by M. C. Sutton
“Where is everyone?”
He wiped a tear from his face before answering. “Well, I think my brother and your brother have been perched up in a deer stand somewhere on the other side of the property all day. Leah somehow managed to sneak off with Daniel. And my parents were holed up at the cabin for the last two days before leaving for Allred’s funeral this morning. I guess with everything that’s gone on, they just felt like they needed some time alone.”
“That didn’t help you feel any better, though, I’m sure.”
Matt bowed his head. She knew him so well. It was only going to make this harder.
“Matt, you haven’t answered any of my calls. And you haven’t shown up for any of your shifts, either.”
“I’ve had a lot going on, Alex. I just needed some time.”
“Luke told me you quit.”
Matt rubbed a hand across his face. He knew if he was going to do this, he was going to have to look her in the eyes, no matter how much he didn’t want to.
He stood, wiped his hands on his jeans, and turned around. “Alex, I don’t think we should spend time together anymore.”
Alex crossed her arms and looked away. “Damn it, Matthew Grant. You’re going to do this to me again?”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I!”
A lump started to form in Matt’s throat as he watched her try to discreetly wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. “Look, I’m sorry, okay?”
“No, you’re not. You don’t care how I feel at all.”
Matt stepped up to her then, staring down into those beautiful blue-gray eyes. “You’re right. I don’t,” he said quietly.
Alex wrinkled her forehead. “What?”
“I’m an Empath, Alex. I don’t feel about you the way you feel about me. Don’t you see that? I don’t feel anything, except for what other people feel. So, yes, I’m sure that when you’re around me it seems like I do, but the truth is, when you’re not around, I feel nothing for you. Absolutely nothing.”
Her lip started to tremble. “I know what you’re trying to do, Matt.”
“Do you?”
“Yes,” she answered, scanning his face.
Matt knew she was trying to get a read on how he was really feeling. But honestly, at that moment, all he felt was numb.
She lowered her voice. “Can you honestly look me in the eyes, Matia, and tell me you don’t have feelings for me?”
Matt stared back at her with an expression of stone-cold seriousness. “I’m sorry, Alex. I don’t.”
She turned away from him. “All right. You know what? Fine, if that’s how you want it to be. But don’t expect me to wait around for you to figure out whatever the hell it is that you want, Matthew Grant.”
Matt stared at his feet as she walked away. A spider crawled through the grass in front of him. He lifted one soggy shoe.
And stomped it into the ground.
*
Thirteen hundred miles away, in Elizabeth City, North Carolina, Jonathan Grant stood in front of a mirror in a hotel room, fiddling with his tie for the second time in the last two weeks. Emma stepped out of the bathroom behind him, wearing a black dress almost identical to the one she’d lost in Dallas.
“You know, you really do look fantastic in that dress,” he told her as she looped his tie around and pulled it through.
She gave him only the faintest hint of a smile. It was an expression they’d both unconsciously adopted over the last week. “I’m sorry it had to be for such a grim occasion.”
For a split second Jon thought about suggesting they go out to dinner, so she could have the proper opportunity to show off her dress, but with the funeral and everything else that had happened, the idea seemed shallow.
He turned back to the mirror to finish adjusting his tie.
“Are you ready for this?” she asked.
“No more ready than I was the last time I had to do it.”
She squeezed his hand. “Come on, sweetheart,” she said. “Let’s go.”
They rode in silence as the driver took them to the old Waterfront Park on the banks of the Pasquotank River, where the service would be held. Jon hadn’t set foot in Elizabeth City since Danny’s funeral, but from the very moment they landed, the salty smell of the sea had washed up memories that had been all too easily forgotten in the landlocked life of southwest Missouri. Some of them good memories. Some of them bad. All of them, at that moment, very painful.
Neither he nor Emma noticed when their car fell into line behind the hearse. When the driver parked behind it, Jon stepped out and offered a hand to Emma. She quietly kissed him on the cheek, then went to take her place in the front row, with Jack’s wife Abigail and their closest friends and family.
Jon took his place at the back of the hearse with the other pallbearers, including his grandfather and President Saundra. Saundra, who had been Jack’s closest friend, had taken it upon himself to make most of the arrangements—including, as his last presidential order before the United States was absorbed into the GOG, declaring Waterfront Park a national landmark so that Jack could be buried by the sea in the state he loved so much. He had even had the park renamed.
Allred Memorial Park. It had a nice ring to it.
Jon stared at the pavement beneath his feet as the driver came around to the back of the hearse to open the doors. The pallbearers, nodding to each other in silence, took their places on either side of the coffin as it was slid out, an American flag draped across the top. Ironic, thought Jon as he put one hand on Saundra’s shoulder and grabbed a handle, considering that Jack died in the hopes of saving his country.
It was a country that wouldn’t exist for much longer.
They made their way slowly up the walk toward the water, passing cameras and reporters, people standing with arms crossed reverently in the back, and row upon row of folding chairs. Jon spotted Aaron and Rachael in the crowd. Aaron nodded. Rachael smiled.
They placed the coffin on a metal stand above the open grave. From what Jon understood, Saundra had commissioned a monument to be erected just behind the burial site in Jack’s honor. Jon hoped it would be finished and in place before the GOG took control, otherwise it might not get done at all. Quite possibly out of spite.
Jon’s grandfather and the other pallbearers went to sit with their families in the crowd. Jon followed Saundra up to the temporary stage and took a seat in one of the chairs behind the podium. He only halfway heard Saundra’s opening remarks.
Then he introduced Jon for the eulogy. Jon stepped up to the podium and looked out over the crowd. “The last time I had to do something like this,” he started quietly, “was when Uncle Jack asked me to speak at his son Danny’s funeral. They were a lot alike, Jack and Danny. Though Danny would never admit it. They were both kind and sincere. They were dedicated and considerate. They were determined and unwavering, and unbelievably stubborn.” He paused, the hint of a smile forming on his face.
It quickly faded.
“But most of all, they were loyal, loyal friends. Up until the very end. Today we celebrate and honor the memory of Jacob Allen Allred. A man without whom I wouldn’t be standing here today. A man who…”
Jon turned his gaze to the people sitting in the front row. Emma, his grandfather, Aunt Abigail… A group of people he loved desperately. It was also a group, he sadly observed, that had gotten significantly smaller over the years.
Then Jon’s eyes met Emma’s, the woman he loved more than anyone or anything in the universe. He had told her that morning how beautiful she looked, but in that moment—in that grim and grievous moment—more than anything she just looked tired. As if she had gotten less sleep in the last week than she had in all the restless, sleepless nights of the last few months. As if the things she had been through in Dallas, in her dreams, and whatever she continued to go through in her own head, weighed more heavily on her mind than all the horrible tragedies she had seen or endured over the course of her entire life.
&nbs
p; And suddenly, Jon just couldn’t handle it anymore.
He was so tired of losing people. All he’d ever wanted to do was protect her, protect everyone he loved. He’d thought that maybe if he parted ways with the world, everything would be okay. That he wouldn’t have to lose anyone else. That he wouldn’t have to do this anymore.
But the truth was, Jack was right. He couldn’t just bury his head in the sand. Emma’s desperate attempts to always save everyone were no different than his own desire to protect the people he cared about. Because in the end, the one thing she knew that he didn’t—the one thing that played over and over in her head—was that no matter how much they hid from the world, the world would eventually come to them.
The war would be on their doorstep.
And they wouldn’t have anyone left to help them fight it.
Jon cleared his throat and continued. “A man who taught me,” he said, “that you can’t run from who you really are. Jack Allred lived every day of his life by a standard that few of us can ever even hope to achieve. He loved, and lived, and died for his family, his friends, his country, and his fellow man. May we all endeavor to live our own lives in such a way—“ His eyes began to blur. “—in such a way that we make him proud. We love you, Uncle Jack. You saw the best in all of us, even when we didn’t see it in ourselves. Reveritas ad astra. May you return to the stars.”
“… to the stars,” murmured the crowd as Jon stepped down from the stage and took a seat next to Emma.
“Thank you, Jon,” said Saundra as he returned to the podium. “And although some of you may consider what I’m about to do to be in poor taste, those of you who knew the vice president well would also know he would find it to be ironically humorous and brilliantly strategic, which is one of the things that I personally admired and loved about Jack Allred. I would like to take this opportunity to say that this will be my last public address as president. Effective at midnight tonight, I am officially resigning from office—though at this point, I think the gesture is no more than a formality. Despite my best efforts to veto the questionable proceedings that occurred after the bombing in Dallas, the GOG will soon take control of what was once our beloved United States of America, and I have respectfully declined the position offered to me as chief of state under GOG rule.”
Jon looked sideways at Emma, who squeezed his hand. He looked past her to his grandfather, several seats down, and wondered if Pops had known that Saundra was about to jump ship.
“At this point I would like to open the floor to anyone who would care to share their own stories and thoughts about Vice President Jack Allred. As well as any—” He glanced toward the line of FBI agents that spanned the back of the park. “—concerns they may share about the current state of affairs.”
The remainder of the funeral went by in a blur of teary eyes and dry throats, with beautiful things said about Jack and disturbing things said about the GOG. Saundra was right—it was brilliant. This was quite possibly the largest gathering of influential people since the convention itself, and the GOG wouldn’t dare have the audacity to try to censor a funeral being broadcasted live.
But eventually Saundra insisted that they wrap things up, as it was starting to get dark, and with so many high-ranking officials out in the open, security was afraid it would be a safety concern. Jon was relieved. The hard metal chair, as well as the foreboding that had settled into the air, was making him uncomfortable.
“Jon, you did a fantastic job,” Rachael told him as he, Emma, Aaron, and Pops stood talking while everyone else made their way to their cars. “Jack would have been proud, and I don’t just mean about the speech.”
“Thanks, Rachael,” he said. “I really appreciate it.”
Ostentatious clapping sounded just behind him. “I couldn’t agree more, Captain. It really was quite inspiring.”
Jon had hoped never to hear that voice again for the rest of his life.
“Well, Mr. and Mrs. Grant. Mr. and Mrs. Dallin,” said Bennett as he joined their small group. “Jon Matthew,” he added, glaring at Pops.
Pops didn’t say a word.
“I was quite relieved to hear all of you somehow managed to survive that incredible ordeal in Dallas. Some of you,” said Bennett, turning to Jon and Emma and raising an eyebrow, “quite miraculously, from what I’m told.”
Emma stepped closer to Jon and took his arm.
“And us as well, of course, Minister,” said Jon. “I’m sure we were all pleased to learn that you managed to find your way out of the building. We were especially worried,” he added, “when you completely disappeared.”
Bennett curled a lip.
“Oh, wait, I’m sorry. Do we even still call you Minister? Or will it be President Bennett soon?”
“How very intuitive of you to ask, Captain,” answered Bennett with a smile. “That is, after all, the very reason I stepped over here. You’re a hard man to get a hold of, Grant. I was hoping I might be able to have a word with you in private?”
Jon crossed his arms and didn’t move.
Bennett frowned. “Have it your way. Captain Jonathan Jacob Grant, on behalf of the Global Order Government, I would like to officially extend to you an offer for the position of chief of state over the geographical area soon to be known as the North American Faction.”
Jon’s jaw dropped. He glanced around to see if anyone outside their little group had overheard Bennett’s preposterous, and much louder than he would have liked, offer.
“You can’t possibly be serious,” said Pops.
Thanks for the vote of confidence, thought Jon. “Why in the world would the GOG want me as chief of state, Bennett? I’m no politician. I’m not even remotely qualified.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t sell yourself short, Captain. You’re a decorated war hero, a brilliant strategist, a natural—” Bennett glanced down at Jon’s ring. “—born leader. I personally think you’d make an excellent addition to the other nine heads of state, wouldn’t you agree, Dr. Grant?”
Emma stared silently at the ground.
“Look, Captain, I’ll be honest with you. You’re not exactly my first choice for the job, but I’ve been directed to extend the offer nevertheless. Besides, you could always look at it this way: if nothing else, you’ll have much more control over those ‘current affairs’ that you and Saundra and the rest of your ultra-conservative frat brothers are so worried about.”
“You know what, Bennett?” said Jon. “I think I’m going to have to follow the lead of my good friend, President Saundra, and respectfully decline.”
Bennett stepped uncomfortably closer and lowered his voice. “Make no mistake, Grant. This will be our only offer, and quite possibly your one chance to ensure you are,” he said, glancing at Pops, “on the right side when the line is drawn in the sand, as it were.”
Jon narrowed his eyes. “I think I know which side is the right one, Bennett.”
Bennett took a step back. “I hope for your sake you’re right, Captain.” He turned to Emma. “Say hello to your children for me,” he said, then turned and walked away.
“That was interesting,” said Aaron.
Jon took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Well, I think it’s official. Things can’t possibly get any more messed up than that. Makes you wonder what in the world we all did to deserve it.”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Jon Jacob,” said Pops. “Everything happens for a reason.”
That was just a little bit more than Jon could handle. “Look around you, Pops! Jack is dead, the GOG is running the show, and the entire world is going to hell in a handbasket! So tell me, please, exactly what reason could there possibly be for all of this?”
Pops cocked his head. “Why, to bring us all to the point where we are right now, of course.”
“What does that even mean?”
“Well,” said Aaron, “it doesn’t matter now, does it? Despite everything we went through, it looks like Bennett is going to end up getting his way after all.”
Pops grinned. “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far just yet.”
CHAPTER 37
“ARE YOU SURE YOU EVEN know where you’re going?” said Sarah for the third time that afternoon.
Jon glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Yes, Sarah. According to the coordinates Pops gave us, and the GPS on the dashboard, this is exactly the direction we’re supposed to be headed.”
She turned to the window. “I don’t know why we couldn’t just fly. It would’ve been a heck of a lot better than being stuck in your truck for the last four and a half hours.”
Jon looked sideways at Emma in the passenger seat. He kept expecting her to have fallen asleep, but she’d stayed awake the entire trip with her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “Because,” said Jon, “Pops said we needed to be discreet, and the FAA has been under the GOG’s thumb since before they even took over. So I’m afraid flying wasn’t an option.”
Not that it would have mattered. He scanned the endless stretch of highway and farmland that encompassed the whole of northern Missouri. There isn’t even anywhere out here to land.
He checked the GPS one more time before making the turn onto the country road that didn’t appear to lead to anything other than more farmland.
“Jon, are you sure we’re really headed the right way?” Emma whispered. “I mean, there’s absolutely nothing out here. How are we even supposed to know when we’re in the right place?”
“Honestly?” whispered Jon, glancing back to make sure Sarah wasn’t listening. “I’m not even sure. All Pops said was, ‘You’ll know it when you see it.’”
They took one last turn onto an unmarked dirt road that led through a small grove of trees. At the end of that road, according to the GPS, were the coordinates that Jon’s grandfather had written down for him—with the strict instructions to “guard them with his life.”
Jon revved the engine up one last stretch of hillside, came to the end of the road, and stopped the truck.
A vast valley stretched out before them.
Jon and Emma exchanged a glance before getting out. An unmistakable tingling burned in Jon’s chest as he stood beside the truck and stared out across the rolling hillside.