by A E Faulkner
“It’s okay,” Jeff says, placing a hand on Riley’s shoulder. “Just keep driving. You said we’re heading to Maryland, right?”
Riley and I both nod. She answers him. “Yes! Towson! He said Towson. Can you plug that into the phone, so we’ll know we’re going in the right direction at least?”
I set the navigation, releasing a gasp when the robotic voice alerts us that it will take two hours. And that’s not even counting how long it will take to get home after we stop there.
“I don’t know, guys, those clouds look pretty nasty,” Jeff says, pointing out the window. “And nothing’s even happened yet.”
“We should check in with our parents,” Aidan mutters to Jeff. He retrieves his phone and hands it to his friend. Although we only hear one side of the conversation, it’s clear Jeff’s parents heard the emergency broadcast. He assures them that he’s on his way and tells them not to worry.
I fix my gaze out the window. I can’t bear to face my sister. I’m guessing the same blend of jealousy, regret, and sorrow swirls within both of us. We should be with our parents right now. Or at the very least, we should be calling to tell them we’re okay and on our way home.
Our first stop is our Aunt Robin’s house to retrieve our family dog, Snickers. But we don’t even have her phone number. It’s saved in the address book of our cell phones. But they now reside somewhere along Route One—maybe lying in a ditch along the shoulder or crumpled within the remains of our smashed car. Either way, I’m praying she’ll be home and ready to hand over Snickers, because we won’t have much time to explain.
I tune the conversations out when Jeff wraps up his call and Aidan begins his. I don’t even realize that Aidan’s hung up until Jeff starts firing questions at him.
“So, you must understand more about what’s happening.” Jeff leans against the door, twisting so that he faces Aidan. “What do you think’s gonna happen around here?”
Aidan blows out a deep sigh, shooting me a worried glance. The crystal hue to his irises darkens, as if signaling the hesitation in his words. “The warning was right. We’re not exactly in the projected ash zone but if this eruption is major and the Jet Stream is strong, it can carry ash all the way to Pennsylvania.”
“And what if it does?” Jeff asks. I twist in my seat to listen as if my eyes have to see what my ears are hearing. I study their expressions as they talk, searching for clues that this really isn’t as bad as the hairs rising on the back of my neck suspect.
“Sounds kinda minor compared to flowing lava,” Jeff mutters, shooting me a sly grin. My eyes volley to Aidan, but his lips don’t even tug at the corners of his mouth. They seem to tighten, forming a pursed line.
“Ash is basically rock and glass. Even if it doesn’t blanket the East Coast, it would cause a lot of damage in the Midwest. It would kill plants and animals, collapse buildings, and destroy electrical equipment. Communication’s been spotty with cell phone towers out from the earthquake. This would be a hundred times worse, and it would take a lot longer to repair.”
The smile falls from Jeff’s face when his jaw drops. Riley chews on her fingernails, one hand at a time, listening intently. My heart crashes within my chest, sending frantic jolts through my extremities. The relaxed, caring college guy I met just a few weeks ago seems to have aged by ten years in the past ten minutes.
“Do you know how much of our food is produced in the Midwest?” He pauses, but not long enough for any of us to answer. “That’s where most of our meat comes from. Not to mention crops. This could have a major impact on the food supply.”
“And that’s not even considering that volcanic eruptions release sulfur dioxide.” He turns, running his eyes over each of us as if awaiting a response. When we remain silent, fixated on his knowledge, he continues. “In the atmosphere, that causes acid rain.”
Silence descends, cloaked in distress. I nearly skyrocket through the roof when the satellite phone practically screams its mechanical tune. I must have inadvertently turned the volume up when I tried calling Bowen. Bowen! He must be calling!
My fingers fumble over the smooth black surface and the phone tumbles to the floor. Aidan and Jeff shout obvious commands from the back seat. “Pick it up!” “Hurry, before he hangs up!”
I scramble to accept the call, squeaking into the receiver, “Hello! Hello!”
“This is Sergeant Bowen,” the familiar voice answers. But the usual seriousness has been replaced by an unhinged urgency.
“Look, we don’t have much time. The eruption’s happening faster than predicted. You aren’t going to make it home before it happens. Get to Rossana and take cover with her.” His words fly at us in a rush. “Stay inside until the ash settles. As soon as it does, drive straight home and tell Rossana to drive to the base as fast as she can. Do you understand?”
All I can manage is a half-hearted “Yes.”
“Good.” He barely breathes between words. “Before you leave, tell Rossana to give you our ham radio. Take it and listen to it every day. You’ll need it to get any updates on conditions. Be careful and stay safe. I’m counting on you to send my wife down here. You’re the last chance I have.”
Guilt and failure swirl within my core. We’ve already failed at getting home before all hell breaks loose. And now we probably won’t make it to the sergeant’s wife in time.
“Sergeant,” Riley’s timid voice surprises us all. “We, um, might have misplaced the address to your house.” The responding deep sigh hums through the receiver clearly.
“You lost the picture with the address written on the back of it?” he clarifies.
“Yes.” I hang my head in shame even though he can’t see. I decide not to volunteer that we also lost some of the weapons he provided us. No need to offer up information he really doesn’t need right now.
“If there’s anything you learn from me, it’s that you should always have a fail-safe,” he says. I envision him squinting his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. He proceeds to talk me through a series of keystrokes. Apparently, he programmed the address into the phone for us. That way if we lost the frame, we had our destination in the phone. And if we lost the phone, we still had the address on the picture. That just would have been a little trickier if we didn’t have at least one working cell phone to guide us.
After confirming that the phone is leading us in the right direction, Bowen bids us farewell.
“At this point, don’t let anything stop you. Get to my house and take cover. I’ll talk to you then.”
Chapter 43
Between Aidan’s explanation and the sergeant’s warning, the conversation dwindles to an uncomfortable lull. I have so many questions, but no one has the answers. Bowen said to make sure we get a ham radio from his wife in case there are future announcements. Remembering the emergency broadcast message we heard earlier, I switch the radio back on.
Pop music rolls from the speakers. No one seems to notice or care. I glance out the window, wondering what the sky has in store for us. Will it come crashing down and snuff us all out of existence? Will it scatter flecks of poison into our water and air, choking us from the inside?
I’m jolted from the cyclone of morbid thoughts when a series of harsh beeps blares from the radio. My hand shoots toward the dial, turning it up.
Static, then the robotic voice announces a message from the Emergency Broadcast System. Silence stretches across the airwaves. Goosebumps crawl up my arms as my heart thunders in my chest. After what feels like an hour, a voice splinters the silence. This time there’s no mechanical inflection. The deep voice oozes confidence:
Citizens of this great country, good evening. This is President Taves addressing you from the Oval Office. Tonight’s address is different from any other I’ve ever given. It is with grave concern that I am speaking to you under the current circumstances.
Our homes, our communities, our very way of life. They are all in danger right now. We sit on the brink of disaster. And although we can’
t fight this enemy with weapons or technology, we stand together as citizens of this great country, and we will prevail.
I received word today that the Yellowstone Caldera in Wyoming is poised to erupt within the next few hours. Now I know this information is alarming, but the most important thing we can do right now is to stay calm.
Our military forces are prepared, and they are uniting to assist those with the greatest need. The Yellowstone National Park area is under an evacuation order. This includes Wyoming, Montana, and Idaho.
Please stay tuned after my address concludes for local emergency plan announcements. In general, military bases, educational facilities, and municipal properties throughout the country will open their doors to assist citizens until further notice. These safety communes will provide food and shelter, as well as basic necessities.
If you are in an immediate jeopardy zone, I encourage you to gather your family and minimal belongings and report to the closest military base, school, or municipal building for instruction. If you are not within the Yellowstone National Park evacuation boundary, stay put until further notice. Specific information will be provided based upon your location
I wish everyone a safe evening. Good night and God Bless.
“Okay, first of all, he said he found out today. Sergeant Bowen told us days ago, so the military knew.” I slump into my seat in frustration. “It’s just like the earthquake. They knew about that, too, but they didn’t warn people. The only reason they’re announcing it now is probably because the news stations started talking about it.”
Aidan’s face twists in confusion. “What do you mean they knew about the earthquake before it happened?” Before I can answer, he mutters to himself. “Of course, they knew. That kind of seismic activity would have triggered warnings.” He scratches his chin. “The real question is why. Why didn’t they warn anyone? And how did they keep it under wraps?”
“It doesn’t really matter now, does it?” Riley cries. “The clock is ticking. All that matters is that we get to our next stop before the ash falls.”
“Yeah,” Jeff agrees. “At least they did the right thing now and told people. Even if they did wait until the eleventh hour. I mean, it’s better than nothing.”
“I guess,” I shrug, not convinced. Riley’s right, though, there’s nothing we can do about it and it doesn’t change our situation.
The rest of the ride is quiet as we all process the impending disaster. Bitterness pits in my stomach as I imagine the widespread panic sweeping our country right now. Our small group has had a few days to digest what’s happening, but most people heard it now for the first time. What a cruel twist that the roads were just cleared, and power was just restored.
How many will disbelieve the warning? How many didn’t hear it?
My mind wanders back to when we were trying to find Riley, driving in the Malibu Jeff had borrowed that ended up getting swallowed by a sinkhole. The group was together—me, Aidan, Jeff, Chris, Jasmine and Wes—talking through what was happening with the environment. The earthquake, the tornado, and temperature extremes.
I remember Jasmine saying something about Mother Nature being angry and tired of human destruction. And that maybe nature was setting some sort of mass extinction plan into motion. A chill sweeps up my spine, triggering an involuntary tremor through my limbs.
Resting an elbow on the door, I lean against it, dropping my head into my palm. When my finger brushes the bandage sticking to my temple, I flip the visor down to check if it’s bled through. I have no idea what year this car was made, but it’s old enough to lack basic necessities, like a visor mirror.
I squeeze my eyes shut, cringing when I realize that a mirror isn’t a true necessity. I think we’re all about to find out what we can live without.
Chapter 44
“You have arrived at your destination,” the mechanical voice chimes. Riley shoots me a side glance as she eases up on the gas pedal. Aidan and Jeff pitch forward, gripping our seats as they sway back and forth to survey our destination.
The car drifts across the narrow blacktop driveway, rolling to a stop. Nervous anticipation electrifies the air. We take a quick inventory of the supplies Bowen gave us and throw the doors open.
Bags slung over our shoulders, we follow the winding walkway to the front door. Aidan and Jeff let us lead the way. Locking her brown eyes with mine, Riley hesitates for just a moment before she depresses the rectangular doorbell button. I release a deep exhale in a futile attempt to slow my racing heart.
Awkward silence stretches as we patiently await a response.
“What’s her name again?” Riley whispers, panic lacing her words.
“Um…it started with an R.” I remember that at least.
“You two are gonna sound real credible if you don’t even know her name,” Jeff says, crossing his arms and tilting his head. He raises his eyebrows to punctuate his lack of confidence in us.
“Well, doesn’t look like it’s gonna matter much if no one’s home.” Aidan plants a leg between us, reaching forward and banging on the door. We all straighten again, just in case someone’s in there and heard this time.
The noise draws attention, but not from inside the house. Across the street a low growl morphs into a yapping bark, warning us that we’re being watched. And also announcing our presence to anyone who’s home.
“Great,” Jeff slaps his leg and motions toward the dog. “How come the welcoming committee was so easy to find?”
Riley stares at the barking machine, lightly tapping my arm. “Quinn…that dog. I think that’s Bowen’s dog!”
I stumble toward the street, craning my neck to see the dog’s face. The mass of black fur approaches us with interest. As it draws closer, I recognize the subtle sprinkle of white around the otherwise black muzzle. Riley’s right—that’s the dog from the picture!
I rush toward the yard—shouting calls for me to wait fly past my ears. My steps falter when the dog responds eagerly to my approach. The barking dwindles, quickly replaced by a teeth-baring growl. The sound reverberates, sending waves of fear through my heart and caution to my brain. A hand clasps around my shoulder, startling me. My whole body jolts in surprise and I nearly tumble to the ground when my feet lag behind my brain’s reaction. Aidan scolds me. “What were you thinking? Taking off like that, running full force toward an aggressive dog!” Disappointment coats his words. “You’ve gotta think, Quinn, you can’t just do stuff like that.”
I raise my hands in surrender. “You’re right,” I agree. “That was stupid. I got all excited because I think we found Bowen’s dog.”
Riley and Jeff join us, their narrowed eyes drilling into me. Before they can express their annoyance, I raise a hand to ward off the impending lecture. “I know, I know. I shouldn’t have done that. Sorry.”
“So,” Jeff starts, nodding toward the house across the street. “You think she’s in there?” The dog circles excitedly but stays within the limits of the browning lawn. He scents the air, dark eyes following our every step.
“We don’t really have another plan,” Riley says flatly. “If she’s not here, then what?”
No one answers. No one has an answer.
“Well then,” Jeff says, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s find out.” As he leads the way, we flow into a single file along the driveway. With light steps and a soothing tone, he sweet-talks the dog while slowly easing toward the front door. “Who’s a good dog? Are you gonna be a nice puppy?”
Thankfully, the puppy tilts its head, captivated by Jeff’s charms. Maybe these are words it recognizes. Either way, it’s working because the snarling has ceased, and the teeth no longer threaten to chomp into our flesh.
When Jeff pauses and bends at his waist, the dog seems to relax. Its ears ease from their previous upright position and its tail hesitantly sways back and forth in anticipation of a full wag.
The dog approaches and Jeff gingerly extends a hand. Seemingly confident that the dog has no intention of tea
ring it off, he strokes the dog’s head.
Tired of standing in place, I rest a palm on the closest vehicle, which happens to be parked just a few inches away. My eyes trail the bold design splashed across the pickup truck’s side and cap.
Deathtrap Pest Elimination. Gee, that name says it all. Beneath the words, a smiling uniformed employee hoists his chosen extermination weapons outward, proud and ready to eradicate any creature that dares cross your path.
An amplified barking yanks me from my thoughts. It’s not the vicious kind meant to warn us. This time, it’s the jovial announcement of a new friend’s arrival. The dog’s eyes dance while its tail swishes. Jeff shoots us a nervous glance, his jaw tensing as he cringes.
We animatedly try to shush the dog, waving our arms and begging for silence. Our efforts are fruitless. Before any of us can take another step forward, the house’s front door swings open and a stout man bursts onto the porch.
Chapter 45
“Come here, Millie!” he calls. The dog immediately obeys, charging past him and into the house. With her secured, he turns a scrutinizing gaze toward us.
“Can I help you with something?” He crosses his arms and leans on one hip, jutting out the other leg. His tone doesn’t convey an offer of assistance.
Running a hand through his hair, Jeff takes a step forward. He dips his shoulders in a non-confrontational way. “Yeah, we were actually looking for someone.” He motions for me to come forward. The man huffs impatiently as I stumble past Jeff.
“Um, we’re trying to find one of the neighbors,” I say nervously, gesturing across the street at the house we just left. “The woman that lives in that house.”
Riley appears at my side, close enough to brush my shoulder. “We know her husband, and he has a message for her,” she adds.
Surprise flashes through the man’s eyes before they turn cold. “No one’s there anymore. They left when the warnings started yesterday.” He tugs on his shirt collar as the words tumble from his mouth quickly. His face scrunches in annoyance. I can’t tell if it’s because the neighbors left or if it’s because we showed up asking about them.