Kingdom Come

by Michelle Smith

  The six of us split up, and we navigated through what remained of what had been our home away from home. I choked up at the thought of home. Did I even have one anymore? We’d been so determined to help Dr. Fowler that I’d forgotten about my parents and sister. I needed to see them, to make sure they were okay. Because they were okay. They had to be. I couldn’t imagine a world in which they didn’t exist. The very thought was too painful to consider.

  I kicked over a panel of wood, wincing because it was heavier than I’d thought. The last thing I needed was a broken toe on top of all this. But when I saw the flash of red hair, I screamed and stumbled back, falling on my butt. I scrambled away and pushed to my feet, smacking into Ethan. He grabbed my shoulders to steady me.

  “I know,” he said, staring into my eyes. My chest heaved as I struggled for air, but looking at him helped. He took a step back. “It’s easier if you don’t move the wood. ‘Kay?”

  Still trembling, I nodded and continued scanning the area. “No more kicking the wood. Got it.”

  “Got these,” Nate called out.

  I looked over my shoulder. Nate re-emerged from the storage room with three lanterns in his hands. “Don’t know how long the batteries will hold out, but they’re better than nothing.” He shoved one at me, and I stumbled back a little, but was grateful for the extra light. He was right—it was better than nothing. We should have brought them up with us to begin with.

  “Thanks,” I offered. He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing before heading in Dr. Fowler’s direction. I took a deep breath and continued searching for anything I could salvage.

  Five minutes later, we all met again with our hands full. Between the six of us, we had as many bags, a mixture of purses and backpacks. I giggled at the sight of big, bad Nate holding a floral purse. We’d all found a coat or hoodie of some sort, for which I was eternally thankful when a gust of frigid wind blew across my face.

  Dr. Fowler took inventory of what we had, then had us divide it up amongst our bags. “Four bottles of water, three blankets, a few bags of crushed chips, seven cans of beans, three lanterns that are nearly dead already, and a flashlight,” he tallied.

  “At least they’re the pull-top beans,” Haven said. “They’ll be easy to open.” I gave her a weak half-smile when she glanced at me with a hopeful expression.

  “You said this could be a two-day trip?” Nate asked. “We’re fucked.”

  I shivered after another gust of wind. Three blankets? Nate was right. We were screwed. I crossed my arms tightly in front of my chest, but even with my new hoodie, it did little to ease the chill. The wind was picking up speed by the second. Beneath our coats, we wore clothes that were hardly suited for a hike in December.

  “We need to get moving,” Dr. Fowler said. “Every minute is precious. We’ll do well to remember that.” He met the eyes of each of us, his face deadly serious. “Stay together. Keep walking. You stray from the group, consider yourself no longer part of the group.”

  Though his words were harsh, I understood his reasoning. We didn’t have time to hunt each other down amongst whatever chaos awaited us. “I do have a question,” I said. All eyes turned to me, and, feeling uneasy being the sudden center of attention, I shifted from foot-to-foot to hide the discomfort. “Um, you do know where we’re going, right? I mean, it’s not like we have a GPS, or—”

  “A map?” Dr. Fowler gave me the closest thing I’d seen to a smile for hours. He then reached into the back pocket of his slacks and showed me a rumpled bundle of papers. “Small miracles, dear girl. They’re gifts from God in times like this.”

  “A god who’s allowing his world to be destroyed?” Nate asked. “He better give us a fucking yellow brick road to wherever it is we’re going.”

  “Dude, you need to chill,” Ethan said. Nate whipped his head around, but Ethan held his ground. If looks could kill, Nate would have been dead and buried. “Seriously. If you can’t help, just shut your damn mouth until you have something useful to say.”

  “Where’s everybody else?” Haven asked.

  Silence fell upon us, the unanswered question looming. The center had been bustling with dozens of people just over twelve hours ago. Ethan and I shared a knowing look.

  “Just . . . don’t move any rubble,” I said, not meeting Haven’s gaze. “Trust me.”

  “We’re leaving,” Dr. Fowler announced. I’d never been more thankful for a distraction. He took in the area surrounding us, then turned toward the road in front of the center. “Let’s move.”

  This was it. Even if I wanted to turn back, what was there to turn back to? A tiny storage room, which would keep me safe for how long? Another day? With my pulse thumping in my ears, I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. When I opened them, Danny was standing in front of me with an empathetic smile.

  “Come on,” he said, offering his hand. “Let’s do the damn thing, Pretty.”

  Returning his smile with one of my own, I slipped my hand into his. “What’s with the ‘Pretty’ thing?” We fell into step behind everyone else, with Ethan and Dr. Fowler leading the way. I stared at the back of Ethan’s head, wondering just what his story was and why he was here in the first place. He’d heard my issues, and now I wanted to know his. Of course, there were a few more pressing things to deal with at the moment.

  Danny swung our hands between us, making me smile a little more. Given the tension of the night, it was nice to have a lighter moment. “Well, for starters, your name’s a damn mouthful. And you’re a pretty girl, therefore, I’m gonna tell you you’re a pretty girl. Unless you’d rather I call you Sexy, or Hottie-Hot-Hot, or—”

  “Pretty’s good.” I blushed. “And thanks. That’s nice to hear, especially when I have scrapes and dried blood all over my face.”

  “Pfft. Don’t worry about that. Makes you look badass.”

  Despite the situation, the smile stayed plastered to my face while we walked down the back roads of our small town. The darkness of the early morning hour made it difficult to see much, for which I was grateful. I wasn’t sure I could handle seeing much more destruction at the moment. But there was no mistaking the huge, uprooted trees blocking the road ahead, along with . . . a house. An actual house was just laying there, right in the middle of the road.

  “Keep going,” Dr. Fowler called out. “Walk around.”

  None of us questioned him. We did as he said and continued on down the road. I was just waiting for myself to wake up. This was all way too surreal.

  “There’s another storm brewing,” Danny murmured.

  He looked up to the sky, and I did the same. Even through the darkness, I could see the thick clouds rotating above. I was about to ask him what the heck we were supposed to do if we were outside and the sky opened on us, but my thoughts were eclipsed by restored hope seconds later. As soon as I saw that the brick sign reading Fairfield was still intact, I broke into a sprint.

  “Kerrigan!” Dr. Fowler yelled. “Stop!”

  I pushed my legs as hard as they could go. I heard footsteps on the asphalt behind me, but paid them no mind because I was home. At least, what was once my home. My excitement died and I skidded to a stop when reality slapped me in the face.

  There was no Fairfield subdivision anymore. There were no houses—just debris from shattered homes, fragments of the trees that once shaded those homes, and what was left of people’s belongings. Of my belongings. I looked down, cringing at the sight of a tattered teddy bear next to my foot. My eyes darted back to the rubble, then filled with tears. The people, my neighbors . . . they were all buried here, in unmarked graves that used to be their homes. And in that moment, my heart crumbled into a thousand pieces.

  My mom. My dad. My little sister. They were here somewhere, but they would never hear the screams coming from my lips. They would never see me collapse to my knees and sob uncontrollably when I realized I would never walk into the warmth of my own house again.

  Gone. It was all gone.

  Just a
s a crack of thunder boomed above me, my arm was nearly ripped from its socket when someone yanked it from behind. “Run!” Ethan yelled, pulling me to my feet.

  I stumbled, attempting to regain my balance. Though my head was far from the moment, I sobered as soon as I glanced up and saw a funnel cloud sprout a tornado before my eyes. I froze, but Ethan tightened his hold on my wrist and took off, pulling me along with him.

  We ran for the ditch on the other side of the road. There was no time to panic, no time to think of what to do next. When we reached the others, Ethan gave me a push toward the ditch. I jumped in, curling into a ball as best I could beside Haven. Seconds later, Ethan covered my body with his, wrapping his arms around me tightly. It was only then that I noticed the tears still streaming down my cheeks, sliding down my chin and plopping onto the ground below.

  “They’re gone.”

  I’m not even sure I expected anyone to hear me, considering my face was nearly buried in dirt, but saying it aloud made it real. And though the wind was howling and Haven was screaming and the world was in disarray above us, Ethan whispered, “I know,” into my ear.

  I choked back a sob, because there was no point in crying anymore. What would I cry for? The fact that their lives were taken away so unfairly? Because honestly, I was happy for them. Happy they didn’t have to see what was happening to the world. My body racked with my cries, and the only comfort I had left in the world was in the arms holding me tightly as the sky crashed on top of us.

  “Do this for them,” Ethan said just loud enough for me to hear. “But you can’t take the burden with you, Kerrigan. You gotta leave them here.”

  Chapter 6

  I was right about one thing—dawn approached quickly. At least, it tried to. The layers of clouds still present in the sky covered up the sun as it rose on the horizon. Would I ever see an actual sunrise again?

  My vision blurred as the six of us continued down the road at a steady pace, toward what now seemed to be an unattainable goal. We’d been walking for hours. Hours. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d walked a mile. I never imagined my life would depend on my hiking down Pennsylvania highways. We hadn’t seen a single soul during our trek. No birds. No squirrels. No dogs or cats or even a mouse. Everything, and everyone, seemed to be gone. What made Dr. Fowler think this was worth pursuing? How did we even know this woman was still alive?

  I may have survived the night, but I was dead inside. Ethan told me to leave the burden behind, but how? How was I supposed to do that when I saw my parents’ faces every time I blinked? Or heard my sister’s laugh echoing in the wind gusting around us? My head and heart were both heavier than a two-ton weight.

  I was sure everyone was tired of seeing me fall apart bit-by-bit. It only made me appear weaker, and I knew they wouldn’t hesitate to leave me behind if they thought I was holding them back. And while staying behind was awfully tempting, I had to keep going. I had to know what connection I had to Bennett, and why I’d never remembered him until now. Until he spoke that one word: exousia. All-consuming power and authority over mankind.

  What a freakin’ psycho.

  I looked up, and everyone was walking much closer together than they had before the last round of tornadoes touched down. I wasn’t too far behind, but I wasn’t thrilled with being around people at the moment, either. I just wanted to be left alone, though I knew if I went off on my own, that was it for me. There was no way I could survive all this by myself.

  I kept my eyes focused straight ahead, because every time I so much as glanced to the side, I was met with nauseating devastation. Every building was demolished. Houses were reduced to piles of splintered wood that scattered across the fields. Trees were now nothing but firewood. These were people’s homes. Their lives. All destroyed overnight by him. And judging by the black clouds still swirling above, it was far from over.

  My eyes burned, and I squeezed them closed to force the tears away. Now wasn’t the time for crying. It wasn’t the time for weakness. Now was the time to accept that this was my new life. Now, I was homeless. I was an orphan.

  I was alone.

  As I opened my eyes, I slammed into the back of Ethan, who’d slowed to join my pace. Disoriented, I stumbled a little, but he placed both hands on my shoulders to steady me.

  “I’m okay,” I muttered, dragging my feet forward and walking ahead of him. “You can stop asking me.” I knew I was being flat-out rude, but my filter had disappeared along with any emotion left in me. I was just . . . numb.

  “Hey!” he called out.

  I groaned and stopped, rubbing my forehead. He was a nice guy and all, but why couldn’t he just leave me alone for a while? I didn’t want to be around people. I didn’t want him to be all sweet and concerned when I just felt like curling into the fetal position somewhere. When he caught up with me, he didn’t force conversation, for which I was grateful. We fell into step with one another and picked up our pace so we weren’t so far behind everyone else.

  I felt like a jerk. I mean, he had saved my life a few hours earlier. He’d been so nice to me all night—even let me sleep on his shoulder while he sat on the cold cement floor. So why was I incapable of at least being civil to him?

  “I’m sorry,” I said after we’d been walking for a few minutes.

  He shrugged, but kept his eyes trained ahead. “No worries.”

  “I’m just so tired of people treating me with kid gloves,” I continued. “You have to understand that about me. I’ve been handled like a mental case for most of my life, especially these past couple of years. Not saying you treated me that way.” Tears pooled in my eyes yet again, and I wiped them away with a bitter laugh. “Just kind of on edge considering my family’s dead. No big deal.”

  Instead of tuning me out like I’d expected, and probably deserved, Ethan tossed his arm across my shoulders again. It was comforting, but the contact tripped off another floodgate of tears. They streamed down my cheeks without mercy, but I kept my pace. Stray from the group, you’re no longer part of the group. He didn’t say anything, just squeezed my shoulder as we kept on.

  “Does no one else care?” I asked, nodding toward the group ahead. Nate and Danny walked side-by-side behind Dr. Fowler, and Haven trailed behind them with her head hanging down, kicking at rocks that littered the crumbled road. Haven reminded me far too much of my sister. She was slender and frail, and with her black hair and pale skin, she was an older clone of Bethany, right down to that purple streak. Simply looking at the back of her head made my heart clench. A sob caught in my throat, but I cleared it away. I was so stinkin’ tired of crying. “Don’t they care about their families?”

  “I can only speak for myself, but honestly?” He shook his head. “Can’t say I care.”

  “Why not?”

  He paused for a minute before answering. “I was in Sunrise for a reason, Kerrigan.”

  “So, you’re saying it had something to do with your family?” I asked.

  “It had everything to do with my family.” His jaw stiffened. I wasn’t sure if it was because of my questions or something he was thinking about.

  “My parents sucked,” he said after a pause. “My mom liked to yell. My dad liked to hit. The two didn’t mesh well together.” I stared up at him, speechless, as he kept on. “One night, my dad went too far. My mom . . . she was a fucking mess. Blood was everywhere. I yanked him off her and broke his nose. The next day, Mom screamed that I was out of control and they tossed me into Sunrise.”

  “I’m sorry.” It was all I could think to say. I mean, what else could I say to that?

  “So now, I’ve been deemed a kid with anger management issues.” He scoffed. “You’d think she would have been happy that I kind of, you know, saved her life. But whatever.”

  “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’ve been deemed emotionally unstable with possible schizophrenia.” He looked down at me, and I managed a small smile. “We’re a pretty awesome pair, huh?”

  Finally, his
grimace shifted into a smile of his own. “A crazy girl and . . .”

  “A ragey guy,” I finished with a slight pep in my step. “See? They even kind of rhyme. We’re perfect for each other.” I stopped short at that, realizing what I’d just said and praying to every god in the universe that he hadn’t heard. Judging by the barely suppressed smile on his face, he had. Whoops.

  Danny turned to face us, walking backward to keep up with everyone else. “Hey!” he yelled. “You two lovebirds bringing up the rear need to get a move on!”

  “Oh God,” Ethan mumbled, but I couldn’t help but laugh, too. “Danny Cooper, ladies and gents. A twelve-year-old stuck in a seventeen-year-old’s body.”

  Just as Danny turned back around, Dr. Fowler came to an abrupt halt, and Danny nearly walked right into him. Ethan and I caught up with them seconds later. With his arm still securely around my shoulders, I leaned into Ethan’s side while searching the area for any sign of trouble. We were out in the middle of nowhere, walking down a road that ran through what used to be a forest in the outskirts of some town. A few massive trees were left standing, but that was it. I’d lived in Pennsylvania all my life, but without GPS, or at least internet directions, I was pretty much useless. I was starting to wish I’d taken my dad up on all those camping trip invites.

  “What’s up, Doc?” Danny asked. The mood of the group tensed immediately.

  “I thought I heard something,” Dr. Fowler said. He glanced down at his watch. “We can stop here for a few minutes if you all need to eat, but it wouldn’t hurt to hold out on the food for a little longer.”

  We all murmured that we were good to go, even though my stomach raged. The food’s only going to last for like, a day, I reminded myself as we resumed walking. Keep going. You can make it. I really hoped we’d get to this woman’s house sooner than expected. I wasn’t sure whether we would make it on our current supplies or not. And how the heck were we supposed to get through the night? Temperatures dropped down to the twenties, if not lower, this time of year. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the worry aside as best I could. Worrying created weakness. Weakness was no good. Keep going.