“That’s so bizarre,” Chloe said.
“Who would send him that?” I asked, wondering whether I’d be upset if someone sent me a bunch of books. If they were books about Judaism and the Holocaust I’d be offended they assumed I hadn’t read them already, at a minimum.
Hunter shrugged. “I guess there was a note that said, You’ve got a lot to learn. Not signed, of course. He was all, why would people think he didn’t know his own history? And I have to admit, I felt like a jerk, because I didn’t even realize he was Black, you know?”
Exactly what I’d been thinking, but I was glad I hadn’t said it. I’d assumed he wasn’t white, but he could have told us he was Latinx or Southeast Asian and I wouldn’t have been surprised. I’d never have asked, because it was none of my business.
“I guess his mom’s Black and his dad’s Mormon, if you can imagine that,” Hunter said.
“Why wouldn’t we be able to imagine that?” Chloe asked.
“It just seemed like a strange pairing to me is all,” he said. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just telling you what he told me.”
“Is he okay?” I asked. I felt this odd protectiveness toward Wyatt. He seemed so sheltered, so much younger than the rest of us, even though he wasn’t. Chloe was right about me being everyone’s mama, apparently. So strange that she already knew me better than I knew myself. And definitely better than I knew her.
“I don’t know,” Hunter said. “I guess we’ll find out this weekend.”
“After Amina becomes famous!” Chloe shouted.
“Famous for what?” Hunter asked.
“I’m putting her on my Insta. She’s going to blow up. Everyone at school will want to know who she is.”
I hoped she was kidding.
7.
Hunter let us know that he’d be claiming all of Saturday for his game, so we met in the bunker that morning. I scanned Wyatt’s face, trying to get a sense of how he was feeling, but either he wasn’t showing much or I didn’t know him well enough to tell. I supposed that meant I could focus on the game. We all sprawled on the floor, with Hunter sitting in one of the folding chairs before us.
“I told Wyatt I’d be up for going next,” Hunter began, “but I have to say, deciding what to do and how to do it was way harder than I thought. He gave me some really helpful advice, so if this works, it’s thanks to him.”
Wyatt blushed. “You did all the hard stuff,” he said.
“Anyway,” Hunter went on, “I think you all know that my biggest fears are about the environment. Which is a really big thing to be afraid of, between the climate crisis and natural disasters and all the problems with water and drilling and fracking, not to mention that whole thing about how the world is going to exhaust its resources by the time we’re middle-aged. It just gets so overwhelming sometimes.”
No kidding—it was overwhelming just hearing him talk about it.
“So for my game, I thought a lot about what we could do that would really illustrate the scope of the problem. But sitting in a sauna to get used to living in extreme heat or pretending to get ready for some big flood didn’t seem like enough, you know? There isn’t really one thing we can do that will make us feel prepared. That’s why I decided it might be better for us to just help.” He paused and cleared his throat, but his voice still cracked at the next part. “I haven’t told y’all much about my brother, but his name’s Caleb. He’s the one who started me thinking about the environment and the ways people are making it worse. Caleb got involved with this organization called the Earth Liberation Movement—it’s all about supporting the use of natural energy sources.”
“Isn’t it also about sabotage?” Chloe asked.
I was surprised to hear her speak up. She sounded a little judgmental, too. Not that she couldn’t be judgmental when she wanted to be, but something about her tone was sharper than it was during our normal lunch debates.
“It’s open to more aggressive action, yeah.” Hunter hesitated. There was something he wasn’t telling us. “Actually, my brother got into a little trouble working with them once, and I haven’t seen him for a while because of that. It’s how I ended up here. But we’re getting sidetracked.”
“Are we, though?” Jo asked.
“Maybe we should let him talk?” Wyatt asked, in his tentative way. It worked—he could somehow cut through tension just by being himself.
“All right, let me start over,” Hunter said. “The Earth Liberation Movement, which goes by ELM, is coming to Vermont today to protest the Addison County gas pipeline. It’s a project that local people fought in court, arguing that building it would slow the use of wind and solar energy in the state, but they lost, and Vermont Gas finished the pipeline a couple of years ago. Except it’s already starting to fail, which means the company has to do repair work, which is intrusive. ELM’s protest is geared toward getting the company to acknowledge the pipe isn’t working.”
“And to do some damage to it in the meantime, right?” Chloe asked.
Hunter was starting to get upset. The vibe now was completely different from our lunchtime debates; there, while it was clear Hunter and Chloe had different ideas about how to handle issues, they always seemed to be having a good time debating them. This was already far less fun. “Look,” Hunter said, “I don’t know what you’ve got against people taking a stand for what they believe in, but—”
“I didn’t say that,” Chloe said. “I just thought you were a law-and-order guy—this pipeline went through the legal process, and your side lost. What’s left to say?” She sounded downright combative. Maybe I’d been wrong that she wasn’t mad about the last game; maybe she was, and she was taking it out on Hunter.
“I think we’re all just worried about getting in trouble,” I said. Wyatt shouldn’t be the only one trying to defuse the situation. Besides, I felt a tug of sympathy now that I knew about his brother. I couldn’t imagine what I’d do if Shana ever went missing. “You haven’t told us about the game yet—you’re not going to have us blow up the pipeline or something, right?”
“I would never ask you to do that.” Hunter’s face had fallen. I didn’t really think he wanted us to do that either, but whatever his plan was, it was time for him to spell it out. “Look, it’s mostly just a protest. It’s going to be totally safe. There’ll be some other organizations there too, along with the National Lawyers Guild, just to make sure things don’t get out of hand. You can stay as far away from the actual pipeline itself as you want. I understand if you don’t want to go, but I’m going to.”
He looked so dejected I couldn’t help but want to make things better. “I’m in. It sounds kind of exciting.”
“What’s the game, though?” Jo asked. Of course she’d be the one to ask straight out, though she was right. I wanted to know too. We hadn’t even decided on a prize for our games, but it almost didn’t matter—the only one of us who never gave off a particularly cutthroat vibe was Wyatt. Maybe he was just hiding his dark side.
“I thought we could make this about putting together the best go-bag. The protest doesn’t start until later this afternoon, so everyone would have a couple of hours to put theirs together.” Hunter briefly explained the concept of go-bags: they were meant to contain everything we’d need to make it after a catastrophe, tweaked depending on what the catastrophe actually was.
“How will you evaluate?” I asked.
“I’ll look at what you bring and what you actually use,” he said.
“Sounds good to me,” Wyatt said. “That work for everyone else?”
We all turned to look at Chloe, given that she seemed to be the most opposed to this particular game. But she just tossed her perfect hair. “Who am I to resist the opportunity to win a game based on accessorizing?”
She had a point. We were all in trouble.
“Okay, then, let’s meet by the Jacob Hawthorne Gardner statue at noon,” Hunter said.
“How are we getting there?” Wyatt asked.
&
nbsp; Hunter assured him he had it covered, and we all went back to our rooms to put our bags together. I knew Chloe thought she had this one locked down, but I planned to give her a run for her money. I threw as much as I could into my backpack, checking the weather before I left and adding an umbrella in case it rained, which I hoped would give me an edge.
It was drizzling by the time I got to the statue, and Chloe was already complaining about her hair, which she’d pinned into some kind of elaborate bun. Hunter was obviously feeling sensitive about how miserable we all were, because he volunteered to buy everyone hot chocolate.
“Just tell me we’re not walking,” Chloe said. “This weather is a total downer.”
She’d barely finished speaking when a black SUV pulled up right in front of us, a middle-aged white guy in flannel driving. “You found a Lyft? Here?” Jo asked.
“Something like that,” Hunter said. “It’s ours for the day.”
I stared at him with the realization that Hunter was definitely not a scholarship kid. It wasn’t exactly that I’d assumed he was—he gave off an air of entitlement sometimes, but I thought the combination of being male, white, good-looking, and athletic pretty much explained it. He cared so much about his education I’d figured he was more like me than not.
“What?” he asked.
Now I looked at everyone else. No one seemed quite as surprised as I was. “Nice ride, Prince Harry,” Jo said. “And now the princess doesn’t have to walk.”
I’d never put together that Jo’s occasional nicknames for Hunter and Chloe were connected. Did she know something I didn’t?
We piled into the enormous SUV—it had three rows!—and, true to his word, Hunter made the driver stop for hot chocolate. The sugar cheered everyone up. “The site’s about an hour away,” he said, “so maybe we should check out everyone’s go-bags on the way, just to get this party started?”
“I’ll take notes,” I said, getting out my phone. We arranged the contents of our bags next to us and started comparing, with Chloe in charge of going through the items. Lots of us had brought umbrellas, so no competitive advantage for me there; Hunter was the only one who’d thought to bring a rain poncho as well, but he couldn’t win so it didn’t matter. We’d all remembered water bottles and snacks, mostly Kind bars stolen from the dining hall, but only Chloe had thought to bring a first-aid kit. She really was going to win this thing. I’d brought a Sharpie so we could write each other’s phone numbers on our arms, in case we didn’t have access to our own phones for some reason. Jo had brought pepper spray and a bandanna for her face, which made me realize she was ready to get into it for real. I hadn’t quite decided what I was going to do yet, whether I’d hang back with the National Lawyers Guild or what, but my mind was quickly made up when I saw the rest of Hunter’s bag.
“What’s this stuff for?” I asked, as Chloe held up a hammer and a pair of handcuffs.
“Got a little kink in you, Red,” Jo said. “I like it.”
“Put those back,” Hunter said. “I thought I—”
“Hid them in a special pocket so we wouldn’t see?” Chloe asked. “Yeah, no, we’re not stupid. So much for not getting arrested.”
“Look, you don’t have to come with me,” he said. “But I’m in this for real. I’m willing to go as far as I need to.”
“You’re really willing to get arrested?” I asked. “They’ll never let you be a member of the bar after that.”
“You’d be surprised what you can get away with and still be a member of the bar.”
How would he know? It probably had something to do with having money. The rich knew how to get out of anything. “I don’t know about this.”
“You don’t have to come with me for that part,” he said.
“I’m not going to, if you don’t mind,” Wyatt said. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to get involved with the police.”
He seemed nervous—had those mysterious books he’d been sent made him anxious about being a biracial person in one of the whitest states in the country? Or had he always been cautious? Brooksby was a pretty white town, but even I knew Wyatt was being sensible here, not overly careful. I wished he didn’t have to worry, but then again, wasn’t that why we were here? To learn how to make the world better?
“I’ll stay back with Wyatt, then,” I said. “He shouldn’t have to be on his own.” Guess I wouldn’t be winning this game either. So much for my competitive spirit.
“I totally get it,” Hunter said, though he did look a little disappointed. I was too.
“I got you, Red,” Jo said. “If we’re going to do this, let’s do it right. You got another hammer hidden away somewhere?”
“Just the one,” he said, already sounding happier. “But ELM will have extra stuff, I’m sure.”
“You don’t know this is going to work,” Chloe said.
“You don’t know it won’t, Princess,” Jo said. “Come on, join the fun.”
“Well, I am the only one who brought a first-aid kit,” she said. “You might need me.”
I wasn’t entirely shocked she’d changed her mind, though I had to admit I’d hoped she would stay behind with me and Wyatt. Hunter directed the driver to drop us off at the barrier near the site, though we’d still had a little ways to go before we got to the good stuff. He explained how things were likely to play out as we walked. “As we get closer, you’re going to see different groups of protestors, though sometimes it won’t be obvious who’s who. The group the farthest out will be the people who are upset about the pipeline and who show up because they know other people will be here. It’s fine to stay with them if you want—it’s too far to see what’s really going on, but it’s safe.” He inclined his head toward me and Wyatt. I wasn’t sure we needed to be quite that safe, but we could decide after we knew more.
“If you’re looking to be a little closer to the action without getting too hands-on yourself, your best bet is to hang with Greenpeace—they’ve got a big group coming. They’ll give you signs to carry and they’ll have an area roped off, with lawyers at the perimeter.” Wyatt was nodding now, and I was relieved.
“Those of us who want to get close to the pipeline are going to find ELM,” Hunter continued. We were now on a dirty road leading to the protest site, which looked like a random stretch of grass and trees just off the main road. The rain was still just a sprinkle, not heavy enough to get out the umbrellas but strong enough to be annoying. “They’ll have one group blocking access to the pipe so the repair workers can’t get in, and then there’s another group digging down to a section of pipe to get access. They’ll try to damage it. Destroy it, if possible.”
“How long will this go on?” I asked. “Should we pick a place to meet up?”
“I have no idea,” Hunter said. “It’ll probably go on until it gets broken up.” He meant “by the cops” but I appreciated him not saying it. “Check your phones in two hours? We’ll see where we are then?”
We all gave the okay. Hunter led the push through the crowd as we entered the protest area, and he stopped at the Greenpeace section, where Wyatt and I planned to stay. I watched as he, Chloe, and Jo pushed through the throng, and it wasn’t until they were out of my line of sight that I turned to the Greenpeace protestor who was handing out the signs.
“You okay, staying here with me?” Wyatt asked. “Really? Because if you want—”
“This is what I want,” I told him, but it was only sort of true, and I could tell he knew it. Now that we were here, I thought maybe I understood what Hunter felt and the urge to help. Making change seemed possible here in a way that it didn’t in our day-to-day lives, and I found myself wanting to take out all my frustrations on an object that could stand in for everything that enraged me about the world. Holding a sign was nice and all, but it wasn’t the same. Honestly, it was boring.
At least I had Wyatt to talk to. We chatted for a while about regular stuff—school, classes, the basics—but it wasn’t long before we started
talking about Eucalyptus and what had made Wyatt want to start it. “We’ve already played your game, but you never told us what you’re really afraid of,” I said.
“Do you want the real reason or the serious reason?” he asked.
“Those are different?”
He nodded, his shaggy hair flying all over the place. The rain made his curls tighter even as it made my hair a frizzy mess. “Okay, don’t laugh, but I’ve always been obsessed with zombies. I know they aren’t real, I know they’re like scientifically impossible, but I’ve read a ton of comic books and novels about them and as soon as I got here I started catching up on the movies, and there is some amazing stuff out there, you have no idea.” He was bouncing now. I loved how excited he got, how unembarrassed he was by his own enthusiasm.
“Zombies,” I said, as deadpan as I could.
He giggled. “Let’s try the serious version, then. I’m afraid of disease. I’m not a germophobe or anything; it’s more like the realistic version of the zombie fear, you know? I’m afraid of biological warfare, of people not immunizing their kids so we all die of German measles or something stupid, or some superflu wiping out humanity. We could all get sick and almost everyone would die and the rest of us wouldn’t know what to do.”
That explained his Game Night question. It also explained his course load, which was almost all science and math. It was why we didn’t have any classes together. “Do you want to be a doctor, then?”
“It’s the only way I can think of to help,” he said. “I’ve always liked science but there was no way to do hard-core lab work on the commune. I already love being at a real school.”
How to Pack for the End of the World Page 9