Lights Out (Book 2): Power Trip

by James, Hayden

“Right. I was going to have a good time with her,” answered Reginald. Demi feeling more uncomfortable, yet detaching herself from the situation that played out before her. The only reason she was sticking around was to get the antibiotics. Then she would be on her way.

  “Well now that you’re conscious, I’m going to get this young lady what she needs,” Bob said to Reginald. “Stay put, and I’ll bandage you up.” Bob rose from where he stood and headed into the bathroom. He went tot he under the sink cabinet and fetched a few bottles of pills.

  As Bob returned he chastised Reginald, “Now, Reginald. I’m going to patch you up, but you must promise me that you will never do this again, or next time you may not be so lucky.”

  “Right,” Reginald responded, still groggy from the hit.

  Bob took the two pill bottles and handed them to Demi. “Here you go. Here’s a Z-Pack and several cycles of Amoxicillin. Should kill whatever you need killing and some for the next time.”

  Demi, relieved by receiving not only antibiotics for Mike but enough that they could have some on hand for the next time, which she knew was very possible soon. Demi reached for the bottles, her pants-dropping.

  “Right, let me get you a pair of pants,” Bob said, turning around and heading toward a bedroom. Bob returned, moments later. “These are my niece's she left them here the last time she was over,” he said, handing her a pair of folded pink capri pants. “You can change in the bathroom.”

  Demi put on the hideous pink capri pants that went down to her mid-shin. They were big in the waist and hips but did the job. She put the pill bottles in her jacket pockets and through the torn jeans in the trashcan in the bathroom, relieved not to see them again.

  On her way out, Demi did not look in the direction of Reginald on the ground or Bob who tended to him. Both of them disgusted her. She marched right out through the trailer and back to her bike. With antibiotics in hand, she rode back to the tent where Mike was.

  Chapter Three

  Mike Cromwell

  “Glad you made it back,” Mike said as he saw Demi riding up on her bicycle, returning to the tent. “But your pants,” interjected Mike while Demi put the kickstand down on her bike after he noticed the pink capris pants she wore. “Weren’t you wearing different pants when you left?”

  Demi appeared to be hostile and upset, rummaging through her jacket pocket she found the bottle of amoxicillin. “Here, take one,” she barked, not even looking in Mike’s direction and headed straight for the tent.

  “Demi! What’s going on?” Mike pleaded, confused by her actions and presuming something must have happened while she was getting the antibiotics, but what? Demi zipped up the tent, leaving Mike outside, wondering. He took a capsule from the pill bottle, placing it on the back of his throat and tilting his head back to swallow it.

  Demi emerged from the tent. “You changed!” Mike said.

  “I had to take off those pants,” replied Demi.

  “What happened?” Mike asked again, hoping to understand what happened while Demi gained the antibiotics. However, with the infection, Mike did not have the strength to press the issue much further as fatigue had set in his disease-riddled body and he hunched over exhausted.

  Demi, appearing to let down her anger rushed to Mike’s aid, “Mike! Are you all right?” she asked. Mike held his hands on his knees, feeling weak.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. You were right, I needed something to fight this infection,” Mike muttered in between gasps of air. His breathing labored as he found it more and more difficult to stand.

  Demi rubbed the back of Mike’s shoulders and said, “Let’s get you back in the tent. The good news is once you have had a good dose of the amoxicillin, you will felt better in no time.” Demi walked Mike over back to the tent and helped him down on to the sleeping bag where he fell fast asleep, drained from the minimal exertion that he had done.

  “Demi!” Mike shouted, waking from a deep slumber. “Demi!” Mike yelled once again, his heart pounding.

  Demi turned over and put her hand on his chest. “Mike, I’m right here,” she said, sounding groggy.

  After hearing Demi’s voice, Mike calmed down. “Oh, you’re all right,” stated Mike, still slightly confused about what was going on. His body relaxing as his heart rate returned to normal.

  Demi sat up in the tent, “I think you were having a nightmare,” she said.

  “Must have,” muttered Mike. “I thought someone shot you,” he said, not wanting to utter those words out loud.

  “I’m fine,” assured Demi. “That was a rough night we had, but we made it through.”

  “Right, that was,” affirmed Mike.

  “How are you feeling?” Demi asked. “It’s probably time for you to take another pill.”

  Mike considered his energy level and became surprised at how fast the antibiotics had worked. “You know, I’m feeling much better,” he admitted.

  “Good! But you need to keep up on your doses. I don’t want any antibiotic-resistant strains,” said Demi in a half-way joking manner.

  “Yes, doc,” jested Mike, relieved to find that he was feeling much better. Mike sat up. The light came through the tent. He looked at Demi who sat across from him on her sleeping bag. “Sleep well?”

  “I did. It felt good to get a full night,” she answered. After looking at his face, she added, “You have color back in your face. Such a good sign.” She paused for a moment, looking down. She then looked back at Mike and said, “I was extremely worried about you. I’m glad I got the antibiotics.”

  “Yeah, about that,” started Mike. “What happened?” Mike paused, not wanting to push, but wanting to be there for his friend. “When you came back, you were angry and had on different pants. Did something happen to you?”

  “I tore my pants jumping a fence. A nice person gave me a new pair. That’s all,” answered Demi.

  Mike was certain Demi was not telling him the whole story, but if it truly was serious, he knew she would tell him. He did not press the issue further, although this time his health did not prevent him from doing so, he did out of respect for Demi and their friendship.

  Demi interjected, interrupted the quiet morning. “Ready to hit the road?”

  Mike, excited to get to his family answered with a spark in his eye, “Sure!”

  The pair rolled up their sleeping bags and took down the tent. Mike was much more adept at camping equipment since he first had to watch Demi set it all up. He was a quick learner and wanted to carry his half of the load. Part of him hated that he had to rely on Demi and her abilities. Abilities with music, being a celebrity and pop star, and now her abilities with survival knowledge. Who would have thought the girl who had everyone waiting on her hand and foot knew how to survive when the world as they knew it descended into chaos? The other part of Mike respected Demi for her abilities and was proud to call her his friend. This was a duality that Mike struggled with, even when they were touring. She provided him with the lifestyle he led, but a small part of him resented her for it.

  With Mike’s help, they packed the campsite they made up in no time and the two were back on the road, pedaling. Mike found pedaling to be much easier when he was not fighting an infection. Heeding to Demi’s advice, he made certain to take another round of antibiotics while the pair ate granola bars they received from Lonnie during their short stay with him.

  Mike, amused by the notion of him camping smirked as he remembered how his father used to take Sophie and him to the City of Rocks in Idaho by the Utah and northern Nevada border. He enjoyed climbing rocks with his little sister, but as they grew older both of them lost interest in outdoor activities. Their dad forced neither of them to keep up with being in nature, even though their dad often took trips by himself because he enjoyed the outdoors.

  They rode several miles, the cool morning air hitting Mike’s cheeks. He enjoyed the serene eastern part of Nevada, an area he rarely had seen. He knew that Demi was familiar with this part when she was trying to make it
on her own before they met. Other than the trips he would take with his dad when he was younger, they mostly ventured into Idaho rather than Nevada.

  Mike pedaled faster at the mere thought of seeing his family. Thoughts raced through his head. Were they all right? His niece was only three months old, and Mike hoped they had this whole ordeal would be over soon. He remembered the last he heard about Lily, his niece was that she had a fever. Since a few days had passed since they had last spoken, Mike hoped that they had enough food. He remembered that Sophie told him they had a few days' worth of food on hand, but that was several days ago and things were not back to normal as they had optimistically hoped.

  While Mike pedaled, he berated himself for not warning Sophie more and being forthright with what he knew, and perhaps did not want to believe, that this disaster would not go away in a few days. He put his mind to rest by remembering that Tom, Sophie’s husband found his shotgun. He was certain that he could find ammunition to load it. At least they could protect themselves and hunt if need be.

  Then Mike’s mind wandered to his parents. They were further up the mountain in Salt Lake City from where Sophie and Tom lived. If the fires got out of hand, they could retreat up to their parents’ house and wait out the fires. Right, the fires. Mike’s heart raced again at the thought of Salt Lake City going up in flames. If it was like anything they witnessed in Las Vegas, they were in for a rough stint in the Crossroads of the West.

  While Mike pedaled, a roar of an engine came up behind him and Demi. Both of their heads turned to see the vehicle move pass them. The truck was an old, oxidized-brown color Chevrolet pickup truck. Probably from the sixties from what Mike could tell.

  The truck passed the pair but then slowed down to allow Demi and Mike to catch up to them. The passenger rolled down his window while the truck kept at their speed. A man with a black beard, trucker hat, and flannel shirt stuck his head out and asked, “Where are you two headed? Can we give you a ride?”

  Demi took control of the situation, and answered, “No we’re—”

  After hearing that Demi would turn down the offer of the ride, he quickly interrupted her. “Yes! Yes, we would love a ride. We are headed to Salt Lake City, is it on your way,” yelled Mike in between pedaling.

  The truck pulled over, and the man on the passenger side stuck out his head and said, “You two can ride in the back with your bikes. Our stop is in Provo, but we’ll get you most of the way there.”

  Relief came over Mike. They did not have to use up all of their energy and time pedaling their way to Salt Lake City. They could conserve their strength for when they were reunited with the Cromwell's and Sophie’s married family’s name, the Morris’.

  “Thank you!” Mike yelled to the man with a wave. He then unlatched the tailgate, releasing it. He lifted Demi’s bike and then his. Demi climbed in first, followed by Mike, who lifted the tailgate and engaged the latch. Both Demi and Mike sprawled out, hanging their arms over the walls of the box bed as the truck sped up to highway speed. They both tilted their heads back and closed their eyes, letting the sun hit their skin.

  “Thanks again,” said Mike with a wave as the truck drove off. The pair had landed in Provo, Utah in a few short hours. The ride was quiet as Mike and Demi enjoyed the peace and could relax.

  Demi turned to Mike and said, “I’m glad you took them up on their offer.”

  “I realize they have put us through the wringer with people trying to harm us instead of helping us, but I saw something in the passenger’s eyes. Something I could trust,” admitted Mike. He then added, “Not to mention, I was sure tired of riding that bike. My butt is numb from the seat.”

  Demi giggled, “Yeah, mine too,” she said.

  Mike suggested, “Let’s take the Murdock Canal Trail. There will be less stalled cars out on the road.”

  Demi nodded, “Good idea! I must admit, I’m not that familiar with Utah other than Salt Lake.”

  “Finally, something you don’t know,” jested Mike.

  “I can’t know everything,” mused Demi, mounting her bike and started pedaling.

  Mike was quick to follow, trailing right behind her. “The trailhead a few blocks to our left off of Alpine Highway. Look for signs directing toward Provo River Parkway. We can’t be too far away from it,” he explained.

  After a few turns down the street, Mike took the lead. “The trailhead is this way,” he said, pointing toward a park with the sign that read, Provo River Parkway.

  Inside the Provo River Parkway, the trail lined with cottonwood trees. Few people traveled along the trail, not like how it would be if this had been a regular Saturday afternoon, where there would be people running, jogging, and riding their bikes along the trail. When Mike was younger, he enjoyed hiking on the trail with his dad and sister, although he was more familiar with the end closer to Salt Lake City.

  A few short moments later, Mike and Demi were pedaling on the freshly paved trail that joined Provo to the base of Mount Timpanogos, just south of Salt Lake City. The views of the mountains were breathtaking as the pair pedaled their way. The bikes were not mountain bikes, and the inclines did several Mike’s legs, but he could bear it and even led Demi most of the way.

  “Sophie’s house is just around this corner,” announced Mike as he led Demi through the neighborhood where Sophie lived with her small family. His heart nearly beat out of his chest with anxiety. He did not know what state he would find Sophie, Tom, or Lily. However, he was optimistic that he would find them waiting out this disaster in their home.

  Riding down the street and up to the house, Mike did not have much hope for a cheerful reunion. Flames had decimated the houses on the street where Sophie lived. Charred lumber and ash were what all remained of the entire street.

  Mike stopped the bike and put out his leg, placing the weight on it to anchor himself. “That’s her house,” muttered Mike, pointing to a black house with the windows broken from the heat. All remained was a blackened skeleton of a house, the blue paint on the bottom showed what color the house was.

  “Oh, dear!” Demi gasped as she met up with Mike. “I’m sure they got out!” she said with a hint of panic in her voice. It was difficult to tell if anyone was left inside. The walls were intact but were burnt.

  Tears streamed down Mike’s cheeks, and Demi put her arm around him. “I’m certain Tom and Sophie made it to your parents’ house,” she comforted.

  “Yeah, they must have,” said Mike in between sobs. His hands covering his face so Demi could not see him cry. The sight of his little sister’s home flattened by a ravaging fire was more than he could bear and he was uncertain what state he would find his sister in.

  Demi took a moment to scavenge the rubble, kicking around blackened debris. She went inside the walls, straddling a window. A few moments later, Demi stuck her head out of the small house and yelled at Mike, “Think Lily would want this?” Demi held up a blue teddy bear in her hand. The bear did not appear to be burned at all, as it still had the color blue and was not blackened.

  “Let’s take it with us,” muttered Mike, calming down some. “My parents live up the hill here.” Mike could not get what he saw out of his mind. The remnants of the house. Mike found it difficult to press on, but he had to. He had to find Sophie. Demi came out of the house and got on her bike, the blue bear in hand.

  The two started pedaling, down the street they had come down just moments ago, expecting to find victory, but instead experiencing a grave defeat.

  “Did you see anything while you rummaged through the debris?” Mike asked Demi as they pedaled up the hill, using all of their body weight to get up.

  The sun had gone down, and this had been a long day for Demi and Mike. Mike found the strength to soldier on. Getting to his sister and making sure she was all right was the only thing on his mind.

  “I didn’t. But I did not check everywhere,” answered Demi. “Don’t think the worst until we get to your parents’ house and know what happened.” Mike nod
ded as he pedaled harder. He dug deep to get to the mountaintop of where his parents lived.

  Fatigue set in Mike’s legs, but he kept going. As Demi and he reached the mountain top, he saw his parents’ house. Their neighborhood was dark, but through the windows of the houses, he could see people in them with candles lit.

  As he slowed down to come to a stop at his parents’ house, he saw that several people were sitting around the dining room table. “Look!” Mike shouted after he came to a complete stop at the driveway.

  Demi stopped right behind him. Putting the kickstand down on her bike. “Oh! I knew that made it out!” Demi shouted. Excitement filled her voice.

  Relief fell over Mike, as he could finally exhale for the first time after seeing his sister’s house. There, he saw in the candles' twinkling flames was his sister, Tom, his mom and dad, and Lily who sat on Sophie’s lap. “Thank goodness!” Mike whispered. “I was not sure what I would do if the worst had happened.”

  Demi put her hand on his shoulder and patted. “Such good news,” she affirmed.

  Demi looked around, and Mike could tell she had a suspicious look in her eye. Demi whispered, “Let’s make sure we bring the bikes with us. I don’t want anyone to know that we have any means of transportation.” Demi continued to look over her shoulders.

  “Don’t you think you’re being a little paranoid?” Mike countered. “I mean, this is my parents’ neighborhood. I’ve grown up with these neighbors my entire life. There is nothing but good people here.”

  Demi admonished, “I thought we’ve gone over the desperate people/desperate actions thing before.”

  Mike caught on to what Demi was saying and answered, “You’re right. Let’s take the bikes inside.” The pair wheeled their bikes up the driveway and to the front door.

  Mike’s body raced with anticipation to see his family once again. He knocked and waited, his heart racing. A second later, his dad answered the door. His eyes glimmered as he saw Mike. “Mike!” John Cromwell shouted. “You made it! Helene, Mike’s home!” John was a lion of a man and Mike’s hero. Standing six-foot, five inches, with big muscular shoulders and chest, he was everything Mike was not. It wasn’t that Mike did not want to emulate his dad, it was that Mike had an artistic calling, one that required him to learn to read music, hone is percussion skills, and to explore his musical side. That did not leave much time for working out, doing DIY projects at the house, or hiking on one of the many trails Utah had to offer.