by Ike Hamill
“What’s that?” Janelle asked.
“He’s saying that maybe the lights go up and down like the sun. Maybe it is dim here now because it’s night outside and then, in the morning, they will brighten up.”
“Or maybe it’s…” Jim started. He stopped mid-word. Robby looked between his kids. They seemed to be focused on something down the hall. Whatever it was, Robby didn’t hear or see anything.
“Kids?”
“Dad? Who is that?” Jim asked.
“Hands,” Robby said. He grabbed Janelle’s hand since she was close enough. Pulling her forward a step, he grabbed Jim’s hand as well. The youngster jumped when he felt his father’s hand clamp around his own.
“Dad, we should go,” Janelle said.
“Jim, Janelle, look at me,” Robby said. “Kids.”
They finally obeyed. Robby looked between them.
“We don’t run away just because there’s something we don’t understand, okay?”
Janelle nodded. Jim only stared at him. Robby squeezed his hand and asked again. Jim finally nodded, but Robby wasn’t sure if his son was really listening. Then, as soon as Jim realized that his sister and father were looking at him, the boy put on a brave face.
“We weren’t going to run, Dad,” Jim said. “She was just saying that we should get back to the others, right?”
“Right,” Janelle said.
They both gently pulled on his hands.
“A little farther,” Robby said. “Liam said that there were cafeterias. I want to map a route to one so that people will have a place to congregate once everything is loaded into the storeroom. That utility room doesn’t have a very homey feel.”
Robby pulled the kids along. Once they understood that he wasn’t going to change his mind, they both went willingly. Jim pulled his hand free so he could lead the way again. His eyes were wide open though. Jim scanned every corner of the dim hall and took every opportunity to glance behind them and make sure that they weren’t being followed.
Jim stopped at a doorway. There was no handle on the door, but it had to be a doorway. The kids glanced around nervously as Robby put his hand out and touched the panel. When he gave the panel a gentle nudge, it took up the momentum and began to move on its own. The lights inside the room began to glow, revealing the interior of a bedroom.
“What is it?” Janelle asked.
“What does it look like? It’s a bedroom.” Robby wondered if that was all it was. Liam had mentioned something.
“Shouldn’t we keep moving?” Jim asked. “You said that we were looking for a cafeteria.”
“Jim, you stay put right here.” He positioned Jim by his shoulders. “Keep an eye out in the hallway. Janelle, you’re with me.”
He took his daughter by the hand and led her into the room. They passed between wooden closets on the left and right, decked out with drawers and doors. All the storage space of the unit was near the door. The bed was a decent size for one person—tight for two. It appeared to be made, but Robby didn’t pull down the thin blanket on top to see if there were sheets. Something told him that the room wasn’t quite ready for residence. It was staged to look inviting, but the details had probably been left to the person who was going to move in.
“What’s that?” Janelle asked, pointing at a painting.
The thing was lit from behind, giving a somewhat natural glow. From the corner of one’s eye, it might be mistaken for a window out to a moonlit pasture.
“I don’t know—it’s just art, I guess.”
Robby left her at the side of the bed and moved toward the bathroom. When he drew close to the open doorway, the lights inside warmed up, showing him a clean, efficient bath. The fixtures and counter were all brushed metal. The floor was covered in broad tiles. It appeared cold, but easy to clean.
“Everything okay out there?” he called to Jim.
“I don’t see anything,” Jim said, sticking his head out into the hall.
“Okay, everyone to me,” Robby said.
The kids gathered quickly at his sides.
“Step into here,” Robby said, guiding them into the bathroom. “Janelle, you trigger the door to shut.”
She experimented for a second and then touched and released the place where the door disappeared into the slot in the wall. When she pulled her hand away, the door slid shut. The lights swelled and then settled into a more yellow color.
Robby reached forward and touched the mirror. Nothing happened. Glancing around, he remembered what Liam had said about the toilet lid.
“Look in the back of the toilet, would you?” he asked Jim.
When the boy lifted the lid of the tank, Robby saw something move in the mirror. He put a hand on Jim’s shoulder.
“Put it back—slowly.”
When Jim set the tank lid back down, a menu appeared in the corner of the screen. The language was not something that Robby recognized. Robby considered the risks and then dismissed them. It seemed unlikely that he would be able to accidentally trigger something that might harm the other residents.
“Any guesses?” Robby asked his kids.
Janelle moved her head to the side to consider the mirror at an angle.
“There are some fingerprints on the first two items. Those would be things that are used the most, I think,” she said.
Robby nodded and touched the first option. The mirror was still reflective, but under the glass an image lit up and was visible despite the reflection. The display showed another room, somewhat similar to the one they had left. When Robby touched the display again, he found a submenu that allowed him to change to other angles and other cameras. They scanned through the rooms, looking at empty space. In the rooms where the lights were off, the screen was noisy shades of green.
Robby figured out how to swipe to return to the first menu and then he found an option that brought up a map. At least it looked like a map when he ignored the red lines and let his brain fill in the gaps between the horizontal blue lines.
Jim saw it too.
“We came in over here,” Jim said, pointing. “Then we traveled from right to left. We must have been going west this whole time.”
“You’re assuming that up is north,” Janelle said.
Jim shrugged.
“They are a lot of the time,” Robby said. “Okay, so how do we get to the cafeteria?”
Jim hovered his finger in front of the mirror and traced out what would be the fastest route.
“Let’s go,” Robby said. “Still have your marker, Janelle?”
She held it up.
“Good. Until we get there, only mark the direction back to the machine room. On the way back, we’ll make arrows to point toward the cafeteria.”
She was still holding up her marker as she nodded.
Jim led the way again, turning confidently at each intersection. The lights were brighter as they moved from the residence area to where meals were served. Jim spied the cafeteria through an open arch. He pointed and smiled as Janelle marked the final turn.
“Excellent job, Jim,” Robby said. “You too, Janelle.”
They spread out as they walked into the room. The lights above were still warming up. The ceiling was arched and colored to look like an afternoon sky. The effect was pleasing even though it was clearly fake.
Robby was crossing to the other side of the room, weaving his way between the tables when one of the chairs behind him banged to the floor. He spun and saw his son standing near it with a guilty look on his face.
“Jim, come on,” Robby said.
“It wasn’t me, I swear.”
“He swears a lot,” Janelle said.
“I’m aware,” Robby said.
Jim bent to pick up the chair and Robby turned back to move to the opposite corner from where they had come in. The other entrance was concealed by the walls and lights, but he could see what might be a path over to the kitchen. This time, two chairs clattered and skidded as they were knocked over. Once more, Jim was s
tanding there, looking guilty as sin as he stared down at the chairs.
“Dad,” Jim said, shaking his head. “It wasn’t me.”
When two chairs tipped over behind Janelle, she barked out a shriek and ran to her father. Jim ran too. The three of them bunched together, staring at the chairs. One more went.
“We don’t run,” Robby whispered to his kids. “We figure out how and why.”
Jim nodded.
Janelle said, “I thought we were past science.”
“Maybe we are. That’s what we’ll find out.”
Chapter 59: Brad
The ringing in Brad’s ears drowned out everything else. Brad forgot about the candle and reached for the doorknob. He felt it turn in his hand, but he heard nothing. The door swung toward him and the heat and light hit his face at once. The kitchen was on fire.
Brad grabbed the fire extinguisher and waded into the glowing orange smoke. He pointed the nozzle at the flames with one hand and pulled the plug with the other. Over the ringing, he barely heard the hiss of the extinguisher as it bucked in his hands.
“Romie!” he yelled. His own voice sounded muffled in his ears. They might as well have been stuffed with cotton. Brad let the fire extinguisher lead the way, beating back the flames as he continued through the kitchen and blasted it at the stove. Once it was out, Brad moved toward the back door. There was a valve outside that would cut off the propane tank completely.
He stopped when his foot hit something soft on the floor. Leaning over to squint through the smoke and dim light, he saw Romie’s arm.
Brad dropped the extinguisher and tugged on Romie’s arm until he got his hands under her armpits. He dragged her toward the door, pausing to pull it open and then continued to drag her backwards until she was outside, under the night sky.
“Romie!” he yelled. His hearing was beginning to come back as the ringing sound faded. Brad went for the tank, spinning the cutoff valve and twisting it until it was tight.
“Romie?” he asked as he lowered himself next to her. He put his face near her nose and then pressed his recovering ear to her chest. She was still breathing and her heartbeat was strong.
“Get off!” she said, pushing him away. When she tried to sit up, Brad gently held her down.
“Stay put, Romie. Are you hurt?”
She said something that he couldn’t make out.
“You’re going to have to yell, I can’t hear you,” he said.
“I said that I can’t hear you either. Would you get away from me? My hair is half burned off.”
Brad let her rise to a seated position and he ran his hands over her head and down her back, to make sure that she wasn’t bleeding. Her shirt was dark and he couldn’t see if there was a spreading stain. Fortunately, he couldn’t feel any blood either. She was clean.
“Satisfied? Want to grope me again?” she asked.
“We should move away from here.”
“No, we should make sure the fire is out,” Romie said, rubbing the back of her head. “Someone sabotaged us, Brad. Let’s not give them the satisfaction of burning the place to the ground.”
“How do you know it was sabotage?”
“I saw it.”
Romie was aggressive with the fire extinguisher. Brad opened up the windows to let some fresh air inside. The lights were out and the flashlights didn’t work. As soon as the rest of the flames were out, they had no light except the stars and moon seeping through the gauze of clouds.
“Is it out?” Brad asked. His hearing was almost completely back.
“How should I know?”
“Tell me what you saw.”
Romie set the fire extinguisher down on the blackened kitchen counter and she pulled out one of the metal stools. Testing the seat with her hand first, Romie gently eased herself on top of it.
“The stove was on. The teapot was popping but it hadn’t quite started boiling yet,” she said. “Then I saw a line of flame. Someone must have left a trail of lighter fluid or something across the kitchen floor. The line of fire, no more than a few inches wide, streaked across the floor, ran up the side of the stove, and then exploded when it hit the flame from the burner.”
“What color?”
“What?”
“What color was the line of flame?”
“Blueish-orange, I guess, what does that have to do with anything?”
“I don’t know. Just wanted to know,” Brad said.
“I screamed when I saw the fire. I wanted to do something, but all I could think to do was scream. Just before it exploded, I thought that it must be your doing. I figured you wanted to frighten me into moving into the basement of the high school with the others. Of course, as soon as it went up, I knew that you wouldn’t have done it. You wouldn’t be stupid enough to blow up the whole place just to scare me.”
“Thanks,” Brad said with a frown. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
Romie put her hands on her hips and twisted her mouth with a determined look.
“We have a lot of work to put this place in order. Can you get some lights on in here?”
“What? Romie, no. First, I don’t think that electricity is even working. My flashlight wouldn’t come on at all. Second, I know we’re not going to attempt to light a candle right now. We have no idea what ignited and exploded. What if the same thing happens with any open flame?”
“You’re being dramatic. You sound just like Lisa.”
“I wish she were here. Sometimes she’s able to talk some sense into you. Clearly, I don’t have that skill,” Brad said.
Romie opened and drawer and found a box of matches.
“Romie,” Brad started to say. He barked out a surprised noise when she dug out a candle and a holder. “Romie?”
She didn’t bother to respond. In the soft light coming through the windows, she opened the box, found a match, and struck it on the side. The flame seemed to come down from the ceiling. It looked almost like the ribbon of lightning that had split the sky. It was a trail of flame that appeared to be a few inches wide, and it shot down from the ceiling until it hit Romie’s match. Her hand was fast. She shook out the match just as the band of flame sought the tip. With a little pop, the room was lit up for a fraction of a second.
Brad blinked at the purple spot it left burned into his eyes.
“That’s odd,” Romie said.
“Come on,” Brad said. “We’re going to have to walk to the shelter.”
“No,” Romie said.
“You can’t be serious. I’m not leaving here without you, and we can’t stay here.”
“No, I mean bicycles and backpacks. I’ll need a few things.”
“We might not have time.”
“I’m already packed.”
Brad’s legs were killing him as they pedaled up the hill. He wasn’t accustomed to bicycling and he had used up all his strength with the earlier trip. He lagged behind Romie as she pulled up to the school and dismounted. She parked her bike in the stand. Brad let his fall to the ground as he limped away.
Romie waited for him at the door.
“This way?” she asked.
Panting, Brad managed to say, “Yeah.”
The school was dark and quiet. Making their way down the hall, Brad was certain that the place was empty of life. Maybe something much worse than an explosion had frightened away everyone who planed to shelter there. Worse, maybe the people were still there and the families had been silenced forever.
Romie reached the stairs down to the locker room first. She paused to wait for Brad—he could just see her outline.
“Go,” he said.
She descended into the darkness.
The short flight of stairs led down into pure black. Brad couldn’t even see Romie moving down there. He heard the door swing open and limped after to catch it before it closed. In the locker room, they found their way by trailing their hands down the metal surfaces. Brad heard Romie’s fingers brushing by one of the latches. He listened to her hesit
ate at the end of the aisle and then her footsteps moved to the right.
“Down here?” she asked.
“Yeah. Stairs,” he said. He still couldn’t seem to catch his breath. It felt like the air was thin and his lungs couldn’t get enough oxygen.
Romie’s footsteps moved carefully down to the basement. Brad wanted her to hurry, but didn’t want to rush her into a fall. Pausing a few steps down, Brad tried to hear beyond the sound of her feet for anyone who might be below. He didn’t hear a thing.
Romie reached the bottom and broke the silence.
“Hello?”
“Shhh!” someone said immediately. A mixture of relief and concern swept through Brad. He was glad that other people were there but didn’t know what new crisis they had found. His foot found the bottom stair and Brad moved into the room. With one more step, his hands ran into Romie’s backpack.
Someone found them in the dark.
“Come over to this wall,” the person whispered. “Quietly.”
Hands found his arm and Brad shuffled forward as the person pulled. Next to him, he sensed Romie moving as well. When they got to the wall, he leaned heavily on the person who helped him lower himself to the floor. Sliding back, he pressed his back into the wall. Now he could hear the subtle sounds of the other people along the wall.
A moment later, he felt warm breath against his ear and then heard someone whispering.
“We don’t know if it’s safe to make a sound. We’re not taking any chances,” the person said. Brad was starting to suspect that it was Mandy.
Brad turned to whisper a question. “What happened?”
“Sentient fire. Like before,” the voice said.
In the dark, Brad frowned. He and Romie had seen something unusual, that was true. Whatever it was, it was enough to actually get Romie to agree to come to the shelter. And there was no doubt that the new phenomenon had been dangerous. But to say that it was sentient fire, like before, was untrue. Brad had seen the strange flames up close decades before. Those flames had been like little sentinels that guarded areas and prevented mechanical things from passing. The new thing that he and Romie had experienced in the kitchen had been more like some flammable gas that had come out of nowhere to ignite. Yes, it was dangerous, but it seemed much more likely to be a natural thing.