by E S Richards
Staring out of the window of his hotel room turned prison cell, Jorge looked down on the city of Phoenix and analyzed the effects of the eruption. Countless buildings had crumbled to the ground as a result of the density of the ash that had settled on their roofs. Anything that wasn’t structurally sound before the eruption had been damaged in some way, whether it was just a wall giving way or the whole roof falling in on itself.
Many buildings that hadn’t been destroyed due to the ash had suffered from fire damage instead. With the cloud shorting electrical grids across the country, flash fires had started up in homes and workplaces throughout Phoenix, the layout of the city allowing the fire to jump from street to street with relative ease. There was one corner of the city Jorge could see from his window that was entirely destroyed. Every single building within about twenty blocks lay in ruins on the ground. The cause of it wasn’t clear, but on such a large scale like that, Jorge could only assume fire.
It was incredible to see how the leader had managed to bring the remaining residents of Phoenix together and start to rebuild their home so quickly. In the streets below, people walked calmly and slowly to their daily tasks, a high percentage of them clearly working and earning a living so soon after everything had descended into chaos.
The jobs were naturally different, Jorge having noticed a few of them during his time at ground level. People bartered with food, water, and building supplies for things they needed, and instead of working in cubicles and behind desks, people sold their time helping fix up the streets or picking through ruined buildings for useful supplies or precious artifacts. Phoenix had rolled with the punches like it was just another day, the people adapting to this new way of life and settling into it almost like their lives hadn’t been completely destroyed.
Jorge watched them now, through the haze that the ash cloud had left in the air; a haze that the volcanologist knew would be there for many months to come. The fact that it hadn’t thinned at all yet meant that it was bad. Jorge could feel the temperature dropping day by day and he understood that a very long, dark winter was coming.
Certain scientists Jorge was aware of had been waiting for a volcano to erupt, hoping to use the sulfur aerosols emitted by it to cool the climate as they reflected sunlight back into the atmosphere and create a natural solution to the global warming crisis. He almost laughed knowing that they had gotten their wish, but on a much grander scale. The climate was cooling rapidly due to what Yellowstone had emitted and it would likely be years before the planet was able to reverse that chemical imbalance and return to a habitable environment. Life on Earth was going to get a whole lot worse before it started to get better again.
And yet, Phoenix appeared to be thriving. Out of the quite literal ashes, the city was being reborn in the leader’s vision. How Mason was doing it was a mystery to Jorge, one he was almost more desperate to solve than the reason that had led him there.
“Hey!” Jorge shouted, banging his fists on the door of his room and rattling the handle. “Let me out of here. You can’t do this to me!”
“Quiet!” a voiced barked back from the other side, at least making Jorge aware that he hadn’t been completely abandoned. “The leader is about to make his announcement.”
“What?” Muttering to himself, Jorge furrowed his brow at what the voice outside of his door had just said. He didn’t understand how things were run in the city at all, each discovery only leaving him with more questions than it answered. As he was about to open his mouth to shout back, a sort of hush seemed to fall over the city. Even from inside his room, Jorge could feel the atmosphere changing, like something had silenced everyone in the street below and captured their attention entirely.
Walking back over to the window, he saw exactly that. In the streets below, people had stopped what they were doing and stood motionless, staring off into the distance and watching something that Jorge himself couldn’t see. He twisted around trying to get a better angle, pressing his face up against the window and yearning to be able to see around the corner, finding it was hopeless. Forced to simply watch others react to it, Jorge tried to guess at what the leader was saying. What was his big announcement and more importantly, how would it affect him?
A thud followed by the jangle of his door handle immediately pulled Jorge’s attention away from the frozen people outside and into focus again. In the silence that had swallowed Phoenix, the sound of someone trying to break into his room was deafening. Jorge didn’t know what to do. Five minutes ago, he had been pounding on the door to get out himself, and now the last thing he wanted was for it to open, fear gripping his heart as he questioned who would be on the other side of it. As the wooden structure swung open and revealed three masked figures, it was like his worst nightmares all came true at once.
“Are you the guy with the information? The one who knows how all of this started?”
Jorge froze up, words unable to form in his throat as one of the masked figures questioned him while inches away from his face. Another of the figures dashed over to the window, glancing outside at the street below while the third dragged an unconscious body in from the hallway, presumably the man that Jorge had spoken to minutes earlier.
“The announcement is still going on,” the figure from the window declared. “There can’t be long left, though. We need to get moving.”
“Answer me,” the first figure spoke again, Jorge concentrating on it enough now to discern that a woman was speaking to him from behind the cotton balaclava that covered her face and kept her identity secret. “Are you the one who came here from Yellowstone? The one who knows how this all began?”
Petrified of making the wrong decision, Jorge didn’t know how to reply. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing other than a strangled gargling sound came out, his words lost as he quickly tried to figure out if the three masked figures were friends or foes. They knew why he had traveled to Phoenix, but that didn’t necessarily mean they were on his side. They were breaking him out of his prison. How could Jorge know whether that was to free him or simply lock him up somewhere else? The seconds dragged at a snail’s pace, the Spaniard unable to decide.
“Time’s up,” the figure from the window—this one male—spoke again. “It’s finishing. We need to move now.”
“Last chance, buddy. Are you the guy from Yellowstone? Are you coming with us or should we lock you back up in this room to rot?”
Swallowing in an attempt to lessen his fear, Jorge finally managed to nod in response. “Yes,” he croaked out. “I’ve come from Yellowstone. Who are you?”
“Bingo,” the woman called out. “That’s good enough for me. Let’s go.”
The three masked figures made a beeline for the door of the hotel room, one of them checking the corridor carefully before stepping out into it, a gun pointed ahead of them. Jorge paused for a second before forcing himself forward. This was at least a way out; an escape. He didn’t know who these people were, but he knew he would be a fool if he didn’t follow them and get out of the building. Once outside he could try and get away from them as well. For now, he needed them. For now, he needed to make it out alive.
“Come on,” another of the masked figures—either the man who had been by the window or the one who had dragged the body in from the corridor—called after him. “Get a move on.”
Increasing his speed to a jog, Jorge did what he was told. The four of them ran down the corridors in a precise manner, turning in certain places and clearly making their way out via a previously determined route. They didn’t run into anyone else as they moved, despite stopping before every bend and checking what lay ahead. It was smooth sailing. A perfect rescue attempt, though Jorge still worried about why. Who were these masked people and how did they know about him? He felt far from safe within their company, the need to escape still paramount in his mind.
“Whoa there! No you don’t!”
As the four of them burst out of a side door and into the street that ran along the back of the hot
el, Jorge saw his chance and tried to make a run for it, lurching forward in an attempt to get away. But one of the men grabbed him immediately, stopping him before he’d even gained a meter on them. The grip around his forearm was tight and unyielding, making Jorge well aware that he was not getting away that easily.
“Nice try, friend,” the woman spoke again, shaking her masked face at Jorge. “We need you. You’re coming with us now.”
“Where are you taking me?” Jorge cried out, starting to panic as he was steered farther down the small backstreet and into the gloom of the ash cloud. “Who are you?” He coughed and spluttered, trying not to breathe in the toxic air and yet at the same time, trying to call out for help. Should he draw attention to himself? All logic vanished from Jorge’s mind and he started to struggle, kicking and flailing around until both men were forced to grab him from either side, restricting his movements completely and trapping him between their large bodies.
“I’d give that a rest if I were you, buddy,” the woman continued. “We don’t want to hurt you, but we will if you keep causing trouble. Just come with us quietly and we’ll explain everything. We’re on your side. All we want is our city back and to bring justice to the people who caused this madness. Now, are you with us or are we going to have to kick things up a gear?”
Jorge stopped struggling, listening to what the woman was saying. He didn’t like her tone of voice or the way she conducted her business, but he was intrigued by what she was saying. More importantly than that, it didn’t look like he had much of a choice. He didn’t like the idea of being knocked out by one of the masked men and he didn’t stand a chance at getting away from them. Like it or not, Jorge was going with the masked figures, hoping that he didn’t end up somewhere worse than the last time.
Chapter 10
“No way,” Jerry smiled at his granddaughter, his voice wheezing somewhat as he spoke but feeling determined to join in with the conversation. The return of Chase and Riley had filled him with hope, and he refused to let any of his pain be shown to his grandchildren.
“Yeah,” Riley nodded enthusiastically in response, excited to tell her grandparents about everything she and Chase had done while away from the farmhouse. “The Authority had no idea what we were doing. We had almost planned the escape ourselves before Mike’s dad broke us all out.”
“Mike was one of your friends in there, right?” Linda asked, doing her best to keep up with all the information being shared. She was finally ready to hear about what her grandchildren had been through, but she had not expected the tale to be so filled with drama and interchanging characters. She was both impressed and frightened by the things she was hearing, learning that both Chase and Riley had grown up a lot more than she gave them credit for.
Chase picked up the tale, answering his grandmother’s question. “Yeah, he was in the pit with us”—he gestured to Leo at his side— “and Joel. His dad is the guy who set up the rebel faction that broke us out; the one that Vic and Blake were a part of.”
“Well, not from the start,” Blake cut in, trying to make himself and Vic sound less like a pair of radicals and more like two guys who just wanted to do what was right for their city. “We were camped in Vic’s store for a couple days, then went out and discovered what was happening to you kids—though not to the extent we found out later. Jackson accosted us in the street one day, and that’s how we became a part of his group.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Chase shrugged, not feeling like Blake’s input was relevant to the story and letting his excitement get the better of him as he recalled the story. “They took over this massive building in the city and brought us all back there when they broke us out of the pit. It was incredible,” he sighed. “I can’t believe how well it all happened.”
“And Mike’s still there?” Linda asked, making sure she was keeping track of everyone’s names. “And Joel?”
“And Hazel,” Riley interrupted, wanting to remain involved in the storytelling. “She was my friend and Joel’s little sister. They stayed behind with their mom.”
“Sounds like you had quite the gang,” Jerry grinned, nudging Riley on the shoulder and winking playfully at her.
“Aha, it wasn’t like that, Pop,” Riley giggled in reply. “Hazel was fun though. I liked her.”
“I’m sure she misses you, sweetheart,” Jerry smiled, fighting through the tightness in his chest that he felt as he spoke. It brought him such immense happiness to hear his granddaughter’s laugh again; it was a sound that he had thought was gone from his life forever. “I bet you were a great friend to her.”
“Thanks, Pop,” Riley smiled, feeling her cheeks flush slightly at the compliment as she shuffled backwards along the carpet, moving closer to her grandfather.
“So, what happened next?” Linda asked, looking to each person in turn as she wondered who was going to continue. “What does this Jackson plan to do about the Authority? It sounds like they need to be stopped.”
“They do,” Blake answered in a serious tone. “In all honesty, we are worried about how far their reach is. I thought we might bump into some of them on the journey out of the city, but it looks like they’re confined to Houston for the time being, which is good. With the full strength of our faction I think we can defeat them. People should be allowed to live how they want; it’s just plain wrong for some totalitarian party to try and gain control.”
“Are you planning on going back, then? To help them?”
Blake nodded, maintaining eye contact with Linda as he replied to show his honesty and sincerity. “Yes. Once we’ve got your roof fixed up, we need to return to the city. We’re needed there, and we have to defend our home.”
“And I need to make sure my store is still there, too,” Vic added with a slight smile, the Ukrainian man not much for serious conversations.
“That makes sense,” Linda replied with a nod. “I appreciate you sticking around to help with the roof. You have no idea how much we’ve needed that done.”
“Yes,” Jerry coughed, “thank you. It means—” the remainder of the old man’s sentence was stolen from him as hacking coughs ripped through his body and exploded from his mouth.
Riley jumped forward, feeling her grandfather’s body shudder and shake behind her. “Pop! Are you okay?”
Jerry tried to wave her away, embarrassed that another of his coughing fits had befallen him at such a time. He tried to breathe deeply and fight his way through it as he had learned to do, but the tightness in his chest only increased the more he tried. Trying to push himself up into a more upright position, Jerry continued to cough as he struggled to clear his airways, something feeling different from how it usually did. It didn’t feel right.
“Jerry!” Linda moved over to her husband’s side and hovered over him frantically, Riley moving out of the way and getting to her feet as she—like everyone—watched her grandfather fighting for breath.
“What can we do?” Chase asked nervously, his eyes darting quickly between Jerry and Linda, waiting for his grandma to come up with a solution and for Pop to calm down.
“Jerry, come on,” Linda coaxed her husband. “You can do this. Breathe slowly. In and out, that’s it, my love.”
Jerry could hear everyone’s voices in his ears as he tried to do what they said, desperately trying to pull oxygen back into his lungs and hold it there. Unfortunately, it wasn’t working. His vision began to blur, and his gulps of air became more and more frantic, staccato gasps puncturing the room as everyone watched and waited. Jerry couldn’t do it. He could feel the end coming. He wasn’t strong enough to hold on any longer.
Time seemed to stand still for Linda. She was unable to tear her eyes away from her husband, watching as the love of her life slowly suffocated, his lungs failing and his heart slowing to a standstill. A high-pitched buzzing rang in her ears, immersing her in some sort of trance as she watched the life fade from Jerry’s eyes and her husband’s soul drift away. Vic and Blake rushed over, lifting Jerry’s body from
the couch and onto the carpet, where they quickly began trying to revive him with chest compressions and rescue breaths. It was no use. Linda’s husband was dead, and there was no bringing him back.
Everything moved in slow motion for Linda then. She didn’t know how to react, her eyes transfixed by her husband’s body lying motionless on the floor. She couldn’t hear anything except her own heartbeat in her ears, pounding like a drum that shook her body with every stroke.
Out of the corner of her eye, Linda saw Riley throw back her head and cry, lurching forward to her grandfather’s body and curling over it, refusing to believe what had happened. Linda wanted to go to her granddaughter, but she couldn’t move. She was frozen. Unable to react to what had just happened.
Chase also felt numb. He looked from his grandfather’s body, to Riley lying on top of it and Linda standing motionless, her eyes glazed over like a ghost. What was he supposed to do now? How was he supposed to react? He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out, just a croaking noise and a slow exhalation of breath.
“Come on, my friend,” Vic spoke softly to Chase, seeing the shock on the teenager’s face and understanding that none of the family knew how to react. Riley was wailing loudly, screaming and crying as she begged some unknown power to bring her grandfather back. Linda still hadn’t moved. “You don’t need to see this.”