by E S Richards
When breakfast came to an end, everyone realized there was sadly nothing else left to do except say that goodbye, and it forced the Clarkes and the three boys from Philadelphia to conclude the meal with sad expressions on their faces, rather than the full smiles that should’ve been present.
“I guess this is it,” Jadon exhaled not long after, stepping back from Mia after just wrapping his arms around her to say goodbye. “I’m really going to miss you, Mia. You’ve been amazing these past few weeks.”
“I’ll miss you, too,” Mia replied, finding her emotions building up more than she had expected. “All of you,” she added so Marcus and Jesse were included as well. “Make sure you keep cleaning that shoulder regularly if you ever want to get back on the football field!”
Jesse laughed, “I will, don’t worry. Thanks for everything, Mia,” he added, stepping forward and giving her a hug as well. Chase, Riley, and Linda had already said their goodbyes, leaving Mia to have her final farewell in private after the time she had spent alone with the boys. “I’m really pleased you found your family again.”
“Me too,” Mia smiled. “I couldn’t have done it without you, though. I just hope you have as much success when you guys make it home.”
“Me too. Hopefully you weren’t just a lucky charm,” Jesse joked, though there was sincerity in his voice. All three boys were worried about what they would find in Philly, the moment for them to finally step out on their own coming at last. It needed to be done, but Mia had felt like a safety blanket at some point for each of them over the past few weeks. It would be weird to continue the journey without her.
Mia laughed. “I’m sure that’s not the case,” she shook her head. “Come on,” she added to Marcus, holding her arms open and waiting for him to embrace her. “You too.”
Marcus grinned and stepped forward, wrapping his strong arms around Mia and picking her up slightly from the floor with a chuckle. The former scientist squealed and protested, giggling like a child until Marcus set her down. “See you, Mia,” he said softly. “Good luck.”
“You too,” Mia replied quietly, looking up at Marcus and smiling at him like she often looked at Chase and Riley. “I really hope you find Harper. You’re going to be a wonderful father.”
“Thank you,” Marcus replied, his emotions threatening to get the better of him as they all said goodbye. There wasn’t much else to be touched upon now. The boys needed to get going and any longer goodbyes would just be going around in circles. With a few final smiles, Mia watched the three of them jog over to the barn where the Jeep was being kept and disappear inside. She stayed by the window to watch them leave, resting her head against the glass and thinking about everything they had been through—plus everything that was likely still yet to come.
The fact that the three of them were taking the Jeep back to Philly meant that Mia and her family were left without a mode of transport at the farmhouse. There was the old tractor and ATV—the latter also in the barn—but Mia doubted whether either of them was still in working order. As it went, they needed to come to terms with the fact that they weren’t leaving the farmhouse until everything blew over, and Mia knew that could be months or even years away.
She worried about how much food they still had in the house. Thankfully, water hadn’t yet become an issue for them, and it didn’t look like it would with the well still working properly. Still, one day in the future the pantry would become bare and they would be forced to look elsewhere for food. When that day came, Mia had no idea what the best course of action would be, the state of Houston concerning her when it came to leaving the farmhouse.
Everything seemed to circle back to the mysterious Authority, a group she had learned so much more about since reuniting with her niece and nephew and discovering what had happened to them in the city. She was fearful that Marcus and the others would have issues getting out of Texas, and even more so that the Authority would one day extend their reach to the farmhouse. If and when that happened, Mia knew she would have to defend the property with her life and that was something she was more than willing to do.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?”
Linda’s voice resonated softly in Mia’s ear just as the Jeep started to roll out of the barn and into sight. Turning to her mother, Mia looked at her with a pleading expression, showing a moment of weakness that Linda knew had been waiting to come out for several days now.
“I’m scared, Mom,” she whispered. “I’m scared about what’s going to happen to us.”
Linda stood next to her daughter and put a hand around her waist, bringing her closer and resting her head against her shoulder, Mia now several inches taller than her mother. “I know, my love,” she spoke softly, the pair of them watching as the Jeep fully exited the barn and started heading down the long driveway away from the farm. “But whatever happens, we’ll get through it. Remember you told me that? We’re the Clarkes. We can do anything.”
Mia sniffed and pulled her gaze from the disappearing vehicle to her mother for a second, pleased to hear her mother finally sound more confident and not completely consumed by the death of her husband. Jerry would never be forgotten, but it was important that Linda was able to carry on without him. In that one sentence, Mia saw her mother returning to her and knew that they really did stand a chance. Because that was all it took: one chance. They didn’t need to do everything right or win every battle. As long as they kept fighting, then they stood a chance at surviving to the end. There was nothing more powerful than hope and that was what Mia and her mother both clung to as the Jeep disappeared from sight and their family was once again left alone in the farmhouse, hoping to survive.
Chapter 18
Jorge sat on a comfortable couch with a glass of water and a cheese sandwich in front of him. There was no other way of putting it, he was in a weird situation. The people who had kidnapped—or rescued—him from the leader’s hotel had brought him to a completely normal terraced house, complete with patchwork pillows on the couch and a friendly cat that wandered around as it pleased. The three of them all stood in the kitchen with their faces still covered. They weren’t watching Jorge or stopping him from running away anymore, instead just talking quietly amongst themselves until they were ready to explain what was going on. An explanation that Jorge felt was well overdue.
They had broken into his previous prison with such skill and force, the woman in particular commanding the room from the second she had walked inside. All Jorge knew about them was that they wanted information from him about Yellowstone and that they wanted to return their city to how it had been before the eruption. Beyond that he was completely at their mercy, and despite the hospitality and the food that was laid out in front of him, Jorge still didn’t feel at ease with his situation.
“Okay then,” the woman spoke in a slightly louder voice in the kitchen; clapping her hands together and making Jorge look over in her direction. She was staring at the Spaniard now, clearly ready to speak to him and declare their intentions. “Let’s get started.”
Jorge immediately noted that none of the three had removed their masks yet, making it clear they all still had something to hide. “You seem to know so much about me,” he spoke clearly as they walked toward him, refusing to show any fear in his voice. “Can I not even see your faces?”
The three of them paused and looked at each other, uncertain how to react. Taking charge once again, the woman sighed and removed the cotton mask from her face, revealing herself to Jorge. “How does one out of three sound? For now, at least.”
Staring at the woman in front of him, Jorge narrowed his eyes and acknowledged her carefully. There was something about her that was unmistakably familiar, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. He felt like he recognized her or had seen her before somewhere, the answer to his question floating just out of reach in his mind.
“Better than nothing,” he replied simply, still trying to play it cool with the three of them. “Are your names secret too
then? Or am I allowed to know them?”
“You can call me Clover,” the woman replied. “This is Oak and Willow.”
Jorge sighed, hearing the very obvious code names and rolling his eyes discreetly. It was obvious to him that he wasn’t going to get the truth from this woman, nor was he going to learn their real names. It made him doubt the three of them more rather than anything else, suspicious of why they were so secretive about their identities.
“Bueno,” he muttered, “what a pleasure to meet you all.”
“Once again I feel I should apologize for how we brought you here,” Clover started speaking, seating herself in a large armchair while Oak and Willow stood on either side. “You’ll understand our haste was necessary to get you out of Mason’s hotel; that man is going crazy with power and you can never be too careful around him.”
Jorge nodded, agreeing with everything Clover had said so far about the leader, still waiting for Clover to reach her point. There had to be a reason why they’d broken him out of the hotel and that was the snippet of information that Jorge still found himself searching for.
“How are you feeling, Jorge? Are you comfortable here? Have you eaten?”
The last question was delivered ironically, everyone well aware of the untouched cheese sandwich that sat on the coffee table in front of Jorge. He was starving, but reluctant to eat until he trusted the people in front of him more. Clover’s questions might have sounded simple, yet he knew there was a lot riding on how he chose to answer them.
“I’m fine,” he replied bluntly. “Just a little confused about what you want exactly. Why did you break me out of that hotel? What’s your end game?”
Clover laughed, seemingly amused by Jorge’s choice of words. “I think it’s a little early to share our end game,” she answered. “As I said to you before, we want to restore Phoenix to how it was before this tyrant took control. We want things to return to normal, and I suppose where you come in is that we need to know when that will be in terms of the aftereffects of the eruption, so we can make sure our actions line up.”
Jorge listened carefully, trying to soak up every word and read between the lines for any other snippets of information he could decipher from the subtext of what Clover said. One thing was clear to him: she didn’t understand the gravity of the eruption at all. If she was playing a waiting game, she was going to be waiting a long time.
“I’m afraid you might be a bit confused about what has happened here,” Jorge began, choosing his words carefully so he didn’t offend the woman in front of him, but so it was also clear she was wrong. “The effects of this eruption aren’t just going to go away. We’re going to be living through them for years to come. This isn’t something that will just go away overnight.”
Clover looked back over her shoulder at Oak and Willow, both men sort of shrugging and shaking their heads as if to say they didn’t know any better. Jorge wondered again where he recognized Clover from, her facial features so familiar to him he could’ve sworn they’d crossed paths in the past. Perhaps she had a link to the scientific community but had dropped out in some manner, hence why she didn’t understand the full extent of the eruption. Maybe she had been in one of his lectures before, a face within a crowd that had stuck with him for some reason. If she did in fact know him, then that made things even more suspicious, though the woman had shown no indication of being familiar with Jorge so far.
“There has to be some sort of timeline you can put on it,” Clover continued. “When will the temperature stop dropping? When will there be sunlight again? When can we breathe the air without wearing masks?”
Jorge shook his head, realizing that of course the vast majority of people were still clueless about what was happening. He was one of the lucky ones; he had been right at the source of the incident and he was equipped with the knowledge to survive it. Everyone else had been without any news or information source since that day. They had been fighting blind against an adversary they knew nothing about, just hoping that one day it would go away and they could have their lives back.
“I’ll make you a deal,” Jorge proposed, seeing how much these people truly needed his knowledge and not willing to give it up for nothing like he foolishly had done with Mason. This time he was going to be smart about it and make sure he didn’t end up locked up in a room. “I’ll explain everything that’s happened to you and how much longer the effects of Yellowstone are going to be present. I know a lot more than just the science. I know exactly what caused it as well, and I know where the literal finger of blame can be pointed.” He looked up at Clover and the two men, seeing them nodding along and appearing to be on his side for the time being. “But,” he punctuated his sentence carefully, “in return I want you to tell me exactly what is going on here—how Mason managed to rise to power and exactly what your plans are for overthrowing him. You ask a question, and then I ask a question. Equal partners. Deal?”
There was silence in the terraced house for a moment, Clover and the two men staring at Jorge with surprised expressions on their faces. It was clear none of them had expected the Spaniard to barter so well with them, Clover accidentally letting on how important his knowledge was to them. That had been her first mistake, and Jorge was certain that if he asked the right questions, she would make more.
“Okay,” Clover eventually replied, reluctance thick in her tone. “Fine. We go first, though. Tell us what caused all of this. You just said you know more than the science. What is more? What caused Yellowstone to erupt?”
“Fracking,” Jorge replied matter-of-factly, enjoying the expression Clover wore on her face as he explained the truth to her. He left out names and places, simply telling her and the two silent men behind her about the fracking site he had been to and what had been uncovered there. He explained the science behind it all, making it absolutely clear that the disaster could have been avoided.
By the time he was finished, Clover’s jaw was practically on the floor and one of the men—Willow, Jorge thought—had slumped down on the arm of the chair. It didn’t take a genius to see they hadn’t been expecting that, Jorge finding a fair amount of pleasure in their reactions, pleased to finally see people responding to the news as he had expected.
“My turn,” he continued, taking advantage of the stunned silence and swooping in with his own question before Clover had a chance to follow up. “Where do I know you from? You look so familiar. Have we met before?”
Clover was shocked again; the question Jorge had asked her was obviously far from what she had been expecting. Jorge himself wasn’t even totally sure where it had come from, but it was the sort of thing that he knew would annoy him for days on end if he didn’t get to the bottom of it. Clover was so familiar, and he just needed to know where from. It might shed some light on what she and the others were doing in the city as well, and if it didn’t, Jorge figured he still had a lot of time to ask questions. No one looked like they were in a rush to leave the terraced house any time soon.
“We haven’t met, no,” Clover shook her head. “I understand that you might find me familiar. My real name is obviously not Clover. I was an actress in my younger days before all of this happened. You probably recognize me from The Generation series.”
Jorge slapped a palm against his forehead, Clover’s face finally falling into place in his mind. She was Felicity Dover, the award-winning actress who had played the part of Zahyra in the hit dystopian film franchise. She had been the most famous teenage actor of her generation, making millions of dollars practically overnight and then retiring from the profession to become more of a humanitarian and environmentalist. Looking beyond her to the hidden faces of Oak and Willow, Jorge wondered whether they too were celebrities, more questions quickly bubbling up inside of him and each vying with the other to be asked next.
“I hope your next request isn’t going to be for an autograph,” Clover—or maybe Jorge ought to refer to her as Felicity now—teased, letting out a faint laugh that for some reason
, made Jorge feel more at ease.
“No,” he smiled in return, “I won’t, I promise. Go on, then. What else would you like to know?”
The conversation between the two of them became much more amicable after that, Felicity’s celebrity status no longer relevant in a world without movies or televisions, but making Jorge feel like he was talking to someone he knew, rather than a complete stranger who had charged into his hotel room with a mask over their face. He answered her next question as clearly and plainly as possible, explaining how it would be many years before the world returned to how it had been before Yellowstone erupted. He spelled out the results of the ash cloud and how the sun would be blocked out and the temperatures forced to drop following the particles given off in the eruption. He told them that to survive they would have to adapt; there was no point waiting around for things to change in their favor. From now on life was going to be an uphill battle for everyone involved. The planet had finally bitten back, and it had done so with a vengeance.
Following Jorge dropping that bomb on Felicity, he learned more about what exactly she was doing in the city and whom she was working with. To his surprise, Jorge uncovered what appeared to be a network of influential and powerful people working together in secret to try and learn what they could about the eruption and put things back to normal. It was comprised of former celebrities, politicians, government officials, and all-round do-gooders who had found themselves up in arms against Mason and other people in his group, an organization called the Authority.
For every piece of information that Jorge shared with Felicity Dover, he received something insightful back and by the end of the discussions they were communicating like equals, not like a former prisoner and vigilante. Oak and Willow eventually removed their masks to reveal the city’s mayor and a local weatherman. Finally, after hours of awkwardness and uncertainty, the four of them spoke openly and tried to figure out what they were going to do about the city and how they were going to survive the coming weeks, months, and years.