by Justin Sloan
Jaxon poked at an oil stain on her shoulder. “But why are you dirty?”
“I tripped and fell into a really nasty puddle. And then I kind of forgot to change when I got back.”
His frown grew deeper for a second, but then he just shrugged. “Are you going back out again? Because we’re out of milk.”
She froze, not even sure how to respond. It’d been so long since she’d worried about something as mundane as grocery shopping.
“Yeah,” she said. "Sure. Actually, I’m going to head out now. I’ll be right back.”
Jaxon nodded a couple of times and pointed down at the cereal scattered on the carpet. “I’ll clean this up while you’re gone.” He sounded more like a weary parent than a kid.
“Thanks, Jax. Sorry about the mess. I didn’t mean to make you spill.”
He shrugged and set to work picking the cereal off the floor. But Kaylin pulled him back to her and kissed the top of his head one more time.
“Ew,” he muttered, wrinkling his nose again.
She ignored him and cuddled him closer. “Love you bunches.”
He softened and wrapped his tiny arms back around her neck. “Love you, too, Kay.”
Those four murmured words filled her with a burst of warmth that melted away the last of her numb shock. She’d always thought her search for revenge had filled her with fire, but it’d merely been a weak spark compared to the burning protectiveness filling her chest now.
“I’ll be right back, okay?” she said. “I’ll only be gone a few minutes. I promise.”
Jaxon nodded hesitantly, and it took every ounce of willpower she had to make herself let him go and walk to the door. She didn’t want to leave, not so soon after getting him back. Not ever.
But the minutes were ticking down to the start of the invasion, and if she was going to save his life, she needed to get moving.
KAYLIN MARCHED DOWN THE HALLWAY, heading straight for the apartment at the far end. She had never actually come this way before, and there was a damn good reason for that: the apartment at the end of the hallway belonged to Ian.
She didn’t know his last name, and didn’t want to. All she really knew for sure about Ian was that he’d fought overseas in the Army forty years ago. Kaylin didn’t know if he’d always been off his rocker, or if his sanity had gotten trapped and buried in the graves of his fellow soldiers. Whatever the reason, he rarely stepped outside his apartment. When he did, he’d just pace up and down the hallways, muttering to himself and wringing an old Army baseball cap in his hands.
And there was one other thing she knew about him: the crazy old veteran was her best shot for saving Jaxon.
She rapped sharply on his door. No answer came, sending a jolt of panic through her body. She knocked again, practically pounding on it this time.
The door swung open not even two seconds later, and the barrel of a shotgun jabbed toward her. Kaylin instinctively reached for the rifle slung over her shoulder, only to realize it wasn’t there. Somewhere in the rush to escape, she must have lost the rifle she’d been given. She held in a curse and slowly raised her hands above her head.
"It's just me," she said, forcing herself to look away from the shotgun and meet the eyes of the man holding it.
Ian looked healthier and more alert than she'd ever seen him. He was clean shaven and wearing an unwrinkled set of clothes, and his Army cap was on top of his bald head, instead of being strangled in his hands. His skin was just as jaundiced as usual, and his wrinkled hands tremored slightly, but his sharp grey eyes narrowed steadily on her. It seemed the prospect of another war had been enough to bring some life back into the old veteran.
"What do you want?" he demanded.
"Your help.”
He scoffed and started to close the door. "Already tried giving that, and you blew me off."
Kaylin leapt forward, jamming her boot in the doorway to keep it from shutting. "I was being stupid. I realize that now."
Ian stared down at her foot, surprise flashing across his face as he took in her worn, grimy boot. He tilted his head to one side and gave her disheveled appearance a long look from top to bottom. "Where've you been, girl?" he asked, his words slow and thoughtful.
She gestured down the hall, toward her apartment. "I’ve just been hunkering down like everyone else.”
He rolled his jaw back and forth. "Bullshit. Something's different about you. You've been somewhere."
She swallowed hard and bit back the urge to lie to him. After all, this was Ian she was talking to. She hardly needed to worry about coming across as insane.
"I went to the future," she said, struggling to keep her voice even. "I saw what happened. I know we all die, everyone in this building. And I need to get my brother away from here before that happens. So please, for the love of god, help me."
Ian just stared at her for a long, uncomfortable second. Then he shook his head and took a step back, gesturing with the barrel of his shotgun for her to step inside.
"You're talking crazy, but you're finally making some sense. Come on in."
Kaylin stepped inside, and Ian immediately slammed the door closed behind her, bolting it shut. She peered around his apartment, trying not to show surprise. She’d been expecting the apartment to be messy and cluttered, just like Ian’s mind. Instead, it was so freakishly clean, it hardly looked like anyone even lived there. The furniture was sparse, the walls undecorated, and every surface was dusted and polished to a shine.
The only sign that Ian even lived there was a neat stack of supplies in the corner of his living room. It was piled high with boxes of water and food, thermal blankets, and electric lanterns. And ammo. Lots and lots of ammo.
He was ready to live through an apocalypse. The poor man had no idea he was about to be incinerated by a bomb in a matter of hours.
Ian faced her with his arms crossed and his eyes still narrowed suspiciously. He didn’t offer for her to take a seat, and she didn’t dare move away from the door.
“What you told me a few weeks ago,” she said. “About getting Jaxon out of here. Is it still possible?”
Ian shrugged. “Should be.”
She let out a relieved breath. Two weeks before the invasion began, Ian had cornered Kaylin in the hall and told her she needed to get her brother out of the city. He'd been trembling with amped up energy as he approached her, saying that the government was wrong, that he’d heard from sources that the military wouldn’t be able to fight back the impending invasion. Cleveland was doomed, he claimed. They weren’t facing a siege; they were facing a slaughter.
He told her that he had friends who were taking action, former veterans and other fighters who’d joined forces in a guerilla rebellion against the aliens. The Resistance, they called themselves. Their time to fight was coming soon, but for now, they were focusing on saving as many innocent lives as they could. That included Jaxon, along with every other child under the age of fifteen. If she could get Jaxon to the Resistance, they would evacuate him from the city and save his life.
In the past, Kaylin had smiled politely at Ian, nodded along, and edged back into her apartment before slamming the door in his face. She hadn’t believed a word he’d said. She’d had no reason not to believe the military’s claim that they could fend off the invaders, and she’d thought Ian’s “sources” were the voices inside his head that’d driven him mad.
It was only after she’d lost her brother that she’d learned Ian had been telling the truth. The Resistance was real, and they’d saved hundreds of children in Cleveland by ferrying them across Lake Erie and into the remote wilderness of Ontario, where they had a fortified mountain hideout. Had she simply listened to Ian, Jaxon never would have been killed.
Kaylin wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. If Ian had information on how to get Jaxon into the safe hands of the Resistance, she was going to get it from him.
“Where are the Resistance staying in Cleveland?” Kaylin asked.
Ian’s bushy eyeb
rows rose. “What makes you suddenly think they’re real? I thought you’d decided they were all in my head.”
“Cut the bullshit. I know they’re real, and I know you have information about them.”
A smirk lifted his chapped lips. “I don’t remember you having so much spunk.”
Kaylin stepped forward so only inches separated them. “I am going to save my little brother. That’s not ‘spunk,’ that’s a fact. So either you are going to tell me how I can find the Resistance, or I’m going to beat that info straight out of you.”
His smirk faded, replaced by a look of surprised respect. “No need for violence, girl. Save that for the invaders. If you want to find the Resistance, they’re down at the Union Pier. Their boats leave twice a day, noon and midnight.”
“What’s their price?”
“Nothing, unless you feel like donating. They’re out to save lives, not to make a buck.” Ian glanced down at his watch. “It’s only eight. That gives you plenty of time to pack up today and catch the midnight boat this evening.”
Kaylin shook her head. “I need to make it there by noon.”
“No, wait for the midnight boat. The riots are getting bad out there, but they’ll settle a bit when it gets dark.”
Kaylin cursed. She’d nearly forgotten about the riots. In the days before the invasion, citizens had started to panic and form mindlessly angry mobs that crowded the streets. She remembered being so scared of them back before the invasion, so worried that the riots might spread to her street.
She’d been such a fool back then. More worried about panicked humans than murderous invaders.
“The invasion starts in just a couple hours,” Kaylin said. “I’m going to have to leave now. We can’t wait.”
“What makes you so sure?” Ian asked. “All the intelligence reports say they’re not going to hit Cleveland for another two days or so.”
“Like I said, I saw it happen. The invasion began right at eleven in the morning.”
“Right,” Ian said, his tone drenched in skepticism. “And you know this because you came back from the future.”
Kaylin jabbed a finger upward. “Just a few years ago, everyone thought aliens only existed in movies. Now we’ve got them hovering right above our heads. Do you really want to tell me it’s impossible that they brought time-travel technology along with them?”
Ian frowned, rubbing at his chin as he considered what she had said. Finally, he just shook his head and muttered, “The whole damn world’s gone mad.”
Kayin shrugged and gestured toward him flippantly. “At least you’re not alone anymore.”
Ian’s eyes narrowed. But when Kaylin met his stark gaze, he just barked a harsh laugh. “All right, girlie. Let’s say you really are from the future. What exactly happened there that makes you so sure you need to get your brother out of here?”
“The freeway intersection just east of here is going to be incinerated by a bomb in about three hours. The explosion takes down every building within half a mile, including this one.”
Ian raised his eyebrows and glanced over to his stockpile of supplies in the corner. “Can’t say I’d planned for that.”
“You can now. Come with us.”
“I’ve lived in this city my entire life. I’m not just going to let some alien bastards chase me out of my own home.”
“Cleveland is doomed, but the rest of the world isn’t. Join the Resistance. Help us fight.”
Ian slowly shook his head. “I’ve already done far too much fighting in my life. I’ll defend myself if given the chance, but I’ll be damned if I ever run onto another battlefield.”
“You’ll die if you stay here.”
Ian shrugged. “We’re all going to die someday. I don’t see why this day is any worse than another to bite the dust.”
She bit back a frustrated curse. “I don’t have time to argue with you.”
“Good. I don’t want you to.”
His haunted eyes narrowed on her, and Kaylin nodded once, realizing there was no changing his mind. “You’re saving my brother,” she said, softening her tone. “Whatever happens to you, I hope you know that I’ll always remember you as a hero. Jaxon is going to make it because you helped.”
“I hope to God you’re right,” Ian said, and a ghost of a smile touched his lips. “I wish you two the best of luck.”
Kaylin turned toward the door, but Ian called out, “Wait a second, girlie.”
She turned around, and Ian pulled a pistol from the holster at his waist, offering it to her, butt first. It was an older weapon, a SIG that fired old-fashioned lead bullets. But it was far better than nothing.
“You’re going to need more than luck out there,” Ian said.
Kaylin carefully took the weapon from him. “Thank you.”
Ian simply nodded and unclasped the ammunition belt from his waist, handing it over to her. As Kaylin tightened it around her own waist, she wanted to say more, to explain to the old man just exactly how much it meant to have someone offer their help. But she’d locked away her emotions for years, and after stoically ignoring them for so long, she just couldn’t figure out any way to communicate the confusing mess of feelings inside her. So she took a deep breath, trying to clear her head.
“I have just one more favor to ask,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow.
She pointed toward his kitchen. “Do you have any milk?”
AS SOON AS Kaylin got back to her apartment, she poured a bowl of cereal for Jaxon and flicked on the TV, letting him eat in front of it. It worked magic just like it always did, and Jaxon zoned out like a peaceful little zombie as he munched on his breakfast. Kaylin desperately wanted to curl up on the couch next to him and just hold him for a few minutes, but she resisted the urge. Instead, she started packing two backpacks full of survival gear.
She stuffed them full of food, water, blankets, matches, flashlights, batteries, and anything else helpful she could find in the apartment. She also clipped the ammunition belt back onto her waist and tucked the SIG into the holster. She’d been hesitant to let Jaxon see the gun, but there was no avoiding it any longer.
He padded into the kitchen, placing his empty bowl in the sink, and then froze when he spotted the gun. His eyes widened, and he pointed a hesitant finger at it.
“Where did you get that?” he whispered.
“From Ian.”
Jaxon frowned. “Why’d he give it to you?”
Kaylin walked over to him, leaning over so they were eye-to-eye. “Because he wanted to help me,” she said, keeping her voice as calm and confident as she could. “He told me about a safe place we need to go so we don’t get hurt. But we have to leave right now, Jax.”
He shook his head. “You said it’s dangerous out there. That going farther than the store and back isn’t safe.”
“This will help make it safe,” Kaylin said, patting the pistol. “But I’m going to need you to stay right by my side and do exactly what I tell you to.”
Jaxon swallowed hard and glanced out the window. “Do we have to go?” he whispered.
“Yeah, Jax. It’s too dangerous to stay here anymore. But I promise you I’m going to keep you safe. We just have to get down to the Union Pier and take a boat.”
Jaxon bit his lip nervously. “Where are we going?”
“Canada. Ian has friends who are going to take us to a safe place tucked far away from the city.”
Jaxon clenched his jaw and took a shaky breath, but it wasn’t enough to ward off the tears creeping into his wide eyes. “But you said we wouldn’t have to leave. You said no matter what happened, we’d still have our home.”
Kaylin swept him into a hug, holding him close. “As long as we have each other, it doesn’t matter where we are. We’ll have a home. And I promise you, I’m not going to abandon you.”
Jaxon sniffled and hugged her tightly. He clung to her for a long moment, and then he let out a deep breath. As he pulled away, his face was once again comp
osed into the world-weary expression of someone many times his age.
“Are we leaving now?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m afraid so.” Kaylin nodded towards the backpacks. “We need to go now.”
She helped him put on the smaller backpack and took the larger one herself, grunting slightly from the weight. With the chaos going on outside, there was a chance they wouldn’t catch the boat. But even if that happened, they had plenty of supplies to escape the city on foot and last for weeks on their own.
She ushered them out of the apartment without ceremony and started toward the back stairwell that led directly out to the street. They’d almost reached it when a gruff voice called out, “Wait.”
She turned to find Ian striding toward them, a tactical backpack slung over his shoulder and a shotgun in his hands.
“I’m coming with you,” he said.
Kaylin nodded and gestured for him to follow. “Glad to hear it.”
Jaxon didn’t look nearly as happy, and he reached up to take Kaylin’s hand as Ian approached. She squeezed it comfortingly as she said, “Ian is going to help us get to the Union Pier safely.”
Jaxon peered up at Ian hesitantly, and the old veteran tried to smile back, although it looked more like a grimace. Kaylin tugged at her brother’s hand, encouraging him to keep moving toward the stairs.
“What made you change your mind?” she asked Ian.
“That,” he said, pointing out a window as they passed. “Made me realize you’re not as crazy as I thought. And ends up I’m not quite as ready for death as I’d like to think.”
Kaylin glanced outside and saw a Syndicate ship hovering just below the cloud cover. The familiar burn of rage struck her, along with confusion. She didn’t remember the ships arriving so early. She’d thought they appeared just minutes before the invasion started.
Jaxon let out a low whimper of fear at the sight of the ship, and Kaylin squeezed his hand tightly.
“Come on,” she said, hurrying faster down the stairs. “We still have over two hours before they strike.”