by A. G. Riddle
I peek around the door frame and spot Oscar sitting in a club chair, facing the screen, Allie in his lap, still and quiet, focused completely on the show. My heart breaks. Even as I battled the nausea and the wild car ride to get here, my mind kept flashing to Allie, wondering if she was safe.
As I approach, she turns and sees me, then hops off Oscar’s lap and runs to me. I hug her and lift her up, and it’s the best feeling in the world.
“Da?”
She hasn’t quite mastered the word “Dad” yet, but it’s clear to me that she senses that something is wrong.
“He’s on his way, sweetie.”
“Home...”
“We’ll go home. Soon.”
I bring her back over to the club chair, where Oscar rises to let me sit.
“How long, Oscar?”
“Ma’am?”
“Until impact.”
“Current estimate is thirty-one minutes, twenty-three seconds.”
A lump forms in my throat. Allie seems to read my reaction. She takes my hand, wrapping her small fingers around two of mine. “Mom…”
“Just watch your show, Allie, please. Oscar, I need you to do something.”
“Anything.”
“Go up to the surface and find James and tell him that his daughter and his wife are down here and they need him and so does everyone else.”
Chapter 7
James
At first, the residents of Camp Seven arrive in waves. One or two cars at a time, carrying people like me who somehow got an early warning. Emma and I probably got the earliest warning of all—thanks to Oscar. He’s wirelessly connected to the AtlanticNet defense network. He knew as soon as the asteroids were spotted. I’m thankful for that.
I know a few of the new arrivals: NASA staffers who saw the alert from the orbital defense satellites and civilians who were working the night shift at CENTCOM.
The troop carriers arrive next, disgorging AU soldiers into the warehouse, clad in full battle gear, helmets with lights, body armor, and rifles loaded and ready.
Colonel Earls is still in charge, and I hope he has the answer I need.
“Colonel, do you know the time to impact?”
He gives a sharp nod to the two aides standing near him and they march away, soon giving orders to the throngs of recently arrived troops.
Voice low, Earls says, “About thirty minutes.”
I have time. Just enough time to reach Alex.
“Thank you, Colonel,” I call back to him as I race to the car.
The moment it starts, the door flies open and a hand grips my shoulder.
I look up to find Oscar leaning into the car. “Sir.”
“Not now—”
“Sir, Emma has instructed me to give you a message: that your daughter and wife are down in the Citadel and that they need you and so does everyone else.”
I stare at him, my hands still on the wheel. Finally, I slump back into the seat and shake my head. She’s right. But it’s an impossible decision. Be a father and husband or save my brother. There’s only one choice.
I leave the car running, but step out.
“Oscar, I need you to go and get Alex and Abby and their kids. Hurry. We only have—”
“Twenty-nine minutes, sir.”
“Thank you. Go. Now.”
The electric car throws up a trail of dust as it blazes into the night. When it’s out of sight, I draw my phone and try Alex and Abby again.
Voicemail.
I trudge back to the warehouse.
“Name!” a female soldier shouts at me. Her tone softens when I look up. “Oh. Sorry, sir. Please come forward.”
The waves of cars stop for a few minutes, then it’s a flood—a continuous stream of vehicles arriving, dust clouds behind them, parents carrying crying children into the warehouse, shouting, chaos.
The troops separate the horde into six groups that are spaced throughout the warehouse. The story is that the bunker is being prepared and that they will be brought down as soon as possible—and that anyone being disruptive will lose their place. It’s a lie. There are already more people in this warehouse than the bunker can hold.
With each passing minute, it gets hotter in this massive space, the heat of bodies and fear coalescing and pressing into all of us. How many will we leave to die up here? And what’s the alternative? Tell them the truth? It would be chaos, and in that chaos maybe none of us would get down to the safety of the Citadel.
Fowler and his family arrive, looking haggard and worried. He pauses to talk to me as his wife and children hurry to the elevator.
“What are you doing up here?”
“Waiting on Alex.”
He checks his watch. “Don’t wait too long. Twenty-one minutes.”
“Yeah. I heard. Any idea where they’ll touch down?”
The expression on Fowler’s face confirms my worst fear: Camp Seven will take a direct hit.
“Where else?” I ask.
“Caspiagrad. The Pac Alliance CENTCOM. And New Berlin, London, and Atlanta.”
I don’t know whether the settlements have bunkers. I doubt it. Their focus has been on rebuilding above ground. The carnage will be unimaginable.
“Don’t wait too long,” Fowler says over his shoulder as he continues to the elevator.
Members of my team arrive shortly after: Grigory first, then Min and Izumi, Charlotte, and finally Harry, his mood somber and resigned. Even during the darkest periods on the Pax, he remained optimistic. He just looks defeated as he places a hand on my shoulder and walks to the elevator.
I haven’t stopped calling Alex. And he hasn’t answered.
Twelve minutes left.
After going down to the Citadel, Grigory returns to the surface and comes to stand beside me, staring out at the groups of people waiting. Some of the kids are lying down, trying to sleep. Most of the adults are clustered together, whispering as they cut glances to the troops and the doorway into the elevator room.
“Who are you waiting on?” Grigory asks.
“Alex. You?”
“Lina. When we got the news, she went to the office.”
“What?”
He shakes his head. “She has a new program for the Centurion drones. Thinks it will help.”
“She’ll get out in time.”
We both stare at the cars arriving, hoping when every door opens that we’ll see our loved ones.
Madison and David and their two children arrive and run toward the elevator. The guards ID them and escort them to the elevator, drawing scowls and looks of confusion from the people seated in groups around the warehouse, waiting their turn.
Madison hugs me. “Thank you for calling.”
“Of course.”
“Emma?”
“She’s down below with Allie.”
I glance at my phone when they’re gone.
Seven minutes.
Someone in a group nearby shouts, “There’s not enough room. They’re going to leave us up here.”
More voices join in, asking questions and screaming, the words drowned out in the cacophony. The groups are all standing now, kids too. They edge forward, the leaders pointing at the soldiers, who train their rifles on them.
The wall of people closes on us, and suddenly, it breaks. People burst forth, making a run for the elevator. Directly toward Grigory and me.
Chapter 8
Emma
My heart leaps every time the door opens. It quickly becomes apparent who was on the list: NASA staffers and military personnel. The people we need to fight the grid. And their families—what good are fighters if they don’t have anything to fight for?
The soldiers here in the Citadel busy themselves by taking everything out of the cabinets and moving it to storage. Anything glass is either removed or taped to prevent breaking. They think we’re going to get hit directly. Can this bunker survive that?
Every time the door opens, I expect to see James, or Madison, or Alex and Abby. But
all I see are strangers or people I recognize vaguely from NASA.
Fowler’s wife Marianne is the first person I know. She sends her kids to one of the tables in the mess hall and comes over to hug me.
“Where’s Lawrence?”
“Upstairs talking to James.”
“James is still here? In the warehouse?”
She looks confused, as if thinking, Where else would he be?
“Yes, he’s standing near the elevator.”
I can’t help but grin. Oscar did his job.
James’s team arrives next, everyone but Lina. Grigory is pacing, agitated. I know exactly how he feels. He doesn’t wait long down here. He leaves and, for a moment, I think about doing the same thing. But I can’t leave Allie alone. She can’t lose both of her parents.
So I wait. And when the doors open and Madison comes through, I run to her and hug her with every ounce of strength I have and I hug my nephew, Owen, and niece, Adeline, with everything I have left. Madison’s husband, David, brings up the rear, joining in the hug.
Now that Madison is here, maybe I should go. I can convince James to come down here. If something goes wrong, Madison can take care of Allie.
I’m walking toward the doors when the floor begins shaking. The chairs in the mess hall rattle. The screens go out. The lights dim. It feels like an earthquake, but I know exactly what this is: an asteroid has made landfall.
Chapter 9
James
When the first shots go off, the crowd freezes. Silence descends. All eyes focus on the AU Army troops fanned out around the outer doors of the elevator room.
Colonel Earls’s voice rings out in the warehouse. “All civilians back to your stations, right now.”
Slowly, the hordes back away like a wave receding from the shore, certain to return.
I lean over and whisper, “You should get out of here, Grigory.”
“So should you,” he mumbles.
I just shake my head as I watch a new group of cars arrive, parking beyond the rows of abandoned vehicles. I squint, trying to make out the passengers emerging in the night.
I think but am not sure… Yes! Oscar is leading the way; behind him is Alex. Following is his wife, Abby, and their kids, Jack and Sarah. They’re going to make it. I check the countdown on my phone.
Five minutes left.
Just barely, but they’re going to make it.
The colonel’s voice once again booms into the night. “All right, now we’re going to be coming around, escorting you all to the elevators. If you disobey my people—or if you leave your group—you lose your place. Permanently.”
Seconds pass quietly, everyone in the warehouse staring at the soldiers, hoping they’ll stop at their group and call them out. My stomach turns watching it. This is the grid’s form of torture: reducing our habitable world, then making us choose who will live.
The ground beneath my feet shakes. It’s an asteroid impact. My guess would be that it touched down in Europe. New Berlin maybe. The first asteroid has fallen. How long do we have before the one coming for us makes landfall? Seconds probably. The rumbling grows stronger, perhaps more asteroids touching down, the sound like thunder rolling through the night.
The concrete floor cracks. The steel rafters groan. Grit and dust fall like rain. And when the rumbling below our feet subsides, the crowd erupts again.
People surge forward, children in their arms, heads down, plowing into the soldiers. Shots go off from several guns.
It has to be now. We have to get to the elevator.
I can’t see Oscar anymore; he’s somewhere out there, swallowed in the crowd.
I shout but my voice is drowned out by the chaos.
My mind screams for me to turn and run to the elevator, but I could never live with myself. Almost absently, I feel myself running forward, toward the crowd, piercing the line of soldiers, who aren’t prepared for an assault from behind. I break through their hold, into the mass of shouting, crying people, their fists in the air, bodies sweaty.
I realize then that Grigory is beside me, helping me snake my way through. People are happy to let us pass, so long as we aren’t headed for the elevator. We take one step after another until I can see Oscar. He’s practically swimming through the masses. Jack and Sarah are on his back, arms draped around his neck like rag dolls.
When he’s five feet from me, I turn and begin working my way back toward the elevator, trying to open a hole for him. I catch an elbow in the cheek and my right eye waters; pain pulses as I feel blood rushing to the bruise that’s forming. I keep going, step after step, feeling my feet pressing into arms and legs and backpacks and all the things people left behind on the floor.
A fist punches me in the stomach and a man yells, “Get back.”
I double over, and Grigory’s hands grip my arm and pull me forward, my head still down.
Oscar pulls ahead of us and barrels forward until we’re staring at the end of a rifle and a line of soldiers.
“We’re with NASA!” Grigory yells as he raises me up so they can see me.
The soldiers squint at my bruised face and wave us forward. As soon as they make an opening, people pounce, trying to get through, trying to keep us back.
A melee ensues, Grigory, Alex, Abby, and I trying desperately to protect Jack and Sarah as we work our way through the line. It’s a blur of fists punching and hands pulling and grabbing at me. Oscar fights for us, his preternatural strength finally scaring away our attackers.
When we cross the line, the soldiers close the hole. I stare forward, at the open elevator doors. But the car is full—people crowded into every square inch, staring back at me, scared. A man in the corner punches the control panel, silently urging the doors to close.
We’re three seconds away. There isn’t room for all of us, but I bet we could fit the kids in. I take Jack and Sarah’s hands and pull them toward the elevator, but the doors close just as I reach it.
I release their hands and my niece and nephew run back to their parents.
Standing alone, panting, beaten and bruised all over, I take my phone out and check the time.
One minute left.
I turn and look out at the warehouse, at the saddest scene I’ve ever witnessed in my whole life. I feel the tears coming and it isn’t just from the guy who elbowed me in the face.
Alex pulls me into an embrace. “Thank you, brother.”
My voice cracks with emotion when I respond. “You’d have done the same for me.”
“Our phones were off. We would have never gotten here without you and Oscar.”
He glances down at a fissure in the floor. He’s thinking the same thing I am: will the elevator even still work? It’s too late to use the emergency tunnel. It’s probably collapsed. Are we already too late?
One by one, the soldiers escort people out of the crowd to join us. Kids mostly. There’s a six-year-old girl with red hair and freckles who’s crying and calling back to her parents, who are behind the line, telling her to stay there, that they’re coming soon. They know it’s the last time they’ll ever see their daughter. But she doesn’t. She keeps calling out for them.
A woman about Emma’s age joins the group and stoops down to talk to her, trying to calm her down. She works at NASA, but I can’t remember her name.
The elevator should have been back by now. But there’s nothing I can do about that now.
I put my arm around Alex and pull him close.
Chapter 10
Emma
Allie runs to me and wraps her arms around my legs and buries her face. Her voice is muffled by the sound of the bunker shaking.
I bend down and hold her. “It’s okay, sweetie. You’re safe. Everything’s going to be okay.”
I keep saying the words, hoping they’re true.
When the rumbling stops Allie says exactly what I’m thinking. “Da?”
“Dad’s coming.”
The words come out fast, sounding far more certain than I truly am
.
Holding her, I walk out to the foyer and watch the outer doors, hoping they’ll open and James will walk through.
Seconds seem like hours. Allie feels heavy in my tired arms, but I can’t stand to let her go right now. I lean against my good leg, both of our weight bearing on it.
The outer doors open and my heart practically bursts. A dozen people rush out. Kids mostly, but some military in uniform and NASA staffers I recognize.
But James isn’t there. Or Alex. Or Abby. Or Grigory.
An Atlantic Union Army colonel with a name patch that reads Earls is in the group. He instantly takes charge of the situation.
“Listen up. Projections show that an asteroid strike in our vicinity is imminent.”
The group behind me begins shouting questions, but Earls silences everyone.
“There’s no time to talk. You need to follow our instructions—right now.”
He nods to a captain, who begins directing the troops. The adults and older children are moved to the mess hall, where they crouch under the tables, hands covering their heads.
They usher Allie and me to the residential wing, to a small room with bunk beds on each side. We take the bottom bunk. Madison and Adeline lie across from us on the other bottom bunk. The lights are on, and I can see my sister’s frightened face. She’s shaking slightly, holding tight to her daughter. I hold Allie close and wonder where James is.
Allie can tell we’re scared, and it’s scaring her. She begins to sob, her words muffled, tears falling on my neck. I wish I could be brave for her, but it’s impossible here and now, knowing we might have seconds to live. I cradle her closer to me and shift to position my body over hers, a mama bear shielding a cub in her den.