The Apocalypse

by Jack Parker

  "Want me to walk you home?"

  Hannah laughed and looked back at Jake. "Fine, I take it back. You don't have gross manners." Jake grinned, and she stuck her tongue out at him while she picked up her dress. "But don't bother. I'm perfectly capable of crossing the street by myself."

  Although Jake thought of asking Hannah if she had her house key—and he doubted that she did—he decided not to. It would be much more amusing if she had to walk back and ask to use his than if he just offered it up. So Jake stood up and walked Hannah to the door. "Be good."

  Stepping outside into the frigid air, Hannah peeked over her shoulder and smiled. "Goodnight, Jake."

  Chapter 9

  NyQuil Noel

  Quietly, Hannah slipped in through her front door, careful to close and lock it back silently. Once inside, she leaned back against the door, holding her breath, and counted to five slowly. There was no sound or movement, so Hannah assumed that she'd made it in without waking anyone. Without hesitation, Hannah moved toward the staircase and took caution in skipping the fourth step from the bottom, since she'd learned that it tended to creak under her weight.

  She tiptoed through the upstairs hallway, smiling in relief that no one seemed to stir in her house. Quietly, Hannah opened her bedroom door, slipped in, and shut it behind her, flipping on her overhead light.

  "It's about time you got here."

  Hannah jumped and spun around, only to see Isaac lounging on her bed in Superman pajama pants and an 'Aviators' t-shirt from their high school. Seeing him lying there so nonchalantly prompted Hannah to glare at him, unable to believe that he had such a lack of respect for her privacy that he'd be in her bedroom without her permission—in her bed no less!

  "You look rough," Isaac bluntly informed her, sitting up on the bed and studying Hannah critically. She fidgeted a little and draped her dress over her desk chair to hide it. "Oh my God."

  Hannah glanced at Isaac quickly, only to see his face paling. "What?"

  "Please tell me that you haven't been having wild sex with Jake."

  "What?"

  Blatantly relieved, Isaac slumped against the headboard of his sister's bed. "What else am I supposed to think? You show up in his clothes, looking like you've sweated all of your makeup—hey. If your makeup's not on because you've been doing exhilarating activity…" Isaac studied Hannah more, and she raised her eyebrows at him. "You've been crying, huh?"

  Hannah shrugged and placed her hands on her hips. "Are you always this nosy?"

  "Usually." Isaac patted the area on the bed next to him, encouraging Hannah to sit beside him for a heart-to-heart. She instead opted to sit on the end of the bed and glare at him more. "So. Was the dance that bad?"

  Sighing deeply, Hannah understood that Isaac wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon, so she might as well talk to him. "It was okay, I guess. Everybody survived, as far as I know. It wasn't nearly as bad as you swore it would be."

  Isaac seemed to almost smirk but must have changed his mind. "Then why were you crying? Or did you not cry but just stop by Jake's house to get ready for bed?" Hannah stared at him quizzically, and Isaac rolled his eyes. "I saw his headlights, okay? You were over at his house forever."

  "You were…staring out the window?" Totally astonished, Hannah's mouth gaped open as she tried to understand why Isaac would be peeping around, waiting for her to return. "It's pretty late, Isaac. Why wouldn't you go to bed like a normal person or read like you usually do?"

  The subtle hint at abnormality didn't seem to faze Isaac, but something did hit a nerve. "Forgive me if I don't rest very well when my sister's out at night," he frowned, crossing his arms. "The last time she was out, she ended up in the hospital, and I wasn't sure if I'd ever get to see her again."

  Hannah winced. "I'm sorry," she replied softly, guiltily. "Thanks for caring." She nibbled on her lower lip tentatively and glanced at her younger brother. "Really. That means a lot to me."

  "Mm." Isaac smoothed the blankets on Hannah's bed, seemingly recovering from his little emotional outpour. "So what happened to make you cry?"

  The scene raged through Hannah's mind—lights flashing by her, a loud screeching, spinning in the light, sudden darkness and stillness… It became more detailed every time the images spun through her mind, whether they were real memories or not. The thoughts made Hannah's stomach quiver, and she didn't want to tell Isaac about it. Jake was the only one she trusted with that information. Even though she knew that Isaac cared about her as much as Jake did, Hannah couldn't confide in him. Isaac was more prone to worry and panic, but laidback Jake had simply helped Hannah brush the nightmarish commotion off. If she told Isaac about her fears, he might tell their mom, and then she'd have more people's panic to deal with, and she couldn't stand that. Hannah didn't want the pity that would come with it.

  "Han?"

  Hannah jumped to attention and gave Isaac a weary smile. "I started feeling sick at Formal," she explained, careful to keep most of the story truthful, just in case there were rumors and whispers that could get back to Isaac. "Ethan told Jake to take me home, but I didn't want to worry Mom, so we went to Jake's house."

  "And had wild sex? Because you still haven't explained why you're wearing no makeup." Isaac shook his head. "Or why you're in his clothes."

  "Speaking of clothes…" Hannah made a face and motioned to her outfit of sweatpants and a restaurant t-shirt and to Isaac's odd pajamas. "Do you and Jake really lack the brain capacity to match clothes?"

  Isaac half laughed. "It's more comfortable that way. But stop avoiding the question before I'm convinced you're covering up a dirty sex life."

  "Will you stop saying that?" Hannah made a face. "For such a genius kid, you're not…something." Her lost train of thought made Isaac grin. "Whatever. Did it ever occur to you that feeling sick may involve, I don't know, cold sweats and vomit? Or having hot flashes and rinsing your face?"

  "So which was it?"

  "Both."

  Isaac rolled his eyes. "Sucks to be you," he commented lightly, stretching his arms above his head. He glanced at the clock beside Hannah's bed. "Want to watch a movie with me? Maybe we'll get lucky and Rudolph or Frosty will be on."

  "Uh, I'll pass." Hannah slapped at Isaac's leg. "Move. I'm going to bed."

  "What? It's Christmas break!" Isaac's expression was incredulous. "Why are you going to bed so early when you can sleep all day tomorrow?"

  "Move!"

  Although he took his time about doing it, Isaac stood up and stretched some more. "Oh, while you were gone, Grandma called." Hannah looked at Isaac blankly. "She was freaking out about travel plans and delays and stuff, but I think the gist of what she was saying was that she'll be here with Kevin and everybody on Christmas Eve. I guess they think less people will drive that day, even though that's statistically incorrect because, according to last year's records, the—"

  "Go do something. Please?" Hannah yawned, pointing toward her door. Isaac grinned suddenly and shook his head at something only he understood, though he moved toward the door as she asked. "Thank you!"

  . . .

  Over the course of the next few days, Hannah lounged around at home, trying to help her mom out when she could with Christmas preparations. Though Patricia promised that things always got chaotic in the days before Christmas, Hannah personally believed that her condition had made her mom delay some traditions. For example, the Christmas tree wasn't decorated until three days before Christmas, and Hannah overheard Patricia complaining to Diane about having a difficult time finding a large enough turkey for Christmas dinner. If Hannah had to guess, she'd say that her accident had gotten Patricia's mind off the holidays, but miraculously, it was beginning to look like Christmas in the Ayers's house, and it sounded like it too, with Christmas carols playing rather constantly and Josh Groban's voice sending shivers down Hannah's spine.

  "Hallelujah!"

  The sudden burst of praise caught Hannah off guard as she tried to sneak into the kitchen to steal yet
another handful of Christmas cookies, even though she knew they were supposed to be saved for when company arrived the next day. The noise from the living room caught her interest, however, so Hannah told her rumbling stomach to suck it up and went to investigate the apparent good news.

  "Oh, hush, Isaac, it's not that great," Patricia was saying when Hannah walked in the door, although there was a smile on her face. "In fact, it's—"

  "Hannah, guess what!" Isaac was positively beaming. "Diane's brother's not flying in from Texas! Do you know what that means?" Hannah shook her head, confused. "That means his bratty kids aren't going to be here! I hate them!"

  In the past few days, Hannah had been briefed on the happenings of a typical Christmas at her house. Her mom's younger brother, Kevin, would drive to Vandalia from Sandusky, Ohio, which was a few hours away, and he'd bring their widowed mother, Shirley, who had moved to Sandusky to help Kevin's wife, Charlotte, take care of their children. Then, since they'd all been family friends since Patricia and Diane's elementary school years, Diane's parents would drive back from Indiana, where they'd retired to after their son had moved to Texas.

  The story of the Allen family had particularly interested Hannah. Diane's older brother was a professor at Baylor University, and everyone knew that he'd moved away to escape from his overbearing parents, even if Jonah and Elisabeth Allen denied it passionately. Instead, they'd praised the 'good child' for being 'so successful in his endeavors' when he'd gotten the job years ago, and two months later, they'd relocated to Indiana, partially to escape from their 'wild child.' When Diane had gotten pregnant with Jake, her parents had been furious because she and Jake's dad refused to marry; in fact, they nearly disowned her, but plenty of reasoning from Patricia's parents had calmed them. Slightly. Still, the uptight couple brought gloom to even the happiest holiday.

  "Isaac, be nice," Patricia scolded gently as she continued hanging stockings by the fireplace. "They're nice kids."

  Isaac scoffed. "If 'nice' is the nicest description you can come up with, you know you're lying. They're demonic." He picked up a magazine from the coffee table and started flipping through the pages, even though it didn't seem like he was focusing on it at all. Suddenly, Isaac groaned. "Aw man, Mom. I don't have to share my bed with Kyle again this year, do I? He kicks!"

  Laughing softly, Patricia smiled. "Kyle or Kaleb. You pick."

  Isaac groaned again, and Hannah laughed. "Isn't Kaleb, like, two?" she asked, plopping onto the opposite side of the couch that Isaac occupied. Her uncle Kevin had two sons and a daughter; that much Hannah remembered, but the details crammed together in her mind.

  "Yes," Isaac scowled. He sighed deeply and tossed the magazine back onto the coffee table. "I'll take Kyle. Maybe I can perfect my amputation skills this Christmas. I would have last year if he hadn't kicked the knife out of my hands."

  Hannah grinned. "You're such a liar."

  "So you think."

  "Isaac, don't forget to clean your room up." Patricia stepped back and admired the neat row of stockings. Then she turned and started for the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, "And, Hannah, make sure you take your shoes to your bedroom."

  Hannah glanced toward the door, where two pairs of her shoes were messily scattered. She made a face, thinking it was a whole lot easier to leave her shoes where she'd need them, but she made a mental note to do as she was told. At least she didn't have an entire room to clean like Isaac did.

  "I say you leave your shoes there," Isaac declared, jumping up from the couch and making a move for the Christmas tree. He reached around sneakily, clearly trying to feel up his presents. "Maybe one of Jake's grandparents will trip over them. If they spent Christmas at the hospital, my days would be merry and bright."

  Laughing, Hannah rolled her eyes and watched Isaac dig around in the presents by the tree. In less than twelve hours, her house would be crammed with new strangers, and Hannah was hopeful that being around people of her past would help her remember that past. Though she wasn't too sure she wanted to reconnect with her memories, Hannah was convinced that Jake was right: it was for the best. So she was hopeful, if not also anxious, about the holidays.

  "What happened to the Christmas cookies?" Patricia's voice cried from the kitchen suddenly. "There're almost all gone!"

  Hannah jerked her head to Isaac, ready to shoot him an accusing glance, but when she looked him, he was already giving her one. She almost laughed as she called back, "I didn't eat them, if that's what you're asking!"

  Mockingly, Isaac whispered, "You're such a liar."

  "I can't even deny that one," Hannah giggled as annoyed footsteps stomped toward the living room, no doubt belonging to Patricia. Hannah jumped up and moved toward her shoes, picking them up as quickly as she could, while Isaac jumped away from the Christmas tree and made a dash for the staircase. By the time that Patricia had made it to the living room, both children had escaped upstairs, safe from her yells about the missing cookies.

  . . .

  "Can you pass the deviled eggs?"

  "Eggs make me gag." Kristin Ayers shook her blonde head stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest. "If I smell an egg, I puke all over the place."

  Isaac scowled, resisting the urge to jerk the pigtails off his five-year-old cousin's head. "They're right in front of you," he said through gritted teeth. "If you can't smell them when they're that close to you, you won't smell them if you hand them to me."

  She gasped suddenly, clapped her hand over her mouth, and disappeared from the table, not missed by the adults who were absorbed in their talking. Hannah came close to smiling as she reached across the chair Kristin had been sitting in, plucked the deviled egg dish from the table, and passed it to a very grumpy Isaac. Both of them had unwillingly woken up early to greet their relatives, and the day had been torture for Isaac, while Hannah had found amusement in his annoyance with their cousins, though she'd had her own brushes with annoyances with other relatives, particularly Jake's.

  "I don't understand why it's so hard for that boy to be on time," Jonah Allen complained, sipping from his hot tea. He was in pretty good shape for an old man, and his white hair showed more age than his body did. "He was specifically told that dinner would be served at six-thirty, and it's nearly seven. Diane, he's exactly like you were at his age. I'm glad you know how it feels now."

  His wife, Elizabeth, nodded curtly, her short, tight perm not moving at all, thanks to all the hairspray that had gone into the style. "It makes me thankful for karma. You have no idea how many nights I worried where you were."

  "I don't have any problems with Jake," Diane answered, her eyes narrowed. Hannah sent her a sympathetic smile, although she didn't think Diane saw it. "He's always on time. Whatever made him late must have been important."

  "Just like you," Elizabeth sniffed. "Never calling to say when he'll be late."

  "Would you care for some more tea?" Patricia interrupted politely, holding up a tea kettle helpfully. Hannah was glad her mother intervened, since hearing negative comments about Jake—especially from his own grandparents—made her want to scream. Since when were grandparents not sweet and loving?

  Coughing hard, Hannah's grandmother eclipsed any response from Jake's grandparents. "I'll take some of that, Pat," Shirley said, rubbing at her chest. "All of this cold weather has gone straight to my fragile lungs."

  "You'll be tipping the bottle later, won't you, Grandma?" Isaac asked, grinning. "Did you bring enough brandy for me to get drunk too?"

  Shirley scowled and pulled her cup away so that Patricia couldn't refill her tea after all. "I'll have you know that my brandy is for medicinal purposes only, and when I'm coughing like I am, I need my brandy to soothe my—"

  Isaac, seven year old Kyle, and Diane cut off Shirley's lecture with loud fake coughing. Hannah, who had heard about her grandmother's close relationship with peach brandy, cracked up, just as Jake walked in the door. Apparently, the coughing was an inside joke, since Jake immediately started coughing alo
ng with the others, which only made Hannah laugh harder.

  "I think I've caught your cough," Jake declared, taking his seat beside Isaac. Hannah had to admire him, with his windblown brown hair and slightly reddened cheeks, which were probably due to the cold. He looked great. "Mind if I borrow a swig or two of your home remedy?"

  Shirley made a face. "You can all stop coughing now!" She reached beside her chair and produced a very large purse; it could only be described as the size of a bag one might take to the beach—only bigger. Without embarrassment, Shirley reached in and pulled out a bottle of peach brandy. "You'll be glad that I brought this when you're all sleeping peacefully tonight. If I didn't have this to drink, I'd cough all night long."

  "How am I going to sleep peacefully with Kyle kicking me all night?" Isaac asked moodily, watching his grandma pour the brandy into a glass. Then he grinned. "Wait, I know! Pour me some of that brandy, and I'll sleep fine."