The Goliath Code (The Alpha Omega Trilogy)

by Suzanne Leonhard

  “The pastor hasn’t been found yet,” Grandpa explained.

  “He’s dead.” David wiped his nose on his sleeve. “In front of the window, three feet, maybe four, from the font.”

  Grandpa shook his head. “We only found you two in that area. Maybe he crawled off.”

  David frowned at me. We both knew Pastor Rick hadn’t been in any condition to crawl anywhere.

  Dirty, injured people continued to drift in through the front doors. I wondered about Alyson. She lived in an older home near Cedar Gulch and, based on what I’d seen in town, older homes hadn’t done well in the quake. And what about Eric? I had no idea where he lived.

  Deputy Jim Hester, a nice man who’d worked for my grandfather for as long as I could remember, called out to him from the front entrance. “Sheriff? We could use you outside. Mayor Skaggs is talkin’ about callin’ off the search at the library on account of the storm and a lot of folks are gettin’ pretty upset.”

  Grandpa sighed and shook his head. “I’ll be right there, Jim.”

  My heart lurched. I grabbed my grandfather’s callused hand. “You’re leaving?”

  “There are still a lot of folks missing, Sera,” he said. “But if you need me to stay, I will.”

  I imagined other kids out there, alone, buried beneath the rubble, wondering if they’d be found before their “rule of threes” ran out. I knew I couldn’t stop him. Still, it took me another long minute to let go of his hand.

  “I’ll be back,” he said. “I promise.”

  David shrugged off his thermal blanket. “I’ll help.”

  Grandpa stopped him, and readjusted the Mylar back around his small shoulders. “The best thing you can do for me, son, is stay here with your sister.” He gave us both serious looks. “Stay put and get some rest. I’ll be back in a few hours.” He kissed us each on the head and left.

  David slowly climbed back up into his chair. He took everything as a slight against his capabilities and I could tell Grandpa’s words had affected him.

  “He didn’t mean it like that,” I said.

  David stared at the floor. “Yes, he did.”

  Raised voices drew my attention to the door. Several bearded men barged into the rotunda, followed by a woman in a white bonnet. All four of them were draped in brown canvas ponchos with large yellow crosses embroidered on the front. They were CBCers.

  They marched over to the man lying on the stretcher. It looked like the man’s bleeding had stopped, but, instead of thanking Doctor Reinkann, the CBCers started shouting at him.

  “You had no right to put your hands on him!”

  “You have defiled my husband!” the woman wailed.

  “Apostle Phillips,” Doctor Reinkann began, “without treatment this man will die.”

  The tall, bald man, leader of the Cascadia Baptist Church, insisted on being referred to as the apostle. He led a group of religious preppers who lived in a commune outside of town. They didn’t use technology and refused to associate with anyone who did—especially doctors.

  “That is not up to you!” the apostle bellowed. He looked at the other two angry, bearded men. “Pick up Brother Eric.”

  The two men moved into action.

  Doctor Reinkann protested. “You can’t take him—”

  The apostle stepped in front of the doctor and gave him a murderous glare. “We can! And we will!”

  I held my breath, waiting to see if the doctor would insist. CBCers could be brutal when it came to protecting their own. A kid at school had found that out the hard way when he’d stolen a poncho off an elderly member. They’d jumped him in an alley two days later.

  The doctor wisely backed down, allowing the apostle and his people to take the dying man away.

  Tim Odette wandered over to us, shaking his head. “Poor fella. His family won’t let the doctor help him.”

  David grunted. “They think their God will heal him.”

  Tim sat down in Grandpa’s vacated chair. “So how you doin’, Double D?”

  David scowled and pulled his thermal blanket tighter around his shoulders. He hated Tim’s nickname for him—Double D for David Donner.

  “I’d be doing a lot better if I had a cellphone in my hand.”

  “Wouldn’t do you any good.” Tim downed a bottle of water. “Power and cell services are out. Nothin’ but a shrieking tone on the landlines. Our folks flew to Texas two days ago; Milly and I haven’t been able to get ahold of ’em yet.”

  “What about FEMA?” David asked. “Or the National Guard.”

  “Haven’t seen any soldiers. Just a lot of sad, hurt people. And looters—I’ve seen a lot of those.” Tim broke into a smile, smacking David on the shoulder so hard he almost knocked him out of his chair. “I sure am glad you’re all right, Double D. You, too, Sera. Your grandpa was worried sick about y’all last night.”

  David exhaled his irritation and righted himself. For some reason—unknown to anyone but him—when Tim had arrived from Austin he’d decided to be David’s best friend. Unfortunately, my brother had been punched, shoved, tripped, and mocked his entire life by guys like Tim. So, naturally, he assumed Tim was just setting him up for a big embarrassment down the road.

  Milly walked up, wiping her hands on a paper towel. “If one more person comes in here bleedin’, I am runnin’ from this building screamin’ my fool head off.”

  Her assessing blue eyes fell on David. “Did you get somethin’ to eat?”

  David’s attention dropped to his lap.

  “They’ve got fruit and sandwiches in the cafeteria.” She arched her brows at his lack of response. “I’d be happy to fetch ya some.”

  David shook his head and muttered something that sounded like, “No thank you.” I’d suspected for a while that my brother had a crush on Milly Odette; now the fact that her presence suddenly struck him mute confirmed it.

  Milly looked at me. “Sera?”

  “I’m fine.” I was starving. I wasn’t sure why I’d lied—maybe I just didn’t like the idea of Milly Odette doing me a favor. It was too late to take it back, anyway.

  “Well, you look just horrible,” she declared. “That dress is—” She looked me up and down and grimaced. “Come with me.” She turned on her heel and headed toward the back hallway.

  I gaped at David, who shrugged, clearly not caring that his twin sister had just been insulted by Hillbilly Barbie.

  “She’s in drill sergeant mode,” Tim warned. “You best go with her before she comes back lookin’ for ya.”

  I scowled at Tim. In what universe did I jump because Milly Odette said so?

  “I hear there’s some donated clothes in the cafeteria,” Tim added.

  Clothes? The idea of finally getting out of the filthy, ruffled dress overrode any issues I had about Milly. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to check it out.”

  I pulled my Mylar blanket tighter around my shoulders, grateful it covered the dress, and trailed after Milly.

  She led me past several empty offices, then into the cafeteria where dozens of people sat at long tables eating sandwiches and apples. My stomach growled at the smells, but food wasn’t my priority at the moment.

  Milly stopped in front of a table piled high with grocery bags overflowing with clothes. I saw pants, shirts, socks, shoes—even underwear.

  She slid a couple of bags my way. “Folks started bringin’ in donations yesterday.”

  I dropped my blanket, no longer caring about the dress I had on, and started tearing through the clothes.

  “There’s bound to be somethin’ in there that’ll fit ya.” She wrinkled her nose at me. “That dress is awful.”

  Something Milly and I could both agree on.

  I quickly found a pair of jeans, a Washington State Huskies sweatshirt, and pair of worn running shoes—all in my size. “I’ll take these.”

  Milly nodded. “Follow me.”

  She walked me into the ladies room, where a large frosted window lit up the small space. The jagged hai
rline fracture in the glass must’ve been a gift from the earthquake.

  “Water’s not on,” she told me, “so don’t use any of the toilets. They’ve set up Porta Potties out back if you need one.”

  With clean clothes clutched in my hands, I could feel my spirits beginning to lift. And then I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

  I stared in shock at my reflection. My hair had come loose from the updo my mother had painstakingly styled for the wedding. It now fell in a tangled, coppery, mess around my head. A thick layer of dirt coated my face, making my eyes look big and haunted. Muddy tearstains ran from my lashes down to my cheeks, and over my jawline. My nose was red and chapped where I’d been wiping it on my sleeve.

  The ruffled dress was ruined. The front ruffle was torn where my mother had grabbed it to pull me away from the plummeting church bell; dirt and sweat stained the purple fabric. I knew the red splatters across the front had to be my mom’s blood.

  Unable to stop myself, I covered my face with my hands and cried.

  After a few moments, I heard Milly pull several paper towels from the dispenser on the wall. “My mama says that when people encounter real tragedy in life, they divide into two groups, the quitters and the fighters.” I heard the glug of a bottle of water as she continued. “She says, ‘And it’s up to you, Milly Lynn Odette, to decide which team you’re gonna be on.’ Here.” I sniffled and peeked through my fingers. She held out a wet paper towel. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  I wiped my face and scrubbed my arms and legs, trying to scour the tragedy off my skin, while Milly pulled out a brush and started working on my tangled hair.

  “Our house is completely gone,” she told me. “Ground swallowed it right up. ’Course, it swallowed up that godawful shed out back, too, so there’s your silver lining. Did your mamma do your hair? I can tell it was real pretty before the quake got it.”

  “My mom—” My voice cracked. “My mom is…. She’s missing.”

  Milly’s eyes met mine in the mirror. “I’m so sorry.” Her face turned pink. I thought she might start crying, which would have been an emotional disaster for us both. Instead, she swallowed hard and continued brushing. “There’s a lot of people missin’—mostly kids. Folks have started tapin’ pictures of them on the Miner’s Memorial outside.”

  She pulled my hair back into a ponytail and secured it with an elastic band. “There. You’re all set.”

  My reflection almost looked like a live person again—even if I didn’t feel so alive on the inside.

  Milly gave my shoulders a steadying squeeze. “Hang in there, Miss Sera. You’re not as alone as ya feel.”

  Before I could start crying again, I took my donated clothes into one of the stalls and closed the door. I kicked off my pointy flats, then couldn’t get out of the filthy purple dress fast enough. But, just as I was about to toss it to the floor, I had second thoughts. I pictured Mom sifting through the discount rack and finding it. As much as I hated the shiny fabric, the over-sized ruffles, and the washed out lavender color, something about it had appealed to Mom. She’d been thinking about me. She’d bought it just for me.

  After I put on the jeans, sweatshirt, and running shoes, I left the stall with the purple dress in my hand. For almost twenty-four hours I’d been desperate to get rid of it and suddenly I couldn’t part with it.

  Milly looked me over, then nodded her approval. “Welcome to Team Fighter, Sera Donner.”

  That’s when I decided to stop hating Milly Odette.

  We left the ladies room together, heading back to the rotunda. I felt clean, human again, ready to take on the world—and then I saw the crowd gathered outside the front doors. More drama? My heart squeezed at the thought.

  Milly paused. “Now, what’s that all about?”

  I tossed the purple dress onto a chair and we hurried over to see what was happening.

  Everybody was staring up at the sky. I peered over the broad shoulders in front of me and saw an enormous, dense wall of black clouds rolling in from the east, churning with frightening intensity and speed. It was a monster storm; unlike anything I’d ever seen.

  “Yikes,” Milly said. “That’s a soaker.”

  Doctor Reinkann stood at the front of the crowd, urging everyone back inside. “All right now. Everybody back into the rotunda, please. We are likely to see lightning strikes and some sizable hail from a storm this size. Come on, now. Back. Back inside where it’s safe.”

  A shock of alarm shot through me. I looked around the crowd. “Where’s David?”

  Milly pointed at a blond head near the door. “I see Tim.”

  We pushed our way through the crowd toward him and I took hold of his arm. “Where’s my brother?”

  Tim looked down at me, his face weighted with worry. “He ran off.”

  “He what?”

  “He took one look at the sky and said he had to find your grandpa.”

  My heart lurched. The wind was picking up. Things were getting bad fast.

  Tim shook his head. “I shoulda stopped him.”

  “It would have been easier to stop the storm,” I grumbled. “I have to find him.”

  “We’ll help you,” Milly insisted. “I need a break from blood and bandages.”

  Ignoring the ominous threat hanging in the sky above, the three of us hurried through the courtyard and out into the street. I looked both ways—past the earthquake wreckage—but couldn’t see David.

  Milly pulled her brother around to face her. “Which way did he go?”

  Tim shrugged. “I dunno, Mills. He’s pretty quick for a little guy.”

  Then I remembered what Deputy Hester had said. I knew exactly where my brother was heading. “The library.”

  We took off running up Idaho Street, past Marko’s Place, past the Brick Bar & Grill, and past Suzy’s Sundries—all of them demolished by the quake. It didn’t take long before I spotted David up ahead of us. He galloped through the rubble at an alarming pace for somebody whose short, bowed legs barely bent at the knees.

  We caught up with him as he turned onto Dakota.

  “Grandpa told us to stay put!” I shouted. How dare you scare me like that! I wanted to add.

  Though out of breath, David didn’t stop. He simply pointed up at the sky.

  “Yeah,” I griped. “Another reason to stay in city hall.”

  David refused to slow down, leaving us no choice but to follow him.

  We found our grandfather standing with Deputy Hester and Mayor Skaggs outside the shell of what had once been the Roslyn Public Library. Rescuers in protective masks swarmed the site. The roof had collapsed. The walls were cracked and crumbling. There were books scattered everywhere.

  We rushed up to them as Mayor Skaggs mopped his forehead. “…about fifteen minutes before the storm hits.”

  “We have a problem,” David blurted.

  Grandpa frowned down at him and then at me. “I thought I told you two to wait at city hall.”

  David, gasping, pointed at the sky. “See that?”

  “We are aware of the storm,” the mayor replied.

  David, trying to catch his breath, shook his head. “It’s…not a storm.”

  The mayor smirked. “All right, son, we don’t have time for—”

  “Now, hold on a minute, Frank,” Grandpa Donner interrupted. “Let’s hear the boy out.”

  David took a deep breath. “Did you hear the sonic boom before the earthquake?”

  Grandpa nodded. “I heard that.”

  Deputy Hester frowned. “It was a fighter jet from—”

  “No.” David cut him off. “When a jet breaks the sound barrier, you don’t hear one sonic boom.”

  All the color drained from my grandfather’s face. “You hear two.” His attention flew back up to the darkening sky. “My God.”

  The mayor looked up. “Well, if it’s not a storm, then what the hell is it?”

  David’s answer sent a chill racing through my body. “It’s an ash clo
ud.”

  Chapter Four

  We raced back toward city hall, the dark, ominous ash cloud looming high above our heads. We’d been given permission to take supplies from Jorgenson’s Hardware, so now Tim hauled a four-foot bundle of heavy plastic over one shoulder. Milly and I carried large cardboard boxes of protective masks, and David had rolls of duct tape slipped over each of his short arms with several box cutters jammed in his pockets.

  The streets were empty. All rescue efforts had been stopped, the people ordered to seek shelter from the danger rolling in from the east. Thanks to my brother, a lot of lives would be saved that night.

  A distinct smell hung in the air. It made my throat burn.

  Milly’s nose twitched. She sniffed. “What is that?”

  “S…Sulfur,” David answered.

  Tim grimaced and coughed. “How bad is this gonna get?”

  “’Pends…on the wind.” David, out of breath, was having a hard time keeping up. We’d had to stop and wait for him a couple of times.

  “Is it Mount St. Helens or Rainier?” I asked.

  David shook his head. “Neither.”

  “Wait.” I scowled. “What do you mean neither?”

  He stopped to catch his breath. “Mount St. Helens is that way.” He pointed to the south. “Rainier is that way.” He pointed to the west. “Do the math.”

  “And what’s thata way?” Tim pointed to the cloud rolling in from the east.

  David was getting frustrated. He didn’t have a lot of patience for amateurs like us. “Yellowstone.”

  Tim started laughing. “The park? Double D, that ain’t a volcano.”

  David gave Tim a death glare. The only crime worse than questioning my brother’s ability was questioning his intelligence. “Yellowstone is the largest volcanic caldera in the world,” he answered tightly. “The last time it erupted—640,000 years ago—it caused an ice age.”