I’ve lost all sense of time. Upon realizing this I understand that I am regaining an awareness of time. I’m not sure how long I have been in the pool, or how long Liam has been gone, but I know Dad is not present in the water.
The wind and the noise have either come down in intensity or my hearing has adapted to the cacophony. I shout to Grace and Sofie who are now wrapped in a feeble embrace with me. “Where’s Dad?”
Grace seems to have stopped functioning. She worries for others when they stub their toe. The worry and concern she must feel right now has drained her.
“He’s manning the fire truck,” Sofie hollers back. She keeps splashing water on her face. I’m sure it’s to keep cool but it also has the effect of washing away the dirt and tears. Her face is drained of energy and emotion, but her beauty is still radiant. This hardly seems like the time to be thinking about falling in love, but I can’t stop.
Leaning over slowly, I kiss her. I have no explanation for this action. It is unwarranted and inappropriate. But she’s kissing me back! This is amazing. In thirty years, will our children believe the story of our first kiss? I think not. It dawns on me that I’m not sure if this is a first kiss or a last kiss. Was this a final act of desperation before we all die? Or is this a first act of resolution that we will defend and protect each other until the end of time?
My romantic interlude is stunted when the back end of the Escalade comes crashing through the house. As the girls and I dive into the water for cover, the brakes engage. When we surface, we see the giant SUV skid to a stop just short of the pool. There are dings and dents, scratches and burn marks everywhere. Our luxury land liner looks like the battlewagon Sofie had declared it to be.
I can see Liam come around the front of the truck to the passenger side. I can’t imagine how hot it is or feels up there. The girls and I stand motionless, watching as if we are at some strange swim-up movie theatre. The door opens and Dad slumps out of the car onto Liam’s shoulders. Liam is not big, maybe 5’8” when he lets his hair grow, and 140 pounds after a big meal. He’s diminutive compared to Dad’s 6’1”, 220 pounds. But Liam is tenacious, and he manages to drag Dad over to the pool.
Standing on the edge, they both just fall into the water. No effort or control. One last act from two people that have no energy left to act. Sofie and Grace are to Dad almost before he is even underwater. I let Liam submerge and float for a moment. Part of me expects him to do a somersault and surface with a mouthful of water to spit in my face. But we’re not swimming for fun. I reach down and pull him to the surface.
“Thanks Seamus.” I see the words move through his lips. It’s still too loud to hear each other and he is in no position to shout.
I half-swim, half-float him to the pool stairs. The girls and I sit Liam and Dad down on the stairs in water up to their necks. Dad is barely conscious and Grace needs to hold his head up to keep him from face-planting into the water. Liam can keep himself upright, but I have my arm around him in case that changes suddenly.
Water from the fire hose splashes off the roof of the Escalade and showers down on top of us. Although it feels like it, we are not on fire. One more explosion indicates the loss of a second house on the cul-de-sac. In a surreal sight, there are patches of the roof of our house on fire, even as water from the fire truck streams down around them.
There is no way we can survive if the temperature rises further. These thoughts are taking longer and longer to form. My brain is shutting down critical thinking and diverting all power to survival. I have become the basest form of human life: heart beating and lungs pumping, nothing else worthy of energy or thought.
We are all lost in a similar catatonic state. The duration is unknown, but I am registering a drop in temperature. Life would be bearable if I moved to the top step of the pool, so I do. Soon I am on the pool deck. I lie face-down in the sooty, tepid water. I want to cry, but despite all of the water, I am dehydrated. I look up to see Sofie and Grace helping Dad and Liam onto the pool deck.
The wind and the rage of the fire have gone. There is an eerie stillness and silence as Sofie walks slowly towards me.
“Grace is going to stay with Liam and your Dad. I need you to help me get some bedding and dry clothes.” She is persuading me, no commands or demands. I need to muster the energy to do this with her.
As I rise to my feet, critical thinking comes back slowly. I realize the irony that after having just survived an hours-long wild fire ordeal, we could freeze to death tonight if we don’t have dry clothes and bedding.
Chapter 15
I wake up with a headache, which is not surprising but is still not comfortable. Looking outside through the blown-out window, it is still dark. My watch, a gift for my 10th birthday, did not survive the fire. For a few summers I gave that watch a pretty good beating. I always thought it was indestructible. It’s another reminder of how close we must have come to not making it.
No one else is awake. Everyone is together in what had been the library or den of the house. We sleep on makeshift beds and are covered with an assortment of blankets and tarps. If it weren’t for the snoring and the modern furnishings, we could be mistaken for sarcophagi arranged around a burial chamber.
Grace was the last one to lie down. It was like she was tucking everyone in. She made sure we all had a water bottle and ample covers. Her people skills are amazing. She made everyone feel safe, secure and comfortable, but did not make it seem like we were being “mothered.” I drift back to sleep, thinking that we couldn’t have made it through the fire if any one of us had been absent.
As I sleep, I dream of jumping on the trampoline. My body is younger, maybe 8 years old, but my mind is current and aware of everything. I’m all alone on the trampoline, and it feels so good to have this time and space to myself. It makes me really happy and warm inside. This is strange because I no longer crave that alone time like I did when I was younger. The last week has been spent in close quarters with my family and Sofie. In the past, I would have been dying to get away and have some privacy, but not now. Now I welcome the closeness and support of these special people.
My dreaming turns to the reactor. I haven’t really thought about it for almost two days—the longest hiatus since I began working on it. But why am I running through the components and requirements? The design is done. My computer simulation completed. I know it will work; I am just waiting to build it. The only outstanding issue is connecting it to the power grid, which is not technically a problem for the reactor, so why am I dreaming about it? Is this a problem I subconsciously solved when I was eight?
Grace and Liam are climbing into the trampoline now. As much as I just acknowledged their value and importance to me, I want them to get out. This is my time. I’m solving problems here; give me some space. But they won’t leave. In fact, they are both getting closer, until they grab me and start pushing me. I raise my hands to push them away and startle awake. Grace is staring down at me with a smile. Liam is watching her, trying to judge how he is supposed to react.
“Morning, sleepyhead. Dad wants us to get up so we can get on the road.” Grace is standing now and surveying the room.
As I get to my feet, the room is a disturbing sight. The windows are blown out. There is water dripping all around us. Debris and soot litters the floor. I have no idea how all this stuff got in here, but if any one piece had been any hotter, landed in a slightly different place or not passed through the wall of water, the house would have burned to the ground.
We’ve walked back to the great room, empty-handed. There is nothing worth taking with us. Out by the pool Dad and Sofie are cleaning off the Escalade. Thanks to Liam it survived, but it is definitely worse for wear. I know Dad is going to want to replace it, but after that fire there cannot be another vehicle around for hundreds of miles.
Without much discussion we all climb into the battlewagon and find our seats. There is nothing to pack up. What little we had unpacked is in tatters in the shell of the house. The plan
ning we did for the fire did not include plastic bags to keep our things safe from the water. I don’t know how far reaching the fire was but the only resources we have left in the world are stuffed in the back of the Escalade.
Dad slowly pulls through the hole in the back wall of the garage. I’m not sure if he is worried about nails or other debris popping the tires, but it doesn’t seem like it. He is indiscriminately rolling over piles of debris. As we get out to the cul-de-sac, the road is dirty but does not appear to be blocked by anything large.
We ride along in silence, surveying the wasteland around us. Was it just two days ago that this was green countryside? Now I am reminded of the pictures from history class that showed Hiroshima and Nagasaki after the nuclear bombs were dropped.
While we had all been aware of the loss of humans, it didn’t feel like we were living in a post-apocalyptic world. Now all that has changed. I know it was a wildfire, but the result gives the distinct impression that two superpowers waged an historic battle. As if mutually assured destruction was acceptable as long as it was complete. We were not meant to survive any of this; yet here we are, limping along the last vestiges of I-80.
“Can we call Mom?” Liam breaks the silence from the back seat. Liam always breaks the silence, but this time I cannot complain.
“That’s a good idea,” Dad says as he hands his phone back to Grace.
We are bouncing along at 40 miles per hour. The trash in the road and the effect the fire had on the tires has greatly diminished our top speed. We lost a day in the fire and now we will lose more days having to drive slowly. I thought we could get to California early, but now it seems we will be days late. I haven’t worried about Mom in a while. But now I’m worried that she’ll be mad at us when we reset expectations for our arrival. We should have left sooner.
Grace seems to be having trouble with the phone, but I can’t imagine what it is. I look over at her with a puzzled look. She’s showing me the phone and it’s the call history screen. It’s full of calls to Mom from yesterday. She flicks the screen and Mom’s name appears over and over again. Well, over one hundred times, but I can’t tell if Dad ever got through. Did they speak? Did he leave a message? Was he trying to say goodbye, assuming the worst from the fire?
“There is no signal at all.” Grace isn’t really talking to anyone in particular.
We haven’t seen any utility poles in the past few hours of driving. There haven’t even been the tall radio towers that are so commonly visible on cross-country journeys. It’s no wonder there is no cell signal. The towers must have fallen over or at least the equipment was destroyed in the forest fire.
“Phone equipment is designed to withstand the hottest summer temperatures and even electronic charges caused by lightning strikes. When I worked at Cisco, we had a lab where they tested equipment for use in the field. It was pretty cool.” Dad doesn’t usually reminisce about the days when he worked.
“I bet none of it was designed to withstand a wildfire,” Liam says. The telephone network was built tough and designed to last, but it was not indestructible.
Suddenly I feel the brakes engage and the Escalade slows to a stop.
“Sofie, would you mind driving for a while? I need a rest.” Dad is looking over at Sofie.
“No problem,” she replies and they are both opening their doors as if this had been planned. I’m too tired to be offended that I was not considered as a driver. Plus I need to set my brain to work solving some other problems.
“Just keep it at or under forty okay?” Dad is in the passenger seat, settling in.
“Got it.” Sofie already has the car in drive and we are moving forward.
I need to focus on this morning’s dream. I’m convinced that I have the answer to a key question. The problem is that I don’t even know what the question is, so I can’t think about the answer. It’s even worse than that. If I make myself dream, do I focus on the trampoline or do I focus on connecting the reactor to the grid?
As exhaustion is setting in throughout the car, I also realize that we need to find a place to stay tonight. I have no doubt that there will be no mansion. Forget about luxury hotels; from the looks of things there won’t even be a Red Roof Inn or budget hotel tonight. We can always sleep in the Escalade, but that would not be restful and I can imagine that one of us would wind up killing Liam.
Sofie winds up driving for hours. My mind is shifting back and forth between power grid connectors and what type of shelter may have survived the fire, until finally Sofie applies the brakes and stops.
“Enough. I have no idea how you do it but I cannot drive another mile,” she says. The door is open and Sofie is climbing out. She stands up tall and then bends over to touch her toes. She’s flexing her legs and hopping around before she goes right into jumping jacks.
Dad leans across the console and turns off the ignition. There’s a big smile on his face and he turns to us in the back of the car. “Sofie has a great point. Let’s all get out and stretch a little bit.”
The three of us pile out of the back of the truck. Grace and Sofie immediately join up and start comparing stretches and yoga exercises. Liam somehow has a football with him and throws it over to Dad.
I play catch with Liam and Dad for a little bit. It’s an interesting and well-deserved interlude, but I’m ready for it to be over.
“Liam, go deep!” Dad shouts and Liam takes off running on I-80 West. Dad throws a bomb and Liam runs under it, making a perfect basket catch.
After a few more deep routes, I feel like we need to move on.
“How are we fixed for gas?” I ask, in an effort to get our minds back on moving forward.
The wobble that replaces Dad’s perfect spiral is all the answer I need. Not good.
“We have about 94 miles to empty and it doesn’t seem likely that we’ll find a surviving gas station in those miles.” Dad has regained his spiral, but the long throws are done.
Grace and Sofie have stopped stretching and doing yoga. The three of us are staring at Dad. We forgot about gas. If we run out of gas, there will be no choice but to sleep in the Escalade tonight. And then walk tomorrow. The barren landscape makes walking feel like a very exposed position, fraught with risk.
“What are you guys talking about?” Liam is now back with us by the truck.
“Gas.” I’m not trying to sound mean, but with Liam it comes naturally.
“Liam, I don’t know if we are going to find a gas station before the car runs out.” Dad is not happy with me giving attitude.
“What are those things called at gas stations, you know like the upside down U?” Liam is motioning in the air with his hands, making an upside down U, as if the communication problem is that none of us can picture the shape.
“You have to be kidding me with this, Liam!” I growl and spin around, a physical display of my frustration.
“No, you know those things at the ends of the pumps? It’s like a thick pipe in an upside down U shape and they go into the ground,” he’s on the ground showing us the thickness of the pipe with his hands and gesturing how it would come up out of the ground.
“I’m sorry, buddy, but I have no idea what you’re talking about. But why does it matter anyway?” Dad is ready to shift back to defeat.
“Because I’ve seen them.” He doesn’t understand why we aren’t following him and is getting excited.
“What do you mean you’ve seen them? If they’re at gas stations, we’ve all seen them.” Sofie is getting in on it.
“Well, while we have been driving today I was watching for patterns.” A smile is growing across Liam’s face. “I noticed the first one right after we got on the highway this morning. I’ve seen three more since then but it’s been awhile since I saw the last one. So I think another one is coming up.”
“You mean you think you can find a gas station?” Sofie is the first one with a trace of optimism in her voice.
“Yup.” Triumphant Liam is one of my least favorite Liam’s.<
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Chapter 16
Liam had been right. The concrete and steel barriers that protect the pump islands from reckless and distracted drivers had the right combination of materials and size to partially survive the fire. Once we began intently surveying the landscape and searching for clues that would indicate a gas station, it seemed obvious when we came to one.
Fortunately we had the pump and hoses from the gas station experience back home. It took awhile to find the covers for the underground tanks, but we were able to find the fuel and eventually get the Escalade filled.
We have been on the road for well over 12 hours now. The sun has fallen out of the sky and darkness is chasing away the dusk quickly. I know Dad does not want to travel at night, but there has been no discussion of stopping.
“Is that a river?” Sofie is pointing out the front window.
“I think I see a tree!” Grace shouts.
“We made it.” Dad lets out a sigh.
“Made what?” Sofie is getting a lesson in Dad’s poor communication.
“The Mississippi river. We’ll stop on the other side,” he answers solemnly.
As we approach the river, the effects of the fire seem to lessen. While I know it isn’t true, I think the fire had intelligence. It saw the river and knew there was no way across. Instead of raging against that barrier and consuming all the fuel right up to the waters edge, it receded and headed east, where it was unfettered until it reached the Atlantic. It burned ruthlessly consuming towns and cities, Chicago, Philadelphia, New York and Boston. I can’t say for certain, but it feels as if half of the United States was wiped away.
Dad doesn’t stop at the bridge. He rolls right on over it. As if we are desert travelers arriving at an oasis after a day baking in the sun, we cheer when we reach the other side. We’re back to civilization and humanity. There are buildings and billboards, trees and grass. Things are looking up, and I can feel the energy in the car.
Annihilation (The Seamus Chronicles Book 1) Page 10