by Alexa Dare
Scuffing his toes of his clunky army boots in the fast-drying mud, Abe stood nearby, while Irene, Merv, and Vincent boarded the tank.
Mistrust scoured Abe’s gaze.
He was relieved Brody was better.
Yet, while the tightness in Abe’s shoulders lessened, his clenched jaws remained and a twitch jumped in his lower right cheek.
In the Holston River, a few flaming waves shoved corpses like rotting, floating timber logs against the curve of the bank as the downriver current worked to wash the ugly away.
Guilt as hot as and the size of a mountain afire pressed around Abe.
With a weak exhale, he cast a forlorn glance in the direction of the tallest peak in the vicinity. Blinking, he took a dazed half step back. “The peak of Briar Patch is gone, as if it never existed in the first place.”
Chapter 9
Right outside the metal-plated Am-Sub’s hull, in a dawn-shrouded land as desolate as any electronic Sci-Fi game scene Brody might design, charred tree trunks smoked.
In the burned wood leavings, blackened spindly, bare branches from tornado damage splintered the reality of the once spring-lush Wednesday morning forest.
The mudslide dried in a scorch of cracks and fissures. The harsh fumes of burned wood and crunchy, fried dirt couldn’t compete with the gag-o-matic reek of cooking fish and people.
Eyes stinging and watering from the stench, he swallowed thickly and hugged Darcy Lynn and Hannah extra tight. “Load up. We’re moving out.”
“Junior needs us.” Darcy Lynn tromped up the Am-Sub steps. “Now.”
“We’ll make use of this.” With worry etching each of her features , Hannah retrieved the folded blue tarp and followed. Together they draped the tarp over as much of the control panel as possible.
Brody shook his head. “Not like Uncle Merv to leave supplies behind. Guess he’s got other things on his mind.”
The girls scurried to pick up scattered tools and gear and tossed them under the below-seat compartments.
Abe grunted. “We can’t trust Vincent. He scared Darcy Lynn while your uncle tended to you. Vincent did something out-there-zombie-weird with a beetle bug. He meant to frighten her on purpose. What’s he doing here, with your uncle anyways?”
“Good question.” Heaviness tugged down the sides of Brody’s mouth. He rubbed his upper chest with his right hand.
“You’re not all better are you?” Abe asked.
“Wish I was, but I don’t think so. I didn’t know Uncle Merv could lay hands on and heal someone.” Brody plopped into the passenger seat. “My chest hurts like a booger. Something’s still not right, but I’m a bit better.” Brody hefted a shoulder. “I’m telling you this, because if something happens to me, they’ll look to you, Abe.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to you.” Yet Abe puffed his chest as if bolstered that Brody would say so.
“Something might.”
“Or not.” Shadows of someone that’d experienced too much horror at too young of an age bruised the hollows under Abe’s eyes.
Brody stared back through the opening where the window had been blown out and the smoking and stinking river of the dead. “Chaos wins, remember?”
The kid squared his shoulders and did his best to stare Brody down.
“Are you going to get us through the flash fires?” asked Brody.
“With Hannah’s help.” Abe snorted.
The outer edge of Brody’s lips twitched upward. “She’s going to gripe.”
Abe lifted his chin. “The whole dang way.”
“Come on, you guys possess the Junior radar, so which way?”
Darcy Lynn pointed.
“Vincent’s bad news.” Abe spoke low. “Your uncle should never have picked him up or trusted him.”
“Uncle Merv’s a smart mountain man. Maybe he’s keeping his enemy close.”
“Smart, maybe. I don’t have to like it though.” Abe took the Am-Sub driver’s seat.
Hannah stood right behind him.
In the co-pilot seat, Brody slumped.
Even as they move forward, the burning wood and big tank fuel smells sucked in through the back window opening. The big tank chugged along behind, the roar of the motor loud and insistent.
Since, at times, drizzle dripped inside the vehicle’s cab, Darcy Lynn put on a man-sized bright yellow rain coat. She sat next to Brody with her face tucked into a large hood. “I’m glad Miss Irene and your Uncle Merv found the twins and you. Really I am.”
“But?” Brody shifted from the copilot seat to the first-row seat to sit next to the little girl.
“I wish my grandparents were here,” said Darcy Lynn. “Did Vincent really make my Mamaw and Papaw sick? But only because the bad guys made him, he likes hurting bugs and people.” Darcy Lynn’s wide blue eyes seemed to fill her entire upper face.
“I think maybe he does.”
She bumped her heels against the seat. “I’m sorry about your brother.”
“Me too.” Brody’s eyes kept returning to the opening where his brother had written Chaos Wins on the now missing window glass.
From behind, the chug of the tank reminded Brody he still had family in the world.
The raincoat crinkled as Darcy Lynn tucked her hand in his.
Clunky and awkward, he held her hand as if the tiny fingers were more fragile than a fine bead of solder.
If he and the children made it to safety—not if, when—Brody could use the Am-Sub computer and electronics system to get online and find out how far-reaching the skewed elements traveled. No doubt, the news reports would be filled with pictures and film of wide spread devastation.
The internet must be burning up about the wonky elements running amok in the southeastern United States.
He could imagine the headlines.
Nature Attacks Tennessee Mountains.
Devastated Tennessee Residents Struggle in Aftermath of Nature’s Fury.
Tennessee Suffers Nature Gone Wrong.
“Big news for bad days ahead,” he muttered.
Though Darcy Lynn remained mostly dry, except for the hand tucked in his, the rest of them were soaked to the skin.
After a while, the seven-year-old asked, “We’ll save him, won’t we? We’ll find him, and he’ll be with us, and we can find cheesy pizza and French fries too.”
A mountainous weight lying heavy on his shoulders, Brody “I’ll do my best by Junior. You and Abe too. Even Hannah.”
“She’s not so bad. Most times.” Darcy Lynn blew a stream at the rain drips dripping from the hood of the raincoat. Droplets darted outward away from her face. “Except for the inside rain.”
Through the darkness into the sunrise, the twins worked in tandem to clear their path. At times, Abe used his ability with fire to harden mud bogs that would have swallowed both the ATV and tank. Hannah put out fires and drew ground water away from ravines.
“Hannah’s mostly okay.” Brody mock-whispered, “But kind of bossy.”
“Busy,” Hannah said, “but I can hear you guys.”
“I’m not a guy.” Darcy Lynn stuck out her lower lip in a perfect little girl bow-pout.
“Getting close. Is that what you sense?” Abe’s flushed face and fever-glazed eyes lifted to the rearview mirror.
“Yes. Really close. Where is he?” Darcy Lynn stood. Water repelled by her bright coat sluiced all over Brody.
“Sorry.” Abe halted the ATV. “He’s here. Somewhere.”
“Where?” Hannah stretched her neck and peered out the windshield.
Brody stood and wrung out the bottom hem of his olive-drab T-shirt. He squinted and studied the desolate terrain.
“I don’t see him.” Hands on hips, Darcy Lynn turned full circle to look out of the ATV windows.
“There.” Abe pointed at a charred tree stump.
“He’s hallucinating.”
“What’s hello singing?” asked Darcy Lynn.
“He’s seeing things that aren’t there.” Brody gru
nted. A barn-sized double-patty, cheddar cheese with mustard burger mirage wouldn’t be too bad.
“Junior’s real close.” Darcy Lynn darted from window to window. “He should be here.”
“Brody,” Abe mumbled, “you’d better drive.”
“No. We can’t go. He’s here.” Darcy Lynn ran to the door.
When no one opened the door right away, she whirled and raced to the back window. She climbed out the empty frame before any of them could react. Her little hands clutched, then disappeared from the bottom window edge.
Abe muttered an extended, “Crap.”
“Double crap.” Brody’s face warmed.
“Ditto, but add dog poo,” said Hannah. “Darcy Lynn Carpenter, you get back in here. Right now.”
A puckered seam scarred the top layer of dirt near where Darcy Lynn stomped. “He’s here I tell you. Right here.”
Once they all exited the ATV, Abe sat on the ground. He propped his back against the track mount of the Am-Sub. “She’s right. He’s close by.”
“So close we should be seeing him.” Hannah scrubbed her bare upper arms with her knuckles to chase away chill bumps.
“The wind.” In the calm, Darcy Lynn closed her eyes and held out her arm with her twirling index finger extended.
At first, no wind stirred. A steamy heaviness hovered around them, then a soft, welcome fresh spring breeze, barely a breath, shifted Brody’s hair and tickled the back of his ears.
“Darcy Lynn, we don’t need more wind storms.” Hannah propped her fists on her hips.
“Shush.” Darcy Lynn held up her right index finger.
Wind flapped the long tail of her raincoat. The hood slipped from her blonde head, her hair shifted and floated around her.
Eyes closed, she turned in a circle. She walked three or so yards along the bulging ground seam, then as if the wind guided her arm like a divining rod, she lowered her shifting finger downward. “The wind says he’s not up here. So that means down. Way down.”
A gust puffed in Brody’s face.
The light morning breeze swished outward and settled to a barely perceptible breezy hug.
Hannah approached Darcy Lynn. Water puddle around her bare feet. She knelt and trailed her fingertips through the wetness. “She’s right. He’s down there. Somewhere.”
“The dirt will take care of him,” said Abe.
“He’s afraid.” Darcy Lynn turned and a breeze swiped Brody from the side. “Nora’s coming.”
Abe jabbed a finger at Vincent atop the tank turret. “He knows she is.”
Vincent, near the base of the big gun barrel, smirked.
The ground quivered, and the tank’s front dipped. Vincent tumbled, hit the ground, and rolled.
Heat tightened in Brody’s chest. He motioned his uncle to back the ancient tank away. As if Uncle Merv had a snowball’s chance of hearing, he yelled, “Collapsed caves or tunnels beneath.”
Uncle Merv’s head popped out the hatch hole, then disappeared inside.
Gears groaned and the tracks turned from bottom up, and the tank, belching smoke and gas fumes, backed out of the indentation in the ground and away.
The earth beneath Brody and the kids lifted and swayed.
“Junior’s saying hello.” Darcy Lynn grinned.
The hardened crust beneath where Vincent lay flat on his back split. The tear lengthened and widened.
Vincent, struggling to get back the breath the fall knocked out of him, lifted his head to look at them. Terror smeared the superior teenage sneer from his face.
Like the maw of some sort of monster, the gap opened.
Vincent grabbed at the edges, then dropped out of sight.
“Oh,” Darcy Lynn said, “he’ll hurt Junior.”
“Nah.” Abe, his eyes shiny from fever, chuckled. “Junior’s on his own turf.”
“Vincent can’t trick us or hurt us if he’s not around.” Darcy Lynn edged to peer down into the hole. “Junior’s keeping us safe.”
“Into the Am-Sub. Quick.” A fevered Abe crawled up the steps to the cabin.
Brody whisked Darcy Lynn into his arms.
Inside the Am-Sub, Hannah dragged Abe down the aisle by the twisted bunch of T-shirt at his back. They all scrambled into seats.
Except no one claimed the driver’s seat.
Dang.
Chest filled with a deep, throbbing pain and his stomach twisted into a queasy knot, Brody set Darcy Lynn on the closest seat and closed the door.
Claiming the driver’s seat, Brody backed the Am-Sub, in lurching fits and jerks, away from the tornado, avoiding as many ruts and holes as possible.
With a steady shake of a low-grade earthquake, the ground dropped out from under them.
“Hold on.” Stomach plunged into his throat, Brody gripped the steering wheel. He stomped and rammed his boot down on the useless brake pedal.
Hannah’s startled gaze met Brody's in the rearview.
The Am-Sub fell.
The four of them screamed.
Darkness engulfed them.
“Where’s the nightlight?” asked Darcy Lynn.
In a plunge, the vehicle slid rather than fell.
The ATV, tipped forty-five degrees toward the front, slid along at a breakneck pace.
“Like a chute. Hold on. This is fun.” Delirious in his fever haze, Abe stood in the shadowy aisle. He held on to seats on each side and leaned with the sway of the cabin.
“Junior saved us from the whirly wind.” Darcy Lynn waved her hands to lift a playful breeze. “Wheeeee.”
“The power and all the electrical stuff. I didn’t mean to make such a mess,” Hannah said from the opposite side of the Am-Sub cab.
“Always a price,” Brody said, “just like the Evil Scientist Nora claimed.”
Earthy darkness wrapped around them until even the shadows hid in the shrouding black.
“Junior would have the ground deliver us to him, either way.” Brody held on to the steering wheel, not driving but for dear life, plummeting into an unlit pit.
“But I broke our ride.” Hannah sighed. “I had hoped we’d get to make a snack run. I guess finding a grape soda and a pack of peanut butter crackers is out.”
Then we hitch a ride on my uncle’s tank or walk.” Brody said, “Not the end of the world.”
“Oh, Brody. What if it is?” The girl’s melancholy trembled in her voice and hung in the cab like one of her heavy rains.
As a heavy mist formed, the Am-Sub’s descent slowed. With a gentle bump like a roller coaster car, the ATV slid to a stop.
In the pitch-blackness, a beam of light hit Brody in the face. Abe muttered, “Sorry.”
The stream of light swung away, to land on Hannah’s pale face. “Hey.”
“You found a flashlight.” Dancing dots blinked before Brody’s eyes.
“Fell out of one of the upper cabinets.” Abe said, “There are ghosts down here.”
“You’re seeing things.” Hannah shuffled toward Abe. “We have to get your fever down.”
“Do ghosts dig holes?” asked Abe.
“Of course not, dweeb.”
The beam of the light zigged and swayed as the twins wrestled for the flashlight.
“Wait. You saw someone digging? In which direction?” Brody’s gazed searched the solid black.
“Don’t encourage his delusion. Give me the light.”
“Hey, I want that back.”
Hannah shoved something into Brody’s hands.
“Where, Abe?”
“To your right. At three o’clock. No two.”
Brody felt for a switch. He found a rubbery nub, pushed, and aimed the big square flashlight in the direction Abe indicated.
In the beam’s circle, three dirt and mud smeared men stood before a wall of rock blocking a tunnel. From their direction, a heavy-duty light came on. The blast of brightness robbed Brody of his vision. Jiggling dots danced in front of his eyes. “No ghosts.”
“Three men. They’re headed
this way.” Hannah yelled, “Turn out the light.”
“No don’t. I need to be able to see.”
Hurt raged with each beat of Brody’s heart. “Abe, don’t be rash. You don’t have to do this.”
“Junior’s on the other side of the wall. They’re between us and Junior. They’re going to hurt us.” Abe’s level voice sounded so eerily grounded in reason.
“Your temperature’s spiked pretty high.” Brody turned off the beam. He sucked in the fast-fading new car aroma of the Am-Sub cabin. “You’re not thinking clearly.”
“Even if my fever’s through the roof, I know what I have to do.”
Hannah grabbed the light from Brody, clicked on the flashlight, and aimed the beam toward the three men welding shovels.
“Don’t do this, Abe.” The memory of pushing the gas pedal to ram the Am-Sub into, then over his brother twitched in Brody’s fingers and fisted around his heart. “Take my word for it, there’s no going back.”
Chapter 10
Inside the silent ATV interior, the seeping ache of chill, thanks to Hannah’s temp lowering effects, struggled to lower Abe’s high fever.
Energy stoked the blackness. Abe’s sense of smell ramped. He inhaled even the faint berry aroma of the stuffed animal leftovers and the aluminum foil sharpness of their combined fear.
Streams of sweat crawled from Abe’s hairline over his jawline and down his neck like bugs.
No way was he going to think about the sick trick Vincent pulled with the injured beetle, yet he shuddered and squinted to bring the blur of the cave within a flashlight beam into focus through his feverish haze.
Spotlighted by Hannah’s trembling six-foot circle of light, three burly men, all three taller than six foot and wider than football players, charged toward the Am-Sub.
As if chopping with axes, they swung shovels with sharpened spoon-like metal blades. Like death dressed in camo, the men’s wide toothy grimaces shot stark white in mud-smeared faces.
The motor of the ATV sat silent.
“There has to be another way.” Brody, frantic and spazzing in wide elbow jabs within the outer rim of the flashlight, studied the unlit dash. “No time for repairs.”
Trapped and tired of running, Abe asked, “Hannah, does the water tell you where Junior is?”