“That’s it? We just wait?” Tara rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.
“For now,” I said, fixing her with my stare. “It’s almost four in the morning and it’s not safe to travel, so for now, yeah, we wait. I suggest we all grab a bite, get some rest, and we’ll see how things look in the morning.”
The group slowly disbursed, raided the blue recycling bin for their choice of junk food and sodas and lumbered to the spaces they had claimed for themselves to settle in for the night. I knew they were all worried about their families, but there was nothing we could do about any of that right now. Once again, Tara stepped in front of me, cutting me off as I reached for a bottle of water.
“That’s your big plan?” Tara asked, spite dripping from every word. “You want us to eat a candy bar and take a nap? You have got to be kidding!”
“Okay, seriously, Tara,” I said, exasperated. My head was pounding and I was exhausted. “You don’t like me, I get it. We all get it. But, give me a damn break, okay? I am doing the best I can here.”
“This isn’t some stupid track meet, Liv. I hate to break it to you, but maybe your best just isn’t good enough, anymore.” Her hair swung in a blond arc over her shoulder as she turned on her heel and stomped off.
“Don’t listen to her,” Jake said around a mouthful of chips. He was sitting on the floor near the supplies, still hunched over that computer. “She probably thinks this is the freaking rapture and she’s pissed off because God hasn’t beamed her up yet, or whatever.”
“Maybe,” I said, laughing weakly as I rubbed the back of my neck. The dull throb in my head had grown to a steady ache. The pressure behind my eyes was almost too much to bear.
“I’m sorry, but if this is all part of God’s plan, then the guy is a dick. Seriously. He could flip the switch on all this fire and brimstone crap any time. Or at the very least, give me a couple bars for shit sakes!” He yelled up at the ceiling, waving his phone over his head.
“Agreed,” I said, smiling.
“I mean, point taken, right?” Jake smirked. “Whatever, I’m sure I’m going to hell anyways, so what do I care?”
“Save me a seat if you get there first,” I said, sliding my phone out of my pocket as I walked away.
No one had been able to get a signal on their phones for hours, and as hard as Jake had tried, he made no headway with the laptop. The only thing he could access was the killshot news loop. He turned the volume down so we didn’t have to listen to it anymore and parked himself in front of the screen, just in case something changed.
I grabbed a few granola bars, shoved them in my back pocket, and snagged a bag of cool ranch Doritos for Riley. They were her favorite and, though I personally could not stand them, I hoped they would help cheer her up. She had not said more than a few words to anyone since the loop had begun a few hours ago.
Micah had cleared a spot for them against the mirrored wall and tossed down a few of the yoga mats for them to sit on. He was slumped at her side, his hand resting gently on her lower back, looking helpless. Riley was biting her nails, hard lines etched across her forehead. I approached slowly and smiled at Micah, who seemed momentarily relieved to have back up.
“Hey, Ry,” I said softly. “You okay?”
She answered much too quickly, her speech rushed and manic as she forced a smile onto her face. “Oh, me? I am just fantastic, best day of my life, actually.”
“Riley,” I said, lowering myself to my knees in front of her. “Talk to me.”
“I don’t understand any of this Liv. I mean, how did I miss it? I knew what had happened in 1859, but I never thought—” Her eyes shot wide. “Oh my god. It’s my fault.”
“Riley, no,” I said.
“But it is, though,” she sobbed, her hand covering her mouth. “I set this whole stupid thing up, Liv. Sara and Blake are dead because of me.”
“Riley, no. You can’t—” I argued, but she cut me off.
“I am the reason they were here,” Riley said, tears running down her face. “I am the reason everyone was here tonight. I practically held you at gunpoint to get you here, Liv. I am so sorry. If I hadn’t—”
“Riley, Stop!” I grabbed her wrists and pinned them against her lap. “This is not your fault, do you hear me? There is no way you could have known any of this would happen. This is something that happened to you, not something you did.”
She launched herself the short distance between us and hugged me tightly around my neck. Her tears flowed freely, sending streaks of black mascara down her cheeks. I didn’t say a word. I held my best friend as she cried and did not let go until she had nothing left. Finally, she sagged against me and let her arms drop. She took a deep breath and sat back against Micah, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.
“I am a hot mess,” she joked, smiled weakly through a tear-stained face.
“No more than usual,” I nudged her, dropped the chips in her lap, and she smiled. “Try to get some rest, Ry, okay?”
“’Kay,” she said, sounding exhausted. “By the way, in case you are wondering, Zander is over there helping Jake with the laptop.”
I laughed, grateful to see a tiny glint of my Riley there. After another quick hug, she and Micah retreated to their yoga mats and curled up on their sides with their backs to the room. Micah reached draped a clean towel across their hips like a blanket, but the gesture was seeking security rather than warmth, which we had plenty of.
It was easily ninety-five degrees in that basement so I was glad I had chosen my trusty racer-back and holey jeans today. Thanks to the overhead water pipes, the humidity had become thick enough to suffocate. The air was unnaturally still, leaving nowhere hide from the relentless grasp of the stagnant heat. I swiped at the sweat on my brow, though it made little difference.
This had been one of the longest days of my life and I was so tired, it hurt to move. Every muscle screamed at me as the last of the adrenaline drained slowly from my body. I had gotten maybe ninety minutes of fitful sleep the night before, so my throbbing head was also buzzing from exhaustion now. I was dehydrated and I knew I needed to rest, but my nerves were still too raw to consider closing my eyes. I grabbed a bottle of water and walked toward the glow of the old laptop.
“Anything?” I asked the guys as I took a swig from the bottle.
“Nope.” Zander shook his head.
“Old-ass laptop,” Jake muttered, not even pausing to look up at me.
“It’s just the same thing, over and over. We tried re-routing the signal and tapping into neighboring Wi-Fi networks, but—” Zander trailed off, looking down at the computer as Jake clicked away.
“I figured as much,” I said, absently rubbing at my temples. “Maybe we’ll have better luck in the morning.”
“Maybe,” Zander said. Sweat dripped to the floor as he rose to his feet. “Liv, are you okay? You don’t look so hot.”
“Eh, I’m fine,” I shrugged, staring down at the monstrous bandage on his arm. “What about you? How’s the hand?”
“Much better,” he said, flourishing the lumpy beige wrap as if it were a shiny new sword. It stretched from the middle of his fingers to his elbow, but even through the thick wrapping, I could tell his hand was pretty swollen.
“Zander?” I said, crossing my arms in disbelief.
“Scouts honor,” he said, attempting the Boy Scout salute with his gimpy hand. “It hardly hurts at all anymore.”
“Maybe, but it looks ridiculous,” I laughed, rolling my eyes as he tried to give me a thumbs up.
“I think it makes me look tough,” he chuckled as he grabbed my hand and led me over to the last empty corner in the room. “Where did you learn how to do that, anyway?”
“My dad,” I said, suddenly fascinated by the tube of antibiotic ointment I had apparently shoved back into my pocket at some point. I hadn’t really talked about my parents to anyone but Riley since it happened and even then it was vague generalities. It felt weird just saying
the word dad out loud.
“Cool,” Zander said, patting the mat to indicate I should sit. “So, your dad, is he like a cop or a doctor, or something?”
“No, nothing like that,” I laughed, sitting down next to him. “He was just really into that survivalist stuff. Every couple of weeks each summer, he would take us on these primitive camping trips. He’d pack us all up head out into the sticks; rough-its, he called them. So, one weekend, we’d find ourselves in Wisconsin, the next it’d be the Ozarks,” I waved my hand.
I shook my head, remembering how often I had complained about those trips. At the time, I didn’t really appreciate how involved my parents had always been. I often felt smothered by their attention and felt I lacked the same freedoms that most of my friends had.
Despite my resistance, my mom and dad were always there for me. No matter what they had going on, they made sure at least one of them was present at every track meet, school play, or PTO fund raiser. They always made sure I knew I was loved, even if I was not very deserving of it at times. I suppose, like most kids, I took for granted that there would always be a next time—that they would always be around.
“Sounds like fun,” Zander smiled, his shoulder brushing against mine as he turned to face me.
“It was,” I said, smiling past the lump in my throat. “You know, I used to think my dad was crazy with all that survivalist stuff. I mean, he worked in a cubicle for Christ’s sake, the whole button down shirt and khakis nine-to-five thing. Not exactly Special Forces, you know? On the weekends, though, my dad went from Ken doll to G.I Joe.”
“Nice,” Zander said. “So, the whole family would just disappear for a weekend and go off the grid?”
“Oh yeah. No GPS, no cell phones, no cheating, he would say. He wanted us to be able to fend for ourselves,” I said. “Guess both our dads knew something we didn’t.”
“Guess so,” Zander said, laughing half-heartedly.
“He was a good teacher,” I said, thinking out loud.
“Was?” Zander’s tone was curious not probing.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice sounding hollow. “I—I lost him a few months ago. Both of my parents, actually.”
“Jesus, Liv, I’m sorry—” Zander’s face twisted. He reached for my hand and, to my own surprise, I didn’t pull away. The look in his eyes was more understanding than it was pity and it spurred me on.
“It’s okay,” I shrugged again, taking a moment to gather myself. “I mean, it’s not really okay. It’s just…it’s not like I can do anything about it, is all. For a while, I expected to wake up one day, and it would all be some horrible dream, but—”
“Yeah, I get that,” he said.
“The worst part is I keep reliving the whole thing, over and over in my head. I had a fight with my parents the night they died. It was so stupid, some pointless argument about a boy. My dad was harping on me about keeping promises and being responsible.” I threw the tube down on the mat and raked my sweaty hair away from my face. “They tried to talk to me, to make me understand, but I ignored them, Zander. I was so pissed off at my dad. And my mom, too, for always taking his side. I was just being stubborn.”
Zander didn’t say a word, but his eyes were focused intently as I spoke of my demons. I rested my head in the crook of my elbow, not able to look him in the eye as I spoke.
“I wish I could erase the last words I said to them,” I said as I buried my face. “I could have I love you, see you later, or even goodnight…but, no. The last thing I ever said to my parents before they died was this is bullshit. That was my goodbye.”
That secret had been eating away at me for months. I had never said those words out loud before, not even to myself, but it was like my body could not hold onto it anymore. I sagged into the mats, suddenly very tired, and slid across until my bare back met the wall.
We sat there for what seemed like hours, saying nothing. Zander slowly stroked the pad of his thumb back and forth across my knuckles. I stared at our joined hands, hypnotized by his rhythmic caress. My stomach was doing flips again and I was not sure if it was the temperature or our proximity that had me sweating.
“We need to get some rest, Zan,” I said, struggling to my feet. When he didn’t release my hand, I turned back with a questioning glance.
“I like that.” He looked up at me with the smirk that made my stomach do funny things.
“Huh?” I was completely lost, now, and was he blushing?
“You called me Zan,” he said, sliding his hair behind his ear.
“I—” I froze, feeling my face heat.
“Nobody has ever called me that before. My dad always called me Alexander. My mom, mostly out of spite I imagine, called me Alex. Pretty much everyone else calls me Zander or Z, even, but never Zan.” He took a step closer to, released my hand, and slid his to my waist. “I really like it.”
Now I was blushing.
Chapter 13
Battle Lines
I awoke a few hours later, curled up on the floor, with my dad’s old hoodie wadded beneath my neck. My bones ached and my muscles were angry, but nothing compared to the pounding in my head. Riley and Micah were sound asleep a few feet away. I bit my lip, stifling a groan so I wouldn’t wake them. I slowly wrestled myself into a seated position and fought the dizziness that threatened to overtake me. After a few moments when the room finally stopped spinning backward, I slowly rose to my feet.
Zander had fallen asleep within arm’s reach and was snoring softly. His back was against the wall. His long legs were stretched out in front of him, his feet crossed at the ankles. His head hung at an odd angle against his chest. I was tempted to wake him, but decided against it. If he was going to heal, he would need to rest and in his condition, it was far better to be sore than sleep deprived. I smiled down at him and resisted the urge to brush his hair away from his face as I stuffed my hoodie into my bag.
I stepped over Zander’s legs and tiptoed past the sleeping bodies of my friends. I grabbed a couple of the last few bottles of water and headed toward the dim glow of the laptop in the corner of the weight room. As expected, Jake was there, hunched over the keyboard, hacking away at the keys. I sat down on the floor next to him, handed him a bottle, and leaned in to see what he was doing.
“Hey, you,” I croaked, my voice hoarse from dehydration and exhaustion.
“Morning, sunshine,” he said, snickering quietly. As usual, he didn’t look away from the computer as he spoke. “How’d you sleep?”
“Like a sack of bricks,” I snorted, focusing on the weird image on the screen. “What the hell is that?”
“Shhh,” he said, anxiously looking over his shoulder. “Keep it down, okay?”
“Okay, sorry,” I whispered, leaning in. “What’s going on, Jake?”
“A couple hours ago, the loop cut out— it just, like, stopped. I tinkered around with it for a while, but I couldn’t seem to get the signal back,” he shrugged. “Anyway, you guys were all out cold and I was way too wired to sleep, so I hooked up my camera to check out the footage from last night.”
“Okay,” I gestured for him to continue. “And?”
“And,” he said, turning the laptop at an angle towards me, “see for yourself.”
He clicked on the film cue marker and slowed the playback to frame-by-frame. The sky was an ominous shade of orange. At the very center of the screen, there was a huge orb of bright light. At first, the white ball of light simply hovered in the sky. Snake-like tendrils of light curled and twisted from its surface. I recognized it immediately as the moments leading up to the flash. Last night, we had all shielded our eyes from the harshness of it, but Jake’s camera had filtered it enough that, this time, we did not need to.
“Wait for it,” Jake whispered, pointing to the center of the screen.
He sped up the film a bit and let it play. I stared at the screen like it was pulling me through, as the giant globe of light got bigger and bigger. The center of the sphere started expanding outward,
pulling the top and bottom edges in toward the center. Suddenly, the orb burst like flattened balloon. A massive shock wave shot off from its widest point and quickly disappeared over the horizon.
“Holy shit,” I whispered in shock, grabbing onto his arm. “That was— Oh my God, Jake!”
“Right?” Jake ran his fingers through his short brown hair. “It’s like those old videos of nuclear test sites they used to make us watch in science.”
“What the hell was that?” I asked, making sure no one could hear.
“Best I can tell, that was the moment that Icarus reached critical mass,” he said, tapping his finger on the numbers at the bottom of the screen.
“10:03 p.m.” I released my grip on his arm and sat back on my feet. “How are we— I mean, what the hell?”
“Trust me, I know,” Jake said, looking at me over his shoulder. “I have watched it like twenty times, and I still can’t wrap my head around it.”
“So that’s what Taylor was talking about,” I said, taking a deep breath. “He said eighteen hours, right?”
“Yeah,” Jake said, clicking out of the video and bringing up a pale blue screen. “Taylor said it would be, approximately, eighteen hours from the moment of eruption until the coronal mass ejection hit our planet,”
“So we have like nine hours until—” I said.
“Until the electromagnetic shit hits the fan and wipes everything out,” Jake said, slamming the laptop shut.
***
The rest of the group was awake now. They ambled about the weight room looking tussled and tired. The bathroom was little more than a three-by-five foot hole in the wall, but each of us waited anxiously to lock ourselves inside for our allotted five minutes.
Killshot (Icarus Series Book 1) Page 10