by E S Richards
“I know,” Rylan nodded, understanding how Mike felt about wanting to make their father proud and sharing the sentiment. “I just don’t want you to go.”
“Yeah, I don’t really want to either. It’s not going to be long term, though; Dad will get me out in a couple of weeks at most.”
“Weeks? You didn’t say it was going to be that long before.”
Mike grimaced. After the conversation the two siblings had shared with their father—where Jackson explained to Rylan what was happening—Jackson had given Mike a few additional details about his return to the Authority. He didn’t have a lot of factual information, just estimations about how long it would take for enough information to be gathered and for their rebel movement to build up the strength to overthrow the Authority. Jackson had told Mike it would likely be at least two weeks of data mining, a timeline he hadn’t been prepared for when he first agreed to it. Mike’s first stint in the pit was just short of eleven days and that had been long enough; he wasn’t sure how much longer he would last, but as he kept reminding himself, he now didn’t have a choice.
“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Mike excused himself to Rylan. “I wanted to talk to you more about it last night. By the time Dad let me go you were already asleep. You know none of this would be happening if there was another option, right?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Rylan nodded, fully aware of how things worked in their family. Jackson made the decisions and they either fell into line or suffered the consequences. He knew Mike was only doing exactly what he would’ve done if their father had asked him instead; in reality, Rylan understood how lucky he was that Jackson hadn’t chosen him. “Still though,” he rubbed a hand on the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’ll miss you, bro.”
“I’ll miss you too, Ry,” Mike smiled. “Come on, why don’t we go to breakfast? I’ve got a lot more goodbyes to say than just this one, it seems.”
Rylan laughed, allowing his brother space to get up and get dressed for the day. As a partnership, they weren’t particularly affectionate between them. Nevertheless, both Mike and Rylan loved the other greatly and wanted the other to know that. Still, there was nothing more than a fist bump shared between them to say goodbye, hopeful that they would be reunited again shortly.
Entering the cafeteria for breakfast, Mike’s eyes quickly landed on Joel and Hazel, the other sibling duo having breakfast with their mother as they did every day. Mike was finally used to not seeing Chase, Riley, and Leo sitting at the table as well and while he wished they were all still together, he knew that they were better off with their family. Especially now that he was returning to the pit, Mike was at least glad that none of his friends had to go through that as well.
“Morning, guys,” Joel beamed up at the pair of brothers as they walked up to the table. “You all right?”
“Yeah, you?”
The greetings were pleasant and simple as they always were until Joel & Hazel’s mom left the table, the same routine occurring every morning so the four friends could catch up alone. But this time things couldn’t help feeling different for Mike. He pushed his oatmeal around his bowl unenthusiastically, barely able to bring himself to explain to Joel and Hazel what was happening.
“Are you going to tell them?” Rylan spoke up in the end, fed up with waiting for Mike to speak out. “Or do you want me to?”
“Tell us what?” Hazel asked, noticing already that things seemed different that morning.
Mike paused, receiving expectant looks from everyone around the table. “I’m leaving,” he dropped eventually, knowing it wasn’t up to Rylan to expose the news for him. “I’m going back to the pit.”
“What?”
“No way, man, that’s crazy! Why?”
“My dad needs me to,” Mike explained. “It makes sense. He needs someone on the inside and I’m the best option for the job. I know the place—sort of—and he knows he can trust me.”
“Yeah, but…” Joel argued back, struggling to find the words. “It’s still crazy. Why does anyone have to go back? Isn’t he gathering enough knowledge from the outside?”
“Apparently not,” Mike shrugged. “I’m going back today. Just after lunch.”
“No way,” Hazel sighed, sad to see another one of their group go. Losing Riley had been hard for her, even as she was slowly becoming more integrated with Joel and his friends, the four of them all hanging out together. Now with Mike going, Hazel selfishly worried that that would end and she would be forgotten about. “How long do you think it’ll be for?”
Mike sighed and explained everything to Joel and Hazel just as he had to Rylan earlier, going over the details of how long he would be in there and what information he was supposed to be digging up. It was a sad conversation to have, although by the end of it everyone seemed to understand which at least made Mike feel slightly better. If he had to leave his friends and family behind, then there was some shred of compensation knowing that they were safe, happy, and understood why he was leaving them.
The rest of the morning passed in such a blur for Mike. His father collected him from the cafeteria and drilled him for another hour on what was going to happen and how he needed to act, before handing him off to another person of rank within the faction who had been studying the new layout of the pit. That was thankfully quite useful for Mike, the knowledge of how the pit had been redesigned and laid out giving him an advantage once he was inside. He wasn’t sure how he was going to manage to sneak around unseen and gather information, but it certainly helped for him to already understand the schematics of the place.
“All right son,” Jackson stood in front of Mike as he prepared to leave, Rylan, Joel, and Hazel hovering just behind as the extension of his farewell party. “You remember who your contacts are in there?”
Mike nodded.
“And you know what you’re looking for? And what to do if you find anything?”
Mike nodded again. Jackson had made everything more than clear to him over the last twenty-four hours; it was unlikely he would ever forget what was needed of him.
“Okay then,” Jackson smiled, feeling proud of his son for what Mike was doing for the rebel faction. He hoped that his son knew that, aware that he’d never been very good at showing emotion. That was the area where his wife had excelled, Jackson more comfortable keeping his loved ones at arm’s length. “Good luck out there, Mike. I’ll see you again soon.”
“Thanks,” Mike replied awkwardly, unsure whether to hug his father or not. They were not usually overly affectionate with one another, but in that moment, Mike felt like he needed a real goodbye. Telling himself that he didn’t know when he’d see the old man again, Mike threw caution to the wind and lurched forward, wrapping his arms around his father and hugging him goodbye. After a brief second, Mike felt Jackson’s arms snaking around his body in return and he closed his eyes, basking in the moment before it was gone forever and he was alone in a cold, dark cell again. No less than ten minutes later, he was halfway there.
Houston was scary alone. Mike hadn’t been out into the city since the day everyone had ended up at P. J. Wilson Construction, loading supplies into a truck for Chase and Riley to take back to their farmhouse. Thinking of them again, Mike willed them all to be safe and sound at the farmhouse, the roof fixed up and better than ever from the gear they’d collected. His current predicament was far from that—safe and sound two words no longer fit for Mike’s vocabulary.
The cold front had crept into every corner of the city, accompanying the darkness like a newlywed couple. They were never apart, the icy chill resting on the crevices of every wall or building, the frost unnoticeable until it was too late. Mike wore a remedial breathing mask over his face, aware that the Authority would confiscate it from him as soon as he handed himself over to them. It protected him to an extent from the haze in the air, though the particles which he had become so accustomed to as a result of the ash cloud had lessened, floating higher above his head than he remembered.
As the
effects of the eruption wore on and evolved, the Earth was forced to adapt to them, with its population not far behind. Mike scurried from one alleyway to the next, getting as far from the office facility as possible before turning and starting his route toward the pit. It was all part of the plan, making sure no one could trace him back to the rebel faction. Jackson was fairly certain the Authority knew where they were based, a full-scale upheaval planned for as soon as they found a satisfactory replacement building.
By the time Mike finally got near to the pit and the increased security levels of the Authority, he had been outside walking for almost an hour and his body showed the effects. He was freezing, his teeth chattering together and his skin pale, his breath coming out in gasps even through the mask he wore. Just as his father had planned, he definitely didn’t look like he’d come from a safe and secure rebel environment. Seeing a member of the Authority standing on a street corner up ahead, Mike prepared himself for the next stage of their plan and started to approach.
“Hey, mister,” he called out, coughing at the end of his sentence. “Mister? Are you with those people? The Authority? Can you help me? Please?”
Chapter 7
“You see, my friend,” Vic smiled at Riley, happy to teach the young girl what he knew and impressed by how eager she was to learn. “It’s not that difficult. We’ll have your room back in one piece in no time.”
Riley beamed up at Vic, amazed by the work that had been done already that day. Since returning home both she and Chase had been much more focused on reuniting with their grandparents and seeing that Pop was holding it together than fixing the roof. Now that she was standing in her old room and could see the progress that Vic, Blake, and Leo had already made, she had real hope that everything they had worked for—everything that she and Chase had left the farmhouse in the first place for—would actually be possible.
“Thanks, Vic,” she replied, truly grateful for his help. Riley understood that none of this would be possible without the Ukrainian man, aware of the massive part he played breaking her, Chase, and the others out of the pit as well. “This is amazing.”
“Just doing our job,” Vic grinned. “I think you’ll be back in here within the week.”
Riley squealed and wrapped her arms around Vic’s waist, showing her appreciation for the man and making sure he knew it. It was strange. Her reservations about both Vic and Blake had faded away following the time they had both spent with her family at the farmhouse. The awkward hours of the initial meeting had quickly given way to the evening meal and subsequent days of building after. Riley helped where she could, but admitted she wasn’t much compared to the strength of the four men doing the vast majority of the work. She watched and assisted where possible though, and that was how she had come to change her mind about the two adults.
While they worked, Blake and Vic had shared stories with the others about their lives, enlightening Chase, Riley, Leo, and Linda—when she wasn’t downstairs with Jerry—on how the pair of them had lived before. While Vic’s life was more difficult to understand for most people, it was a story, which Riley admired more than Blake’s chasing fame. The former stuntman she was still slightly reserved about, but Vic had gained a positive place in her estimations.
Riley admired how he had traveled to America to make a better life for himself and saw it as a sort of fairytale how he was forced to do the occasional bad thing for the overall greater good. She saw him as a sort of secret agent in a way; his little store that he spoke of as a treasure trove of secrets and supplies that equipped him for any eventuality. It was almost like his bat cave, a thought that made Riley smile as she kept it to herself.
“Is this right, Vic? Does it look level to you?”
Riley pulled herself out of her daydreaming as her brother drew Vic’s attention away from her, asking some technical question about the support beams they were building into the farmhouse. Despite the couple of days where the Authority had forced her into rebuilding a ruined theater, Riley didn’t really understand any of what the four men were doing and so, as Vic walked over to Chase, she took her cue to leave and snuck out of her old bedroom, heading back downstairs to check in with her grandparents.
Chase saw his sister go out of the corner of his eye and half wished he could join her. Rebuilding the farmhouse was difficult work, work he knew had to be done. Thankfully with the four of them working together, they were managing to make good progress and the roof would likely be fixed in another few days. But it was still hard work, his back aching from lifting and his body protesting from the exerted energy, his fuel supplies already low.
“Looks good to me, my friend,” Vic nodded, assessing the crosshatching Chase had been working on. “It just needs to be a bit wider, I reckon.”
“Oh yeah,” Chase agreed. “It’s not finished yet. I just wanted to make sure I was doing it right.”
“All good with me,” Vic gave his approval. “I’ll leave you to it.”
Receiving the green light for the support that he was building, Chase got back down on his knees and picked up his hammer again. He was working on creating a crosshatched grid of wooden planks, one that was going to be used to provide the framework the tarpaulin could be stretched across. Not only did Chase need to make sure it was large enough, but he also had to make sure it would sit side by side with the one Leo was constructing, their elements integral for the roof being able to hold its shape through any ensuing bad weather.
“Is yours nearly finished, dude?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Leo nodded. “It’s getting too heavy to lug around, that’s for sure.”
“Why don’t you guys go downstairs and get us something to drink?” Blake suggested, overhearing the exchange between the two younger men. “This is sweaty work even in this weather.”
“Yeah, sure,” Chase nodded immediately, thankful for a break. “Good idea.”
Leading Leo out of Riley’s old room, the two friends made their way downstairs into the kitchen in search of refreshments. Blake was right; even though snow now fell heavily outside, they had all worked up quite a sweat with their manual labor. The gear they had brought back from Houston was all top of the line, which meant at times it was heavy and difficult to maneuver. They all knew it was the best they could have hoped for though, so any extra aggravation was worth it to ensure the farmhouse remained standing moving forward.
The weather outside was like the worst winter Chase had ever seen. The dark cloud still owned the sky, bearing down on them like an angry dog gnashing its teeth and sending spittle to rain down upon them. Except instead of spittle, it was heavy snowflakes, some as big as Chase’s fist, that floated down to the ground and coated everything. The only upside was that it covered the dirty gray carpet that had been there before, the fallen ash now hidden underneath a blanket of snow that quickly solidified and turned to ice, the ground beneath it impenetrable.
“Oh, Chase,” Linda called out from the front room as she saw her grandson enter the kitchen, pushing herself to her feet so she could go and talk to him. She was reluctant to leave her husband’s side in his weak state, but as always, she had a more pressing matter to attend to. “There you are. I need your help with something, I’m afraid.”
“Sure,” Chase replied automatically, always ready to help his grandmother out. “What’s up?”
“I can’t get the well pumping,” Linda replied with a shake of her head, a look of worry crossing her face that Chase was unable to miss. “It’s too stiff. I’m worried it’s frozen or something. Do you think you could give it a try?”
“Oh man, that isn’t good.”
“I’m sure it’s just me,” Linda continued, hoping that the only issue was in fact that she wasn’t strong enough anymore. “But would you mind coming and helping with it? We’re running pretty low on water now you lot have all arrived.”
Chase smiled at his grandma, hoping that the well had just turned stiff and there wasn’t any bigger problem with it. “Yeah, no worries
,” he replied confidently. “Leave it to me. You don’t need to come outside again, especially not in this weather.”
“Thank you,” Linda said gratefully. “Is everything going okay upstairs?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Chase nodded. “We’re making good progress.”
“That’s my boy. I honestly don’t know how we survived without you.”
Chase chuckled, brushing off his grandmother’s praise and pouring himself a small glass of water. The woman was right—they were running low on their supply now that five extra mouths had arrived. They hadn’t had any serious discussions about the food levels in the pantry or what would happen when it all ran out. Being miles from the nearest store and even then, uncertain whether it was safe to leave the house left the group of them in a potentially dangerous situation. The last thing Chase wanted was to have to move his family away from the farmhouse in search of somewhere more sustainable, even though he knew it was a very real problem if they didn’t find a solution soon.
“You want me to come out with you?” Leo offered.
“No, it’s okay,” Chase shook his head, certain that Leo would be more help upstairs again. “I doubt it’ll take long. I’ll come back up and join you guys as soon as I can, okay?”
“All right,” Leo shrugged. “Rather you than me out there.”
Chase laughed, trying not to focus on the cold from outside that he could already feel creeping along his skin. Since being back at the farmhouse, he had been making a conscious effort to be more cheerful about everything. He and Riley had made it home. They had tackled the odds and come back victorious, finding their grandparents both still alive and both still surviving. Sure, things didn’t look too good for Pop, but Chase refused to be pessimistic about the situation, knowing that all good things—including people’s lives—had to reach an end eventually. His grandfather had lived a long and happy life. Chase knew that if and when he did pass away, Jerry wouldn’t be leaving the world behind with any regrets.