by Holly Hook
I turned and then Alana screamed.
“The storm!”
I looked where she was facing and saw the wall of moving earth and dust on the other side of town. It was high—easily as high as some mountains, and churning towards us. I’d been right. I hated being realistic.
I stomped on the gas. The on ramp to the expressway was dead ahead. Behind me, headlights turned on as the others followed. Tony drove his truck almost into the back of mine, which only made me go faster and narrowly miss a minivan with its doors thrown open.
“How far away is that?” Alana asked.
I looked again. The wall loomed a bit larger now. “I don’t know,” I said. “A few miles?” The storm had hurricane force winds. It must. That might mean it was moving at about that speed. It would be here in about…God. A few minutes. I went faster, glad that I did have some light to see by. The sign for the expressway emerged from the already-blowing dirt and vanished behind us again.
By time I merged on, the dust wall was so high that I could no longer see the top of it.
We almost went off the ramp, I was going so fast.
Alana and Gina both screamed. I was so focused that I couldn’t. Eventually I merged on and the others followed. The dust storm was so big behind us that I was sure it was going to overtake us, but the freeway was mostly clear of people who had stalled out and pulled off the road. I gunned it again and Alana went quiet. She had almost become a warning signal for danger.
The needle climbed to eighty, then ninety...somewhere near 100 the dash started to shake, even in this newer truck.
"You can let off the gas," Gina shouted.
I refused for the first few seconds, but then I counted to five, took a breath, and realized the wall of dust was getting a bit further away in the mirror. I could see the top again and even it appeared fuzzier in the dimming light--but it still wasn't far enough. I would not end up trapped in the cabin of this truck until the storm ended or until we died. I was already cramped.
"You can let off!" Gina yelled again. "We're going to hit something if you keep driving like this."
And at last, I did.
The truck slowed a bit and Tony's truck joined me in the other lane. Christina was driving with the others right behind us. The dust storm continued to roll and heave, swallowing Twinstown, but it was getting more distant behind us, its features and misshapen faces getting smaller and farther behind. We were outrunning it.
"Sorry," I said.
"Don't be sorry," Gina said. "You're just trying to keep us all alive. I would have done the same thing. Only, I can't with my foot. Wow, I hope we remembered the meds."
"I hope so, too," I said. I couldn't remember who, if anyone, had grabbed them. There was no stopping now.
"They're kicking in," Gina said. "The pain's not throbbing as bad. I'll just keep my foot still. Try not to roll over too many bodies, okay?"
"Most people went into the ditch or off to the side to die," I said.
"Thanks for this conversation," Alana muttered.
"That's Gina's since of humor for you," I said. "Blame her."
And Alana laughed.
It was the first time I'd heard her laugh since this whole thing started. Her moods were coming in waves and calm, in peaks and valleys now. I'd been that way after what happened with Mom. The waves were more frequent right after it happened, but even though they were more spread apart for me after a year, they still came and they were still tall and angry and drowning. Maybe all of us were like this now. A small part of me wanted to laugh, too, even though my realistic part, the one braced for disaster, told me not to give in. I was doing my part and sticking together with everyone, but I couldn't let my guard down. I had to stay strong, so I kept my eyes on the fading road and kept driving. All the blowing dust was clearing now, leaving us a clean view ahead. If you called pulled-over cars and prone bodies off the side of the highway a clean view.
But at least there weren't a lot of them.
A little positive thinking wouldn't hurt, right?
* * * * *
Wrong.
A few hours into the night and after our first rest stop (on a clear part of the road, not an actual rest stop) we came to a place on the highway where a semi had jack-knifed and several stalled cars had helplessly run into it, creating a pileup.
I wasn't sure if we were still in New Mexico or had crossed into Texas. States didn't really exist anymore. But a huge truck filled with grocery store produce stood there with its back end open. Cabbage and zucchinis and other produce lay all over the road. There weren't any police cars around. Of course there wouldn't be any. Their vehicles had stalled out just like everyone else's.
There might be dozens of cars piled up here. Some of the cars had been burned along with their occupants. The smell was one of the worst ones I'd encountered so far, which was saying a lot. I rolled up the truck window and Alana closed all the vents.
"Disgusting," she said, pulling her shirt over her nose.
I let out a breath and counted to ten. There was rotting and burnt food along with the usual.
“There has to be a way around,” Alana said.
The semi was half in the median and the ditch dipped down on both sides so far that the trucks might not be able to get out. A sign nearby told us we were near the exit for the town of Ubly, whatever that was. In short, I didn’t see a way around.
“There has to be a solution here,” I said. “We can backtrack and get off on another exit. Then we can find a way around.” I knew what that meant: getting closer to the dust storm. It could still be creeping up behind us, getting closer and closer every minute. I hadn’t spotted it since the sun set, but the wall had still been behind us with the last of the day’s light. I put the truck in park and rubbed my arms. They were burning from the fresh UV damage, but I knew this would get a lot worse if the dust caught us.
Christina rolled her window down next to me. I did the same, as much as it let in the horrible smell.
“What now?” she asked. I could hear the panic in her voice.
“We don’t know where the storm is,” I said. “There was an exit about twenty miles back. I counted the mile markers. We have to turn around and go for that.”
Right when I said that, another burst of wind ruffled my hair. It was picking up again. The dust storm couldn’t be more than fifty miles behind us if it was still moving this way. Tony pulled up on the other side of me and shrugged. He was freaking out. His face was pale. On the other side of Christina, Jerome fidgeted. We all knew that time was ticking.
I was responsible for making what might be the worst decision of my life.
We could get out and walk around this barricade or we could turn around and head back. Either way, we risked dying to that wall of death. Faster would be better, but it wouldn’t be without pain. Lots of pain. The land outside was an open, flat land, a ballroom of darkness. There was no cover out here. I couldn’t watch Alana’s skin get ripped off, or even any of the others. She’d scream and cry in pain. We all would. It would be a hellish way to go.
But so would being trapped for days in here.
Trucks, then.
“We have to turn back,” I shouted.
Tony nodded. He put the truck in reverse and did a U-turn right in the middle of the expressway.
And we drove back towards the advancing wall. I couldn’t see it, but I knew it was probably out there in the dark. Unless the wind had changed direction, we were heading right towards it.
“Great,” Gina said. “I hope that last bathroom break will be enough to deal with what might happen.”
That wasn’t even the scariest thought.
I’d be in here as we all died. I might watch Alana take her final breaths. She and Gina would go in despair.
I couldn’t do that again. I was sick of watching people die.
I was sick of it being my fault.
So I drove. The terror mounted in my gut as we passed mile marker after mile marker. The win
d seemed to stay the same for the first few miles, and then it started picking up again, to the point where it was trying to blow the truck around.
“We’re getting closer,” Alana said. “Maybe the storm won’t last very long.”
“Or maybe it’ll blow us over,” I said. “Then we’ll be stranded out here.” I passed dead headlights, dead people who no longer had to worry about the coming storm. I knew I’d come across a rolling wall of dust in an instant. There would be a one or two second warning as my headlights fell on it, and then there would be nothing but a slow burial.
“Thanks for the positive vibes,” Gina said.
“You’re welcome,” I said, mainly to hold down my terror. “Alana, start talking. Just talk a whole lot about something.” I was so scared of that dust wall out in the dark that counting the mile markers wasn’t doing me any good. Neither was counting the seconds between my breaths. Oh, god, I did not want to count that. My headlights danced in strange ways on the road. Christina, Jasmine and Jerome followed us as Tony’s headlights wavered a bit. The wind was pushing him around. It was getting stronger. We had been staying just a bit ahead of the main event all this time.
“Laney, something’s weird,” Alana said.
“I know it is,” I told her. Trucks were worse in wind than cars and these trucks weren’t as heavy as the antique we’d driven to that motel. It was probably still there, getting blasted by millennia of sand. It would be something people would dig up centuries later, like the Egyptian tombs. They'd wonder why there were so many dead guys lying around it, one with crushed legs.
"No...the light."
"That's the dust," I said. I hated being so blunt but there was no other way to be right now.
Alana shifted. "It could be, but...Laney, I think there's something flying above us!"
I slammed on the brakes. Tony kept driving into the thickening storm for a second and then he, too, slowed with the angry red glow of taillights. Next to us, Christina and Jasmine and Jerome stopped.
I turned off our headlights.
Alana was right. The light was coming from above, making strange waves through the blowing dust.
All thoughts of the coming storm left me. This was the reason for the flying dust. A helicopter was above us, maybe waiting for us to stop so it could land.
But then another, much bigger thought hit me, one that I had to face.
"What if these people are like David?" I asked.
"It's this or drive right into that storm," Alana said. "It's still coming at us. If it hits, the helicopter will have to leave us and then we're going to die."
She was right. "Out," I said. This might be the most stupid decision of my life. "We can't wait." I threw open the truck door, knowing full well I might have to see Alana die. Turning away might not be an option. No. It wouldn't be an option because she was my best friend.
These people might not give us a choice, but we had nothing else to go on.
I jumped down and squinted.
The lights were bright, like some alien craft hovering overhead. The wind hit me, wind that was just as bad as the stuff in Colton's storm. I backed against the truck, unable to breathe and unable to move as the helicopter descended and landed on the expressway, right between Tony's truck and ours.
"Rescue!" Christina shouted from next to us.
I faced her and my hair blew into my face. "We don't know," I shouted. I trusted no one. I never would again.
I didn't think Christina heard me. The roar of the helicopter was too much. On the other side of it, Dr. Marson got out of Tony's truck and ran for the helicopter, which was opening its double doors. He disappeared behind it and then I saw him climbing in from the other side. It was almost as if he had been waiting for a rescue.
My suspicions were high. Very high.
Alana was already running. "Come on!" she shouted, grabbing my arm. "We're getting out of here."
The helicopter's blades had slowed now, enough so I could run against the wind, as Alana and I ran for it, followed by Christina and Jasmine and Jerome. We all kept in a tight group together. I didn't think any of us knew what was going to happen.
There was a man in a shiny helmet leaning out of the helicopter while another man was gesticulating to the pilot inside. Dr. Marson was already inside the helicopter and Tony and Mina were standing on the other side of it, bracing against the wind like they weren't sure what to do. The man in the helmet yelled something at Dr. Marson and then something to the other guy.
He helped Alana on first, then me, then Christina and Jasmine and Jerome. Gina needed the most help to climb on. Tony and Mina waited on the pavement. The second guy in the black helmet was ignoring them. I ran across the inside of the helicopter, freed from the wind. I pushed Dr. Marson out of the way to do so.
"Come on!" I yelled, even though I knew they couldn't hear me. I waved, and then Tony and Mina moved. Christina and Jerome joined me. The rest of us were on.
And then the helicopter began to rise.
Without them.
Tony and Mina jumped. They grabbed the bars of the helicopter while Christina screamed at the pilot to please not take off yet. The pilot didn't listen and Tony and Mina continued to hang there, grabbing on for dear life, while Jerome and I rushed over. I shoved the second helmeted guy out of the way, leaned down, and reached for Mina.
She screamed and grabbed my arm.
I did, too. I felt like I was going to be dragged out. The expressway got farther and farther away as dust swirled on the ground. The headlights of Tony's truck turned into small beams, then to the lights of a toy. The pilot didn't care that there were still people hanging outside.
"I've got you!" Jerome yelled, wrapping his arms around my middle.
We pulled. Mina rose. She was crying. She tumbled onto the floor of the helicopter as the helmeted guy peeled himself from the wall and stared at the other guy. Alana and Christine and Jasmine were giving a group effort to pull Tony up, but he was managing better than Mina had. He climbed into the helicopter and flopped down onto the floor, making Dr. Marson back out of the way.
He hadn't done a thing to help and Gina noticed.
"Thanks," Gina said to him. "Just thanks for the help. Did you not see my ruined foot? I couldn't do anything."
Panic bloomed inside of me as I did a head count to make sure everyone was here. The inside of the helicopter was crowded and got even worse as the first guy in the helmet--the one who had actually helped us--closed the doors. We were sealed inside. Cramped. Gina held her bandaged foot up, trying to keep the weight off of it as the helicopter kept rising. I had a hard time keeping my footing. The pilot shouted something about the dust. A million grains struck the helicopter all at once and we listed to the side. The storm was here.
"Dr. Marson," the pilot shouted. "Grab onto something!"
They were only talking to him. They'd been expecting him. Dr. Marson shuffled over and grabbed onto a bar that was on the wall. The other two helmeted men did the same, leaving only one bar for someone else. Gina seized that one and the rest of us were left to slide into the closed door of the helicopter.
I didn't know if I was screaming or not. But eventually the helicopter righted as the dust stopped battering us. I fell back onto the floor, landing on Jerome. Dr. Marson had his hand over his mouth. I prayed he wasn't going to throw up. The inside of the helicopter didn't stink and I was already enjoying the break.
He didn't. The wind got calmer and calmer as my stomach dropped. We were rising. Alana caught her breath next to me as I got off Jerome. He grabbed his ribs.
"Sorry," I said, actually meaning it.
In fact, I wanted to talk to him. He knew how people worked. My thing was numbers. His was the inner workings of the brain. Jerome was super interested in psychology and had been ever since trying to work out why his dad mentally abused his mom for so many years. He had figured David out and knew he was dangerous before anyone else did. If it wasn't for him...I didn't want to think about it.
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"Dr. Marson," the pilot shouted from the cockpit. "We are taking you to a secret location. We got your call and came as soon as we could."
"Thank you," he said, ducking his head down like we were all about to throw things at him.
Jerome shot me a look as we got up. There wasn't much standing room for any of us in the small helicopter. These people had come out to rescue one person.
The rest of us had been lucky to get on before they took off.
Only Alana managed to thank the pilot for picking us up. Her thanks was small and weak, like she was scared he was going to turn around and shoot her. I couldn't see a gun on the guy, but he was in military fatigues and another black helmet that was unmarked. Something was very, very wrong here.
"You called these guys?" I asked Dr. Marson. "How?"
He was silent, looking at the floor for a long time.
"My phone," he said at last. "I was underground when the EMP hit, so it didn't get fried."
"True," I said, but Tony was already moving in to take my place as the interrogator.
"Dude," Tony said. "Dr. Shetlin's phone still worked, but she couldn't get any reception when she tried to call out from the facility. Why is your phone so special?" He kept his voice low and dangerous. The other two military guys didn't even hear him. They hung closer to the front. The blades of the helicopter were masking our voices.
"I have a special phone," Dr. Marson said at last.
"A special phone," I said.
"There are shielded cell phone towers out there," he said. "They're on a different frequency than the others, and they're there in case something like wipes out the others. It's so I can communicate with the people on top if I need to."
The more he was talking, the angrier I got. Even Alana had joined me in staring down Dr. Marson. I wanted to slap him over and over for not telling us about this, for not calling to help all of us when we were still trapped in the Visitor Center. He knew a lot more than he was letting on.