Final Days

by Jasper T. Scott

  “It’s tied to a missing persons investigation,” Andrew said.

  “Another one? Or is this also about Professor Hughes?”

  Andrew’s brow furrowed at that. A professor was also missing? Before he could ask about it, a door clicked open, drawing his eyes to the sound. Two people were stepping out into the hall that ran past the front desk to the school’s administrative offices.

  One of them was wearing a tweed jacket, khakis, and brown leather oxfords. The other was a trim, attractive woman with long blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. She was wearing a black pantsuit with a gray mock-neck sweater. Something about the way she moved caught Andrew’s eye: smooth, efficient, and fast, with long, no-nonsense strides. It wasn’t a feminine, hip-swaying walk, that was for sure, and she was wearing black sneakers instead of pumps or heels. All of it added up to the same thing: cop.

  Andrew also noticed that she was carrying a tablet, and a purple folder full of papers under one arm. She appeared to be distracted by a hushed conversation she was having with Mr. Tweed Jacket. Andrew overheard snippets about Professor Hughes’ disappearance, and something about a black Tesla following his car. That caught his attention instantly. The neighbor who’d seen Val and Ana walking together in Malibu had seen a black Tesla coming down the same road only minutes after they’d disappeared.

  This was San Diego, and that was LA, but it couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? Two black Teslas connected with two separate disappearances? More likely it was the same car and the same driver working his way down the coast.

  And who was this woman talking about that car and Professor Hughes? Ten to one she was a detective investigating his disappearance. Andrew’s eyes grazed the purple folder tucked under the woman’s arm. What was in there? Her notes on the investigation? He needed to find out.

  The woman noticed Andrew staring at her, and she pursed her pretty red lips as she frowned. He looked away quickly and flashed his most charming grin at the teary-eyed woman behind the front desk. “Thank you! You’ve been a big help,” he said just before spinning away from the desk. He’d judged the moment perfectly. Andrew slammed straight into the detective, knocking the tablet and the folder out from under her arm.

  “Oh shit, I’m sorry!” he said. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she said in a clipped tone. She began bending to collect her scattered papers.

  But Andrew beat her to it. “Here, let me help you,” he said, grabbing the files and committing each of them to memory as he shuffled them into the purple folder. The papers were all printout stills of a black Tesla sedan. One of them showed a driver in a blue suit with dark glasses; another showed the license plate—6TRJ2... The last two digits were too blurry to make out, but he repeated them over and over in his head so he wouldn’t forget.

  “Here you are,” he said as he straightened and handed the folder and the tablet back to the woman.

  “Thanks,” she replied in the same annoyed tone, and he could tell that it cost a lot for her to say that much. The subtle pinching around her eyes suggested she was also suspicious that maybe he’d bumped into her on purpose. Mr. Tweed had a pinch-eyed look of his own. Andrew needed to distract them, to give them something else to focus on.

  “You know, you could be a little more gracious about it,” he said. “After all, you bumped into me.”

  The woman’s eyes flashed, and she shook her head incredulously. “You’re joking, right?”

  “No... I was simply turning away from the front desk here”—he gestured to it—“and then bam: you barrel right into me and act like it’s all my fault. I mean...” Andrew tried on a smirk for good measure. “That’s pretty rude. Maybe you should be apologizing to me.”

  “I don’t have time for this bullshit,” the woman said, brushing past him.

  “Sir, I think it’s time for you to leave,” Mr. Tweed added.

  “There she goes again! Tell me you saw it that time!” Andrew demanded. He nodded to the woman’s back as she headed for the doors, her ponytail bobbing angrily as she went.

  “Sir...” Tweed said in a warning tone.

  Andrew ignored him and ran after the woman, grabbing her by the shoulder. “Hey! You need to be—”

  She spun out from under his grip and pulled out a badge. “You see that?” she said.

  “Uh yeah...” he trailed off, pretending to be surprised as he studied the badge. Special Agent Kendra Baker. FBI—that was one better than he’d expected. His eyes widened, and this time it wasn’t just for show. Time to drop the act. She might actually be able to help him if he leveled with her.

  “All right, Miss Baker, I’m really sorry, but I’m here from LA looking for my daughter. She went missing, and the last person to see her was a friend of hers. The friend’s brother goes to this school, and it appears that he’s vanished as well. The three of them were supposed to meet up on Sunday, and now no one knows where they are.”

  A slight frown creased Kendra’s lips, and her eyes searched his briefly before she gave in with a sigh and shook her head. “They’re not the only ones missing. There’s been a wave of abductions along the coast. Have you spoken to the police?”

  “Yes. They were worse than useless.”

  “Well, I don’t know what to tell you, other than I’m working on the case. Here—” She walked over to the registrar’s desk and snapped her fingers at the shell-shocked woman sitting there. “Pen, paper!”

  The woman passed those items over and Kendra, in turn, passed them on to Andrew. “Give me your daughter’s name and description, and a number where I can reach you.”

  Andrew obliged, writing down as many details he could think of. He added both his cell number and Selena’s, along with each of their names. “Now what?” he asked as he handed her the piece of paper.

  Kendra slipped it into her folder along with the stills of the Tesla. “Now you go home, or better yet, you evacuate somewhere safe and wait until I call you.”

  Andrew scowled, but said nothing to that.

  “Do you understand me? We don’t need any more loose cannons running around.”

  “Yeah, sure. I get you,” Andrew said, borrowing her clipped tone from before.

  “Good.” Kendra spun away and pushed out through the glass doors on her way to the parking lot.

  Andrew waited a few beats, and then followed her out as casually as he could. Agent Baker had just become his next lead. Hopefully, she would guide him to whoever had taken Val.

  * * *

  Kendra

  Kendra glared in the direction of the university. That man had sent her over the edge. His brusque manners and forceful voice reminded her of too many cops she’d dealt with over the years. She spotted him getting into a black truck, and hoped that was the last she’d see of the guy. She didn’t quite believe his story about the girl, but… there was desperation in his eyes, that much was clear.

  She had other places to visit today, so she made herself dismiss the interaction as she drove away. The radio was on, the soft droning voices threatening to put her to sleep. She turned the knob, hoping for music, but no one was playing that any more these days. It was all doom and gloom. She tapped the volume up, anxious to see what they were rambling on about today.

  “The anti-eruption technology is new, not ready to be used, but we have no choice. I say we head to the lab, grab the damned device, and march it straight to Yellowstone. What do you say, Brian?” The man was clearly the guest, not a practiced radio personality.

  “As much as it pains me to agree with you, Don, I think you might be correct. Projections put us at six days from doomsday. Can you believe it? If everything they’re warning us of comes true, we won’t be around to worry about it soon,” the host, Brian, said to the guest.

  “Then who’s with me? I’ll be leading the charge, traveling to the facility outside Twin Falls. We’ll force them to take action. What can it hurt?” Don asked, his voice nearly frantic.

  Kendra shook her head, imagining
the crazed public tearing down the walls of some insignificant research facility so they could drive to the danger zone of Yellowstone to throw a mythical anti-eruption device into the gaping maw. It was like throwing a virgin into the lava on Hawaii, placating some ancient goddess.

  She changed to another station as she drove, heading south for the naval base. Traffic was dense: people were in terrible moods, honking at each other and yelling threats from their lowered windows. She hated the vibe of the city lately, the tension palpable everywhere she went.

  “The droughts have been going on for months, years, in parts of Africa. Even if disaster doesn’t strike like predicted, half of the continent will be dead in six months, and that number will escalate with the toxic fogs spreading farther with every passing week.

  “Things are dire on this planet, and have been for a long time. We have evidence that similar events have occurred in the past, though it’s not public knowledge. Back then there were very few people, and they didn’t have the technology or reference to understand what was happening. This is a cycle,” a woman said. Her voice was cultured, reminding Kendra of a co-worker that had attended Harvard.

  “And you think this means what? The speculation is real? Will Earth be able to recover?” a man asked.

  A slight pause. “It will recover, yes.”

  “And us?”

  “Time will tell,” she answered. Kendra took that as a no.

  “If this is the end of the world, where are you going, Dr. Fran?” the host asked.

  “I’m at home, with my family.”

  “What can we do?”

  The woman’s voice was strained. “Pray.”

  Kendra tapped the radio off, the hair on her neck standing up at the word.

  Pray.

  Ten

  Kendra

  6 Days Left…

  Traffic was slow-moving as she wound her way to the naval base, but she made it there eventually in the silence of her car. She couldn’t stand to hear the radio any longer; it was only distracting her from the job at hand.

  Kendra arrived at the Navy site, and noticed that much of the stationed Pacific fleet had evacuated from the docking area. Only a handful of aircraft carriers sat alongside a few cruisers now.

  She drove to a building that acted as a gate, and a uniformed officer knocked on her window. She rolled it down and flashed her badge. “I’m here to see Captain Henry Truman.”

  The man eyed her suspiciously. “Do you have an appointment?”

  “Listen, the world’s going to hell, and I’m not here on a social call. Tell him Special Agent Kendra Baker has a few questions about Tess Anderson. I don’t have all day.” Kendra used her no-nonsense voice, and the man’s eyes jumped open at the mention of Tess’ name.

  He nodded, and held up his hand for her to wait while he contacted the captain. Kendra glanced in the rear-view mirror. No other cars were lined up to gain access to the base. She wasn’t surprised to see the parking lot so deserted. That was becoming a common occurrence in town. She wondered how many people had fled the coast by now. It had to be at least half of them, with more pouring away from San Diego with each passing minute. Soon it would be a ghost town. She needed to act fast.

  While Kendra waited, she had the feeling she was in a huge hourglass, the sand dropping from under her feet, until she’d run out of time. Then what? She’d be left at the coast, watching the tidal waves come for her. Her heart hammered in her chest thinking about it. It was difficult to not take the threats seriously, especially after hearing all the professionals discuss the looming disasters over the radio.

  She was convinced that doomsday was upon them. Why should she search for people that would only end up dead in a week’s time anyway?

  Kendra tapped her foot on the brake, and moved the shifter to reverse, but then the naval officer waved her forward, lifting the arm of the blockade.

  She spent half a second making a decision, and imagined her sister’s face the last time she’d seen her. Kendra put the car back in drive, and forced a grim smile for the officer as she drove past him and into the base.

  She drove around a small traffic circle, following the signs to the main office. A quick left, and she veered right on the deserted streets, pulling up facing the brick building. For an operation like this, the entire base felt underwhelming, especially with it being deserted.

  Kendra moved for the doors, and a man was waiting for her inside. He appeared exhausted, with black bags under his eyes and deep lines across his tall forehead.

  “Agent Baker?” he asked, sticking out his hand.

  “Captain Truman, I presume?” she replied, shaking in greeting.

  “What do you expect to find here—” He scanned to her left hand. “Ms. Baker.”

  “What can you tell me about Tess Anderson?” she asked.

  They sat in the foyer, on two hard metal chairs, the kind every building like this had near the entrance. She turned to face him as they talked.

  “Commander Tess Anderson is a fine woman, and a great officer. She ran off a week ago,” he said.

  “Ran off?”

  “I don’t know what else to tell you. We’ve been aware of the coming storms for a long time. We run the largest fleet in this part of the world, and the tectonic plates have been causing trouble for years. Things have been escalating up to this point, and not just in the Pacific Rim, either. Do you think it’s a coincidence we have poles melting, fault lines expanding, hurricanes doubling in size, and seventy percent of the world’s volcanoes threatening to erupt simultaneously?” Truman asked, and he looked as though he’d aged another ten years in the span of his speech.

  “No. I mean, I haven’t thought about it,” Kendra admitted.

  “It’s not. The Earth has forsaken us, and we’re not living through this one.”

  Goosebumps rose on Kendra’s arms, and she crossed them over her chest. “What are we supposed to do?”

  He changed the subject. “Tess ended her shift, and we met briefly to discuss options. She told me she had a brother in Florida. She was going to head there, taking her chances with the hurricanes over the ash clouds that will wreak havoc across our country.”

  “So you think she did that?”

  “Where else would she have gone?” Truman asked.

  “Do you have surveillance here?” It was an obvious question.

  “Why are you here?”

  “Tess’ husband called a missing persons report into the police station, and I’m working on an elaborate case. I think she was abducted, along with some other prominent members of the state of California, and I intend to locate them.” Kendra’s voice was low, and she saw something break in the hard man beside her.

  “Dear Lord. What good is any of this going to do? We’ll all be dead soon enough,” he said.

  “If that’s so, why are you still here?” she asked him.

  Truman leaned over his knees. “My wife left ten years ago. No kids. I figured, what else is a captain good for if he won’t go down with his ship?”

  “Show me the footage,” she told him, and he nodded.

  “This way.”

  Ten minutes later, Kendra found the date she was looking for, cramped in a stuffy room with five monitors and an archaic computer. Truman brought two cups of black coffee in with him, and settled beside her as she scrolled through the cameras.

  “You say she left around seven?” Kendra asked.

  “Yes,” he said.

  She switched the camera, and saw Tess enter into a gray minivan. “There she is.”

  Truman pointed, and Kendra pulled up the feed from the gates, finding what she was waiting for: a black Tesla. Her fingers twitched as she moved to the reverse angle.

  There she found something important: the entire license plate number. She’d asked the local PD to run the partials, but they hadn’t managed to find it yet. Now she had the bastard.

  The feed continued, and she watched as Tess drove away from the base, the black Tesla
following closely behind.

  “Find what you needed?” Truman asked.

  They stood, and the entire room shook, her coffee splattering on the keyboard. Truman looked grim as the shaking settled, and he held her by the arms.

  “Earthquake,” she said, stating the obvious.

  “It’s only the tip of the iceberg,” he told her. “Get out of here. Go find a rock to crawl under. It’s every man and woman for themselves.”

  Kendra freed herself from his grasping hands and left him there, alone.

  * * *

  “Just get me the plates, will you?” she urged Barry at her field office. Her cell phone pressed to her ear as she flipped through her files.

  “Sure thing. It might be a while. There aren’t many of us left, and you should hear some of the things coming down the pipeline,” Barry said in her ear.

  “Barry, don’t mess around. This is important.” She’d already called the local PD, and she was in line there as well. Nothing was being done as pandemonium raged around the coastal city.

  Here at the outskirts of town, she found a sense of peace, almost as if the owner of the café was denying what storms were coming in the next few days. She sat at a table near the window, and watched the waves hitting the rocky coast as dark clouds began to drop angry raindrops.

  Someone opened the door, letting in a gust of wind, and she heard the voice of the man across the street.

  “I looked when He opened the sixth seal, and behold, there was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became like blood. And the stars of heaven fell to the earth, as a fig tree drops its late figs when it is shaken by a mighty wind. Then the sky receded as a scroll when it is rolled up, and every mountain and island was moved out of its place. This is the end of days, people. We have sinned, and the Lord brings his final punishments on us!” The man yelled into a bullhorn, and the door shut, cutting off his further preaching.

  The man who entered hurried to the counter, seizing every water bottle left in the café and organizing them in a pile. He didn’t wait for the barista to help him. He flung a bill onto the floor and scooped up the bottles, dropping two on the way out.