Walking up to the front doors, I peeked through the ruffled white curtains behind the panels of glass. The front yard was dark. The nearest street lamp was on the other side of the street and scarcely enough to illuminate the outline of the oak tree and flower bushes at the entrance of our driveway.
I gave up and went into the living room. Taking a seat on the couch beside the fireplace, I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyeballs, trying to drive away my still-stabbing headache.
Just then, the phone rang. I stared at it for a second before reaching over the side of the couch and snatching it off the charging base.
I pressed the green answer button. “Hello?”
“Logan,” a deep male voice said.
I frowned. “Who is this?”
“It’s Richard.”
“Richard... Greenhouse?”
“Yeah.”
After a year of no contact, Katy’s brother was calling us out of the blue—I checked my watch. It was after nine at night, but it would be three hours earlier in California. “What’s up?” I prompted.
“You’ve seen the news?” Richard asked.
“Who hasn’t?” I asked.
“And the president’s address?” he pressed.
My brow furrowed. “Yeah. We were just watching it. Were you the one who discovered that star?”
“Yes. Logan, listen to me. I’m calling from a pay phone, but I think I’m being followed, so I might not have long.”
“Followed?” I echoed. “Have you been drinking again, Richard?”
“No, yes, but that’s not the point! I’m not delusional.”
I decided to humor him. “Okay...”
“Logan, you need to listen to me if you want your family to live. That star is going to mean the end of life as we know it.”
Not this again. “Look, Rick, we went through all of this last year. This is why you haven’t been allowed to visit again.”
“I haven’t asked to visit, have I?” Richard snapped. “But again—that’s not the point. This is what I was talking about last year. The government has been covering up the existence of this rogue star for the past ten years. I was part of that cover-up. They paid me and everyone else at IPAC off, bugged our homes, and threatened us if we ever spoke about what we knew.”
That surreal feeling was back. This didn’t seem as unlikely as aliens, but it still felt pretty far-fetched. “So you’ve known about this for ten years?”
“Yes, now listen—when this star reaches us in a year’s time, you don’t want to be anywhere close to the coast, and you definitely don’t want to be in the northern states. The star’s passing will cause massive tidal waves, but that’s nothing compared with what will follow. It’s going to disrupt our orbit and plunge us into an ice age. That means temperatures are going to drop, snow is going to pile up, and eventually New York and New Jersey will be buried under a mountain of ice.”
An amused smile tugged at my lips. There’s no way the government was hiding all of that.
Richard went on, “I have a place down in San Antonio. It’s all set up with enough supplies to last for a few years. It’s on Calaveras Lake.”
I absently scratched the side of my jaw, wondering what to say to that.
“Logan are you listening to me?” Richard asked.
“Yeah, I’m listening.”
“Just get down to San Antonio and I’ll explain everything, okay? The address is 13241 Stuart Road, Calaveras Lake. I’m going there myself, but that means I’ll be off the grid. There’s no cell reception down there and I don’t have a land line. It’s better that way. We all need to bug out and lie low. Now that the news about the rogue is out, the president won’t be able to keep this a secret any longer. More people are going to get access to the data, and then they’re going to develop their own simulations. It’s probably just a matter of weeks before everything goes to hell. If you thought the news about aliens coming was bad, just wait and see what happens when everyone finds out that they’re either going to freeze or starve to death.”
I shook my head quickly. “Rick, this is crazy. How do you expect me to believe you? The government wouldn’t hide something like this. They’d make preparations.”
A burst of static came through the phone as Richard sighed. “They have prepared, but quietly. You can’t prepare for something when the whole country is tearing itself apart, hoarding food, and crowding into fifteen degrees of latitude along our southern border. Look, just do me a favor and tell Kate about all of this. If she doesn’t buy it either, then you’ll have to wait to see the news break. When it does, get down to San Antonio as fast as you can, and remember where to find me—thirteen, two four one, Stuart Road, Calaveras Lake. You got that? Get a pen and write it down.”
“Sure.”
“I mean it, Logan.”
“I’m making a note in my phone right now,” I lied.
“Good. And Logan, whatever you do, don’t take a Taxi from the airport, and don’t tell anyone else where you’re going. If people find out about my safe house, it won’t be safe for long. Do you understand me?
I nodded slowly. “Perfectly.”
“Good. Give my love to the kids.”
The phone went dead, and a dial tone sang in my ear. I turned off the receiver and put it back on the base.
“Who was that?” Kate asked. I turned to see her standing in the threshold between the living room and the foyer, arms crossed defensively over her chest.
“Your brother,” I said.
“Richard?”
I nodded. She only had one brother, so that was a stupid question.
“What did he say?”
“A lot, but I’m not sure any of it’s true. Sit down.”
Kate sat at the far end of the L-shaped couch. I sat at the other end, beside the fireplace, and explained everything that Richard had told me.
“That doesn’t make sense,” Kate said, shaking her head. “Why would the president lie if the news is going to break in a few weeks, anyway?”
That was a good question. “She wouldn’t,” I decided. “He’s gone off his head again.”
We both nodded, and Kate gave a rueful smile before getting up and going back upstairs.
As she left, another explanation whispered through my thoughts: maybe the president had lied to buy time. A few weeks would be enough time to deploy the national guard and prepare for the chaos. It would also be enough time for the president and other high-ranking government officials to get to safety.
Still—an ice age? That didn’t sound very likely. I dismissed the thought with a sigh, withdrew the gun from my pocket, and placed it on the table beside the couch. It was like the president had said, this was just a remarkable discovery, nothing more.
* * *
—THREE WEEKS LATER—
June 1st
I sat in my office on the third floor of my home, alternately checking job listing websites and preparing a new budget in Excel.
There’d be no vacations, no fancy food from the supermarket, no more dinner parties, or big birthday celebrations, and no more private schools, but we would live, and our savings would last eight months. That should be enough time for me to get another job.
I reached for a pencil on my desk and began chewing the end of it absently. A knock sounded on the door, and I looked up from my computer screen just as Kate popped her head in.
“Lunch is ready. Do you want to come down and eat with me?”
“Give me ten minutes.”
“Okay,” Kate said, and shut the door quietly.
I listened to the sound of her footsteps receding as she went back downstairs. We’d been sleeping apart ever since I’d spent that crazy night on the couch guarding the front door with my revolver. The third floor had become my sanctuary. The guest bedroom with the en-suite next to my office was mine. Rachel was oblivious to our change in sleeping habits, but Alex understood perfectly: his parents were on the fast track to divorce.
I leane
d back in my chair and steepled my hands in front of my lips. Is that what I wanted? A divorce?
But it was too soon to say, and I had too many other problems right now to be thinking about adding a new one. My stomach growled, and I got up with a sigh. By the time I reached the first floor, I heard the TV droning in the sun room.
“Kate?” Maybe she’d decided to start eating without me. I walked through the living room to the sun room. The door was open. Kate stood frozen in front of the TV, her food cooling on a tray beside the couch. Her blue eyes were wide with horror, and she’d clapped a hand over her mouth as if to stifle a gasp. Not tearing her eyes away from the screen, she slowly shook her head.
I glanced at the screen and read the news ticker just as I had done at the Ramada three weeks ago.
BREAKING NEWS
ARRIVAL OF GREENHOUSE’S STAR PREDICTED TO CAUSE EXTENSIVE COASTAL FLOODING AND A NEW ICE AGE ON EARTH
The news anchor was sharing the screen with a scientist, who was going into specifics.
“Global average temperatures will drop by almost twenty degrees within a year. When this winter comes and the snow starts to fall, it’s never going to melt. The only habitable places left in the USA will be in Southern Florida and Southern Texas.”
I looked back to Kate and she looked at me. “Richard was right,” was all I could say. I couldn’t believe it.
“The kids,” Kate said. “You need to go pick them up from school right now, before everyone starts going crazy again.”
My eyes flared as I remembered what had happened the last time news like this broke. I nodded quickly and ran for the door.
Kate ran after me. “I’m coming with you.”
I was about to object, but the thought of leaving her here alone with people trying to break in and loot our house made me want to keep her close. Richard was right. This was going to be a lot worse than the last time.
Chapter 6
I roared down the driveway in my Mercedes 300C with Kate still rushing to put her seatbelt on. The tires squealed and the car jumped over a bump at the end of the driveway. Red brick houses and the summer green leaves of old trees blurred together on both sides of the street.
“This can’t be real,” Kate said.
I shook my head, speechless.
Kate raged on. “Richard knew about this for ten years and he never said anything? We have children!”
“I think he tried,” I said. “Remember last year?” And that wasn’t the first time he’d come to us preaching about the end of the world.
“But he didn’t explain! He just ranted and raved like a lunatic!”
I nodded my agreement and turned left onto Hamilton Road. “He did explain three weeks ago. The problem is he spent so many years crying wolf that this time we didn’t believe him.”
“What are we going to do?”
I hit the flashing yellow light at the four-way-stop on Centre Street. There was a black SUV already cruising through the intersection. I slowed down just enough to glide smoothly in behind the SUV as I turned left down Centre Street. What are we going to do? I wondered.
“We can’t sell the house now,” I decided.
“Why not?” Kate demanded.
“Because everyone is going to be selling and no one is going to be buying, unless you’ve got property down south. You heard what that guy on the TV said. Southern Florida and Southern Texas are going to be the only places left in the USA that will be warm enough to live.”
“But we have all of our money tied up in the house!” Kate thundered. “We can’t move to Florida with forty-five thousand dollars.”
The same concern was playing on repeat in my head. We hit the intersection on South Orange Ave. The light was red. I pulled into the turn lane beside the black SUV. There was a woman in the front seat, her hands clutching the steering wheel. I spied a car seat behind her. Leaning over the steering wheel, I looked for a break in traffic that would allow me to turn right. There were no breaks in sight. Giving up, I turned to Kate to address her concerns. “Your brother mentioned a place he bought down in San Antonio. He said we could join him there.”
Kate looked at me, her eyes wide. “That’s right! He knew, so he had time to prepare! Where in San Antonio? Do you have the address? Give me your cell phone; I’ll call him.”
“I left it at home. It doesn’t matter, anyway. He said he doesn’t have service down there, and there’s no land line.”
“Great! So how are we going to find him?”
The light turned green and the SUV ahead of me floored it, heading straight down Centre Street. I was just about to follow, but a silver sedan went screaming through the intersection on the other side, running the red light. Tires squealed and the cars hit with a thunderous bang and crunch of metal. Glass exploded in a glittering wave as the two vehicles danced around each other, their tires still squealing. Both cars skidded to a stop, leaving them badly crumpled, smoking, and slumping.
Kate blasphemed and gasped.
I remembered the car seat in the back of the SUV. “Shit!” Opening my door, I ran on shaking legs to check on the passengers of the two cars.
“Logan!” Kate called after me.
Broken glass glittered in the sun, crunching under my feet as I darted through the intersection. The silver sedan had hit the SUV side-on, and at high speed. Neither vehicle looked to be in good shape, and no one had tried to get out of their vehicles yet.
When I reached the SUV I saw that the driver’s side window was missing, and the driver was slumped against her airbag, her face buried in it. Blood streamed from a cut in the side of her head, but she wasn’t moving.
“Ma’am?” I tried shaking her shoulder. She didn’t stir. Then I glanced over her shoulder and saw the baby in the back. He was staring at me with wide blue eyes, and somehow not crying at all. He had to be about three years old. He was sitting in one of those upright, front-facing toddler seats rather than a baby seat. A side air bag had deployed beside him, pushing his seat away from the door. He looked fine, thank God. His mother was another story. The car had hit her door. “Hang on there, buddy,” I said. “I’m going to try to get you out.” I reached over his mother’s shoulder and pulled the rear door open from the inside. The door groaned on its hinges, but I managed to open it halfway. Reaching in, I began to unbuckle the kid. He started to cry and fight me with his hands.
“Hey, take it easy,” I said. “What’s your name?”
He just cried louder. “Mommy!” he said.
I grimaced and fought through his hands to pull him out of the vehicle. Cars were honking their horns now. A few of them came crawling through the intersection.
One driver leaned out of his window to get a better look. “Everything okay?” he asked as I carried a kicking and screaming three-year-old the two steps to the front of the car to check on his mother.
I grunted as the kid kicked me in the crotch, stealing the reply I’d been about to offer. The curious driver lost interest and wove around the crash.
I put the kid down, but held onto him by his wrist. With my free hand I shook his mother’s shoulder again. This time she stirred and cried out in pain as she raised her head and turned to look at me. She clapped a bloody hand to the side of her head and stared dumbly at me. “Wha...”
“You’ve been in an accident,” I explained. “I just got your son out, but he’s not too happy about it. Do you think you can get out on the other side?” There was no way her door was going to open.
The woman blinked at me and glanced at the passenger’s side door. “Maybe,” she croaked. “Let me see.”
She released her seatbelt and fought through the airbag to ease over into the passenger’s seat. From there she opened the door and climbed out. I yanked her son along to go meet her at the front bumper. He bit me, drawing a scream from my lips.
“Thank you,” the mother managed.
I nodded, rubbing the bite marks on my arm. A siren reached my ears. It sounded like a fire truck, not
an ambulance. “Sounds like help is on its way.”
She nodded and I helped stop traffic to escort them safely to the side of the road.
“Thank you,” the woman said again.
The three-year-old glared at me. I glared back. “No problem.” The kid’s mother didn’t seem to notice our exchange.
I ran back through the stream of honking traffic to check on the other driver, shocked that no one else had thought to do so by now. The whole front end of the car was smashed-in. The driver was pinned between his steering wheel and his seat. Either the airbag had failed to deploy, or his car didn’t have one. Horror stabbed through me at the sight of the man’s staring eyes and the blood trickling from the corner of his gaping mouth. “Sir?” I lightly shook his shoulder, and his head flopped rag-doll limp to his chest. I flinched and recoiled from the body. Turning around, I ran back through traffic to my car. The intersection was completely jammed, and everyone was sitting on their horns.
“Is everyone okay?” Kate asked, looking pale with fright.
“The kid and his mother seem fine, but the driver of the car that hit them is dead.”
Kate made a strangled sound. I shut my door and put the car into reverse. Twisting around to look behind us, I raced backward up Centre street and pulled into the nearest driveway to turn back the other way. We were going to have to go around the intersection.
* * *
By the time we got to Our Lady of Sorrows School, we’d seen a couple more accidents—just fender benders, thankfully. The whole city was crawling with cops, fire engines, and ambulances, their sirens screaming in shrill echoes that never fully died. But emergency services weren’t the only ones out in force on the streets. I’d seen the national guard or the military (maybe both?) driving around in Humvee convoys, blasting instructions to remain calm from megaphones on their roofs.
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