“Are we staying here for the night?” Erika asks. “This is the perfect spot to rest. It has shelter and a bathroom.”
“Maybe. First, I have to check to make sure the area is clear of people, aliens, and the Tracking Bots.”
“Tracking Bots,” I repeat, committing that name to memory. “That’s exactly what they were.”
“You better believe it,” Michael says. He hands me his gun. “Here’s my gun.”
“You’ve got bullets?”
“Reach in my backpack.” He takes it off and places it against a tree. “You’ll find a box. Load up the magazine.”
I do as he says. I look at the gun and the bullets, and my mind begins to recall what I’d forgotten.
“You alright, Kris?” Michael asks.
I snap out of my daze, smiling as if nothing’s wrong. “Yes, I’m good.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Alright, it’s going to take me a while to check the area. Kill anything that’s a threat. Man, beast, or alien.” He leaves with the alien weapon in hand, heading for the back of the welcome center first.
Erika parks under a tree and stuffs new tissue up an angry nostril. “I think Blonde Scar hit me in the face because she’s jealous,” she grumbles.
“Yeah, sure, that’s the exact reason why.” I shake my head at the nonsense. “Everyone is not stuck on looks like you are.”
“You think I deserved this, don’t you? You’re inwardly happy that I got my face busted in by that demon alien? Admit it.”
“Erika, I don’t think you deserved it, and no, I’m not happy about you getting hurt.”
“Oh, that’s right; you’re morally perfect.”
“I can’t win with you.” I shake my head.
She sighs loudly. “Can I ask you a question?”
“No, since you’re asking if you can ask.”
“Whatever. I was wondering if your brother is gay.”
“No.”
“I hugged him earlier, and he acted like I was the plague. He wouldn’t touch me.”
“Erika, I know you’re not used to gentlemen, but that was my brother being a gentleman.”
“Are you sure he’s not gay because that was a very gay move.”
“Stop talking.” I turn my back to her. Every single time she opens her mouth, I hate her more. I never hate anyone, but she’s working on being the first.
“My boyfriend was a gentleman,” she says. “I know what it’s like to date one.”
“Boyfriend?” I ask, catching on to that singular noun.
“Yes, he was great. He took me to Hawaii.”
“When was this?”
“Very recently, last month. It’s so gorgeous on that island. Now, that’s the place to live out an alien invasion.”
“You went with your boyfriend?”
“Yes, clean your ears.”
“Clean my ears? What? You need to stop lying.”
“Why do you think I’m lying?”
“You told me that your husband was killed in that house back in Chantilly. You told Gabe and Michael and me that you were married.”
She turns her head away, stuffing the tissue up the other nostril.
“So busy running your mouth that you can’t keep up with your lies. Just stop it.”
“There’s a perfect explanation, and I wasn’t lying about any of it.”
“You have nothing to prove to me, Erika. I don’t care what kind of life you’ve lived. There’s nothing to brag about.”
Erika covers her eyes. Her bottom lip quivers. Is she about to cry? Did I hurt her feelings? There’s no way.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” she sniffs and wipes her tears. “I’ve just had it hard.”
I’m not sure if she’s lying again or not. I narrow my eyes at her.
“Okay, you’re right. I’ve been lying. I haven’t been anywhere. I was never married. I was trying to impress you, your brother…and your boyfriend, but Michael didn’t seem to care. Your boyfriend asked too many questions. I didn’t have the answers.”
“So you admit you were trying to steal Gabe.”
“What can I say?” She shrugs. “He was cute, not like the caveman you described him to be. There’s something else.”
“Should I be concerned?”
“I knew Quin and Diane.”
“The two back in Chantilly?” This revelation floors me. I didn’t get that impression at all.
“Yes, but he really held me against my will. That was not a lie. You saw it.”
“What happened? And I want the complete truth. No more lies.”
“Okay, fine. Let me start from the beginning. So, you’ll get the context.” She removes the tissue from her nostril, exhales, and begins, “I used to live in Washington DC. I was a student. The day of the invasion, I was stuck. There was a huge spaceship over the city, and I mean that thing was massive. The lightning spaceships were destroying everything. The Washington Monument. The Jefferson Memorial. All the surrounding government buildings and neighborhoods. It was a full blown attack. I mean, you name the place, it’s gone. All of it is gone, but I got out. Me and a few of my friends. Their families lived in different parts of the country, and since they were so far away, I offered my home in Chantilly. That’s where my dad lived, and I figured we could hang out until this thing passed. We didn’t make it to Chantilly that first day because we set out too late in the day, but we got as far as Vienna, Virginia. We slept in the mall in that area, did a little…looting since I’m being honest here. Anyway, we camped out in the mall, and the next morning, when I woke up, I found all of my friends were dead. Their clothes were still where they slept, but their bodies had turned to dust.” Erika gestures at me, meaning I know what she’s talking about. Of course, I do. She continues, “I left out of there, and I eventually made it home. I thought I was good to go. My dad was there, and he was fine. He had the mark on his neck, like you. Anyway, not long after I showed up, Quin and Diane came over. I knew them from when I was in high school. They didn’t live in the immediate area. Their families were poor, didn’t have much. They robbed us of our food and shot my dad. They killed everybody along that street and robbed them all. They figured since there was no one to stop them, then why not. Quin said that he saved my life because he was going to marry me. He had a crush on me since high school. He wanted to have his kids with me. He was disgusting, a horrible person. And that’s the truth. Okay, I wasn’t married to a famous video game tech god, and I never had a thirty thousand dollar wedding. I’m sorry. Okay. I am.”
“Why did you make up such an elaborate lie?”
“Because I’ve always gotten away with it, and I’ve always gotten the attention I wanted. Lies have gotten me very far. So I figured why not.”
I guess I have to be in her shoes to understand. “Do you have a sister in Woodbridge?”
“No. It’s just me now.”
“Is your real name Erika Herriot?”
“My last name is Howell.”
“Well, Erika Howell, you would have gotten the same compassion if not more by simply telling me what you just said when I first spoke to you.”
“I’m sorry, Kris. I didn’t mean any harm.”
“From here on out, no more lies. There’s no need. We are here to help each other, to make it through, and the last thing we need is distrust. That alone will get us killed.”
“I know. You’re right.”
Erika Herriot or Erika Howell is definitely an experience.
“He knew I was lying,” she says.
“Who?”
“Gabe. I didn’t think I would run into someone who was into video games like he was. He kept asking me questions about Herobitbot. I had to make up stuff, and he saw right through me. He was nice though. He pretended like I mattered. It’s like he felt sorry for me.”
“He was being nice, because like my brother, Gabe was a gentleman.”
“You’re lucky,”
she says. “The only good person I had in my life was my dad, and he’s gone. At least, you have your brother still.”
The sting of Gabe’s loss hurts a little more, but I try to hold back my tears.
Erika laughs, looks up. She lets the tears fall from her eyes. “Feels good to tell the truth. It really does.”
We talk more about where she went to school and studied. I have to say though. I still believe there’re bits of untruths.
Michael returns with an all-clear report and good news. He says there are bicycles on the front and back of a camper, four of them. I’m elated and over the moon. Our walking days might be over.
DAY SIX
C H A P T E R
44
Erika stirs from where she sleeps in the corner. Coughing, she gets on her feet and stumbles to the women’s room. The door slams, waking Michael. He scratches his head and stretches.
“What was that?” he asks.
“The door. Erika is in the restroom.”
Michael stands and yawns loudly. “Thanks for keeping watch last night. Nothing bad happened? No emergencies?”
“It was all quiet.”
“You want to get some rest before we head out?” Michael is shuffling through his bag. “I’ll give you a couple of hours, but then we have to get moving.”
“I got enough sleep during your watch. I’m fine.”
“I can hear you thinking, Sis. What’s going on in that brain?”
“It’s strange that we haven’t seen the aliens since yesterday. You’d think they’d still be after us.”
“They figured we were in that house. That’s why they destroyed it.”
“But if that were you, wouldn’t you want to make sure we hadn’t escaped? Wouldn’t you send out another Tracker Bot to be sure?”
“I would, but he wouldn’t. He’s done with us. In his eyes, we’re dead. He’s no different, other than where he comes from, than my lieutenant.” Michael brings out a toothbrush and toothpaste. “You see, Sis, that alien is the type that hates to look bad in front of his troops. If he didn’t kill us, he doesn’t want to know about it. He wants everyone to believe he got the job done, and he can move on to the next chase. If he knows we got away, he may look incompetent to his ranking command and his troops.”
I hear a high pitch sound from outside. It’s getting closer. I look out the window. Seeds fly over, and they’re heading directly for the column of smoke in the distance.
“Michael, how can you be so sure? They’re totally different from us.”
“Why? Because they’re from outer space? Because they look different? Speak a different language? That’s all superficial. There’s nothing new with these aliens that I haven’t seen a thousand times. That alien has his pride on the line, and he’s not about to damage it. As far as he’s concerned, we died in that house.”
“If you say so.”
“Take my word for it, Sis. I know so.”
“Before you go in the bathroom, we have to talk. It’s kind of important.” I’ve been thinking about this subject ever since yesterday when he handed me the gun. I haven’t been able to shake it.
Michael stands at the door by me, giving me his full attention. “What’s up?”
I lower my gaze, not wanting to see my brother’s reaction. “When Mr. Resnik died, you took something from his bed. I want to know what it was.”
“It was nothing.”
“Michael, you walked in there, and you took something off the bed.” Now, I look in his eyes, so he’ll know I’m serious. “What did you take?”
“Leave it alone. You don’t want the truth.”
“Yes, I do, or I wouldn’t be asking.”
“Kris, if I tell you, you’ll have the wrong impression.”
“What does that supposed to mean?”
“Do me a favor, and don’t ask me the question again. Leave it in the past. It’s best that you don’t know.” Michael walks away, going directly to the bathroom.
I’m going to find out the truth, and he’s going to tell me. Or I’m going to get on his nerve for the rest of our living days. I’ve got nothing but time.
C H A P T E R
45
We peddle with haste on Interstate 70. To our left, we see Rods and the movement of Swarms on the ground. Buildings crumble under their relentless assault. Fire consumes pockets of forests nearby. It’s a horrifying sight to see from where we are. This isn’t a war, not by any means. It’s total annihilation. The aliens are unchallenged, and they’re winning.
The skies grow darker ahead. Seeds light up, destroying targets below them. I don’t want to go any farther, but Michael is dead set on the path he’s taking. I can tell Erika isn’t so crazy about our trajectory either. She keeps looking over at me, wondering if he’s made the right decision.
Hagerstown is coming up, but we never really see the actual city. Fires are to our right now. Thick plumes of smoke roll over the highway at times. We hear and feel the rumblings of the attacks. They’re so close. Too close.
Exit 29 is in our sights. Beyond that, fire licks at the sky and blocks the road. We won’t be able to cross there. We have to take the exit ramp, and I do not like it one bit.
Without discussion, we go the easy route, down the ramp. The choices at the end of the road are Hagerstown to the right or Sharpsburg to the left. Apparently, with the fire and the spaceships to our right, the decision is made without talking about it.
Sharpsburg Pike is the road we’re on, but we don’t stay on it for long. There’s another street, Rench Road, up ahead. Michael wants to take it. I don’t think he knows where he’s going. We follow him anyway. It ends at Downsville Pike.
“Which way?” Erika asks Michael.
He’s looking to the right, the area where the black smoke and fire has a hold.
“Not that way,” I beg him.
“We have no choice, Kris.”
“Seriously!”
He pushes off, cycling in that direction.
Erika and I follow him. Around half a mile up, Michael stops. Sterling Road goes to the left. He takes it. Now I know he doesn’t know where he’s going. There is absolutely no way, but I must admit, there aren’t any fires up ahead.
“Michael!”
“I got this, Kris. Keep pushing. Just keep pushing!”
He’s pissing me off.
After crossing railroad tracks, we’re in a neighborhood. Houses are close to the road, but it’s not that many. At the end of Sterling is Governor Lane Boulevard. Michael isn’t so sure which way to go, but he decides on going to the right. Highway 70 is nowhere in sight, and I have a feeling we’re officially lost. It’s not long before we reach a major intersection. To the left is a blue highway sign. It reads JCT INTERSTATE 81. That’s where we need to go.
Not letting Michael decide this time, I peddle hard towards the junction. Erika is right on my tail. Michael yells after us while trying to catch up. The sign to the onramp says Harrisburg. We’re back on track, and the fire is a little bit behind us. As soon as we see Interstate 81 and the still traffic, we see another sign that indicates Interstate 70 is at Exit 4. I don’t know how far it is, but we’re back on course. And we’ve gone around the fire.
Another exit pops up within minutes. Construction cones line the road. It’s not a problem and not in the way. Exit 4B to Hancock is where we get off and take the fun curve around to Interstate 70.
I’m smiling. We’re doing good. We’re making excellent progress. I cycle with a little more excitement. Hagerstown will be behind us soon. The fires are at our backs. Safety is in the future.
C H A P T E R
46
Warfordsburg, Pennsylvania
We entered into the Keystone State a little while back with zero fanfare, but I had an instant sense of accomplishment. We’ve come a long way and overcome a lot. I’m happy. Pennsylvania is home. It’s been years since I’ve been back. The state is still beautiful with her grand hills, thick forests, and her big blue sk
ies. There’s just something different about this place.
We approach Exit 168. Under the bridge, I swear I hear someone whispering. As soon as we appear from the other side, a shot is fired. I fall off my bike. Erika swerves. It looks like her foot has hit the front wheel. She lands on the asphalt, bruising her knee. Michael stops and gets off his bike. I run over to check on Erika. Her arm is scratched up. Her lip bleeds in the same spot. The bruise on the knee, while superficial, looks awful. She’s hopping mad and cussing.
Suddenly, more shots ring out. At first, I think it’s coming from the top of the bridge, but it’s Michael. He’s shooting his pistol at no one. He fires once more. I try to see who it is, but I don’t see a head or hand. But I do hear a fast cadence of footsteps leaving the bridge. Michael calmly takes off his backpack. He gets the alien weapon that’s attached to the top of it and starts up the grassy rise to the exit ramp. Once he reaches the top, Michael fires down the road. The laser is lightning fast, and from the screams, I can tell the target is hit. Michael takes off running.
“Not again,” I remark, going up the hill.
As soon as I get to the top, I see my brother. A man is on the ground, holding his bloody leg. Another guy stands away from him with his arms up. Michael points the alien weapon at the man who’s standing.
“NO! PLEASE! I’M SORRY!” the man screams frantically.
Michael shoots him. The blast cuts through his chest and out the back. I’m startled. I wasn’t expecting him to kill that guy.
The man on the ground with the bleeding leg begins dragging himself, trying to get away. Michael kills him next. A headshot from the back. Proud of what he’s done, he takes a closer look. Then kicks the dead man’s arm. Stunned, I back away.
I think back to all those times I’ve spent with Michael, to what I’ve seen him do on this journey, and to our life together before the invasion. It fits. Michael is all about having the upper hand. He’s competitive and won’t give up. Anyone that’s against him is the enemy.
Dust to Dust: An Apocalyptic Thriller Page 18