwards. “You got this, big guy,” Mr. C said to himself. “It’s just a small trip. Not that we have left West Pines in the last ten years, but it’s okay.” His eyes itched and his mouth dried up as he bit his nails. “It’ll be good to finally get out. Breathe some air.” He closed his eyes and placed his hands behind his head. He took long and deep breaths until his mind stopped racing. “My coffee!” he shouted, fumbling out of his seat in an attempt to scurry to the kitchen.
Pierce County, Washington
4:55 p.m.
The woodlands were vast and blooming with life. A small haze glided through the trees, adding life to the forestry. Branches from pines, firs, hemlocks, and all native trees alike overlapped and intertwined themselves, creating a canopy so thick the sun barely poked through. The birds were already asleep, and the sun was setting.
“If we hustle, we can make it there before it’s too dark outside.” Abraham held Mrs. Jones’ hand and marched into the misty woods. “It’s only a couple of miles inland. It’s pretty hilly, but I think we’ll be fine.” The troop left their car behind and backpacked into the forest, following Mr. Jones’ lead.
Amelia marched just behind her parents, Dinesh and Jay just behind her. In the back of the group, Clementine and Levi hiked side by side.
“I have to be honest, Levi.” Clementine smiled and looked at her feet as she walked. “I have no idea if I am supposed to be terrified of you or completely infatuated.”
Levi jolted upright and swallowed. He grabbed his backpack straps as his eyes grew wide.
“I feel like with your family, we can get out of anything. But at the same time, none of this seems hard for you.” Clementine glanced over at Levi. “You seem willing to throw yourself into the face of danger. You seem willing to do whatever it takes without any hesitation.”
“I honestly just try not to think about any of it too much.” Levi slowed his pace so he and Clementine could drift further back from the group. “Repression is one hell of a tool.” Levi chuckled. “Not to mention, I’ve been a lot less… receptive to all of this than I would have guessed.”
“Me too,” Clementine replied. “I feel like our parents and, honestly, the generation before as a whole are a lot more emotional about this entire thing.”
“I guess their paranoia about the internet desensitizing us wasn’t propaganda.” Levi leaned over to nudge her with his shoulder as he walked but managed to awkwardly poke her with the barrel of his rifle.
“Do you have a machine gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” Clementine leaned over and playfully pushed Levi. “In all seriousness though, I am almost happy in a way that we’ve become so callous to it all. Because, well”—she spread her arms—“this already happened and there is nothing we could have done about it. So being unemotional to it all isn’t the worst thing. In a way, we were actually conditioned and raised to deal with it.”
“I never thought of it like that.” Levi looked at Clementine, and a feeling of euphoria rushed through him.
“You still have a lot of explaining to do, Mr. Jones!” Amelia’s hollering abruptly ended Levi and Clementine’s conversation.
“I actually want to hear this,” Levi acknowledged.
“Me too.” Clementine grabbed Levi’s hand and paced quickly to the front of the group, letting go just before anyone else saw.
“Is now the appropriate time, Amelia?” Abraham deflected.
Amelia skipped ahead and wedged herself between her parents. “I think now is an excellent time.”
“In all honesty”—Abe glanced over his shoulder—“I don’t want to talk about it in front of people outside this family.”
“Oh, please.” Amelia blew and popped a bubble with her gum. “You know lover boy back there is going to tell his new girlfriend the first chance he has. And robo nerd over there is his best friend, whom he will also obviously tell.”
“I can keep a secret better than that,” Levi cried out.
“Sorry, bro,” Dinesh interjected, “but you totally can’t.”
“My point exactly.” Amelia threw her arm that wasn’t holding a rifle into the air. “So let’s not leave out little Jay bird over there, and let’s crack the can of beans open.”
“Is that even a phrase?” Levi rolled his eyes.
“I promise you”—Abraham’s voice was deep and stern—“when I tell you exactly what you want to know”—he shook his head—“you aren’t going to want to tell them. Trust me on this one.”
Amelia locked eyes with her father, and they strutted through the wet terrain. The group grew silent, and the sounds of animals rummaging through the woods were the loudest noises around.
“So.” Dinesh broke the ice. “What exactly is this place that you’re taking us to?”
“My family’s new home,” Abe answered.
“Yeah, yeah. Clearly.” Dinesh gave a dismissive wave. “But what are we talking here? A normal home or a cool bunker like Mr. C’s? What kind of amenities are we looking at?”
“It’s both.” Abraham did not feel like talking, but his common courtesy toward his son’s friend forced him into conversation. “And the amenities are you get to live. Not to mention, I didn’t plan on bringing other people with me. So I am not entirely sure where everyone plans on sleeping when we get there.”
“Troop 408 reporting for duty.” Dinesh saluted. “I can build a shelter out of anything. Don’t you worry about me. I mostly just need someone to hide behind when people with guns inevitably show up.”
Mr. Jones stroked his beard. “I understand things have been stressful, but no one is going to harm or find us out here.”
“I don’t know.” Dinesh shrugged. “I’ve seen enough movies to know about the false victory before the climax. There is always a false victory before the grand finale.”
“Well, good thing this isn’t a movie.” Amelia smacked her gum.
Abe rolled his neck and squeezed his wife’s hand. “Let’s focus on getting to our location. Tomorrow morning I will cook us up some breakfast, and I will answer the rest of your questions. I will be entirely straightforward.”
“Didn’t you say that last time?” Dinesh asked.
Abe stepped over a mud puddle. “Hey, it’s not my fault that SoS showed up unannounced.”
“SoS?” Amelia raised her eyebrows. “We are abbreviating these sons of bitches already?”
The skies filled with dark clouds, and a small drizzle started. Raindrops gathered on the leaves of the forest canopy, stalling the water from hitting the soil. A breeze pushed its way between the trees. Shivers were sent up and down the spines of the group from the combination of their damp clothing and windchill.
“Hey, hey, Levi,” Dinesh teased.
Levi chuckled. “What’s up, Dinesh?”
“What do you call two straight days of rain?” Dinesh asked.
“What?” Levi rolled his eyes.
“A weekend in Seattle.” Dinesh slapped his knee and waited for the group’s laughter but instead found silence. This did not deter him. “Hey, Levi, what does daylight savings time mean in Seattle?” Dinesh didn’t wait for Levi’s response. “An extra hour of rain.”
Amelia tensed her shoulders and clenched her fist. “Please tell me we are almost there.”
“Not quite,” Abraham informed her. “We left about ten minutes ago. I don’t think we’ve even gone half a mile yet.”
West Pines, Washington
5:45 p.m.
Cheltenham plopped himsel
f in the middle of his bunker. He sat in his desk chair and sipped his coffee with both hands. He was dressed in convertible pants and hiking boots. He wore the same shirt he had been wearing for the last three days but accompanied it with a thick vest. His long hair was pulled back by his camo trucker hat. Lying on the floor next to him was a tightly packed hiking backpack and a Mossberg 500. Mr. C anchored his attention on the bunker door.
A deep thud rattled around Cheltenham’s dugout. “We never set up a code word, so I don’t know what to shout,” a voice from above blurted.
Mr. C loomed closer to the bunker entrance. “Well, at least do that secret knock thing or something,” he hurled back.
The voice from above knocked the tune—do, do-do do, do…
Cheltenham knocked back—do do. He unlatched several locks and placed his hands on the turnwheel. “Wait, you never said your name.”
“Dammit, Cheltenham. It’s Alvin. Let me in.” He knocked again. “It smells terrible up here. What the hell happened to all of these people? Actually, I don’t even want to know. Just open up.”
Mr. C opened the bunker door. Alvin grabbed the hatch and helped him swing it open. He placed his foot on top of the door and pinned it to the ground outside. “Who are all of these people?” Cheltenham burst out. Over half a dozen faces looked down into the bunker.
“I brought a couple of friends.” Alvin spread his arms wide.
“This is more than a couple.” Cheltenham wanted to seal off the bunker; however, there was no way to free the hatch from Alvin. “We don’t need all of these people.”
“How many people do you think he will have?” Alvin crouched down and leaned his head over the shelter entrance. Brown and oily hair hung over a gentle face. He was no older than forty, and not a single mark was on his youthful skin. A tattoo of a heart was displayed just below his eye. “If we show up with two people, he isn’t going to feel inclined to tell us anything. They’ll probably just bash your face in again.” He squinted his eyes and cocked his head to the side. “If you’re all packed up, we are actually ready to go. You can ride shotgun with me.” Alvin stood back up. “It’s great to finally meet you, old friend.”
Cheltenham let out a harsh breath. “Let me grab my belongings, and I will be right up. It’s good to meet you too, Al.” Mr. C gathered his assets and climbed out of his bunker. He shut the latch and reinforced it with a padlock. Cheltenham stood frozen, biting down on his bottom lip. He held his shotgun in one hand and fidgeted with his vest zipper with the other.
“Don’t get out of the house much?” Alvin patted Cheltenham on the back. “I’m only kidding. Don’t worry, this should be a pretty quick encounter. Their tracker hasn’t changed locations, and they’re not too far away. They’ve most likely set up camp or possibly even have their own bunker somewhere.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Cheltenham said in an unusually high-pitched voice.
“Look, when we get there”—Alvin led Mr. C toward his vehicle—“if you want to hang back, don’t worry about it. Me and my friends will go chat with him.” He opened the passenger door to his Ford F-150. Cheltenham climbed in. “Once we figure out exactly what he did, we can work together to get things back to normal.” He shut the door and made his way to the driver’s side. He hopped into the truck and continued to speak. “It’s only been a few days and… a lot more chaos has broken out than one would expect.” Alvin started the truck. “But nothing irreversible just yet. I think we can find a new normal still.” He jerked his head and looked at Cheltenham. “So, Big C, what’s your first name, anyway?”
Alvin’s eight companions loaded into a pickup truck and a Honda Pilot. They were dressed casually, and each was armed with either a hunting rifle or a semiautomatic rifle.
Cheltenham wiped his sweaty palms on his pant leg. “Amadeus.”
“You’re kidding.” Alvin slapped the steering wheel and started to drive. “Like Mozart?”
“Yep.” Amadeus avoided eye contact. “Just like Mozart.”
“Amadeus Cheltenham.” Alvin smiled from ear to ear and with one arm gave a pumping hand shake in the air. “That is one badass name, my friend.”
“Thanks.” Cheltenham picked at a nail. Sweat beads formed at his hairline. “I am feeling a little light-headed. I am just going to close my eyes for a minute.”
“Big C,” Alvin chanted, “you need to stay hydrated.” He grabbed a metal water bottle from the cupholder and placed it in Amadeus’ lap.
Cheltenham closed his eyes. His body felt cold and he searched his mind for a thought or memory that was warm, something to hold onto. “My greatest fear has become my reality.” Amadeus rubbed his eyes. “You prepare and prepare. Plan and plan. You play out the scenarios so many times, you almost want it to happen just to know if you were right. But here I am, living it.” Cheltenham tapped his foot and his breathing quickened. “And I have never been more terrified in my life.”
Alvin, with both hands on the wheel, glanced at Cheltenham. “Honestly, in a few more days, everything will start to settle down.”
“Yeah, when all of the weak people have been ‘weeded out,’” Cheltenham made air quotes. “It’s bizarre. I never interacted with anyone. I kept inside all day. But for some reason”—he crossed his ankles in front of him—“the thought of everyone disappearing brings me a feeling of devastation and heartache.”
“You don’t need to be an extrovert to be depressed by millions of people dying.” Alvin took one hand off the wheel and gave Amadeus a tiny shove. He looked down at his GPS. “We’re almost there.”
“Really?” Cheltenham’s shock robbed him of speech.
“Yeah, buddy.” Alvin slapped Amadeus’ thigh. “We’ve been on the road for a while. You were over there shaking for a good thirty minutes or so. Maybe you zoned out a little?”
“Oh, yeah. Duh. Of course.” Amadeus’ skin turned pale, and his skin felt clammy. “Is this the map here?”
“Yep.” Alvin handed over the GPS and a printed map. “Hey, since you told me your real name, can I be honest with you about something?”
“Yeah, sure.” Amadeus studied the map. “According to this, they’re basically on a main street. Isn’t that a little suspicious?”
“My name isn’t actually Alvin,” Alvin replied, breezing over the second portion of Cheltenham’s comment. “It’s Ezra.”
“Ezra?” Amadeus turned and faced Ezra.
“It looks like you’re right.” Ezra pointed forward at Amelia’s Jeep, which was pulled over to the side of the road. He parked his truck next to the vehicle and hopped out. He reached into the back seat and snatched his rifle.
Amadeus stepped out. “It looks like something serious happened here.” He ran his fingers across the bullet holes in the Jeep. “I know that the young Jones girl drove an older Jeep. I wonder if they’re still alive.” He stuck his head through where the windows used to be. “I’m surprised no one looted this baby yet. All of the supplies are still here.”
Ezra’s traveling mates pulled up and parked their cars next to the crash site. “I think they got away safely. I don’t see any blood around here,” Ezra pointed out. “Which means none of these bullets actually hit their intended target.”
“We’ve hit a dead end.” Cheltenham held up his old backpack. “They left it behind.”
“Shit.” Alvin kicked a hubcap from the Jeep across the street. “We need to head back to your place and check in with the others.”
“Why my place?” Mr. C tugged at his collar. “I think we should just call it a loss and think of a new plan. Go back to chatting online.”
“Amanda said she was onto something.” Ezra marched back toward his truck. “Your place is the closest. We need to check in with her and see if she’s found anything.” He hopped into his Ford. “I’m not ready to quit on this.”
5
DAY 3
Pierce County, Washington
6:15 p.m.
At a quick glance one would think it was noth
ing more than another hill scattered across the evergreen forests of Washington. But upon closer inspection, built inside this hill was a home. Lush and beautiful greenery grew all around the structure of the building, making it seem as though the home itself sprouted out of the ground. Trees surrounded the base of the home, and wild poppies grew along the roof. The house was shaped like a horseshoe, with windows plotted all around the structure, allowing natural light to illuminate the inside.
“Holy shit.” Amelia dropped her pack and rifle. “You actually outdid yourself, Mr. Jones.”
“This is prettier than our current home, our old home.” Levi adjusted his glasses. “I would have honestly rather have been here this whole time.”
“I do admit, this looks amazing,” Dinesh added.
“To be honest, Levi, this was significantly cheaper than our old home too.” Abraham placed his hands on his hips. “Solar power, gray-water system, entirely waterproof, resilient to corrosion and all weather conditions, really.” Mr. Jones stared in amazement. “You’re right, Amelia, I did outdo myself.”
“That’s honestly amazing.” Dinesh’s eyebrows rose and his voice with them. “What is this made of to be so durable and cheap?”
“It’s made with a fiber-reinforced polymer composite.” Abe clapped his hands together. “Not only that, it is incredibly energy efficient. The fiberglass-reinforced panels combined with the integrated insulation makes the structure very energy efficient.”
“That’s brilliant,” Dinesh blurted. “Since it is soil covered, it minimizes heat transfer to maintain a constant and stable temperature inside, independent of the external fluctuations.”
“Exactly!” Abe exclaimed. He and Dinesh looked at one another and slowly approached each other, rambling the entire time. “Not only that, the materials don’t spread fires, it’s nearly impossible to break or crack, and the only maintenance required at all is to the vegetation we can grow on it.”
Dinesh put his hands over his mouth. “How did you build this?”
