by Justin Bell
Vera immediately flung herself up into a seated position.
“Mommy!” she screamed. “Is it falling?”
Marilyn rushed to her side and wrapped her up in a tight, warm embrace.
“It’s okay, Vera sweetie,” she said. “It’s all right, monkey. Just thunder, okay? Only thunder.”
“But we’re outside,” Vera replied in a sleepy, not quite sensible voice. “Lightning… we need to get inside!”
“We can’t right now,” Marilyn said calmly, trying to maintain her own peace. “Okay, we have no place to go at the moment, so we should get ready to get moving. Okay? Can you help me with that?”
“Yeah, get moving,” Vera replied. “We need to get inside.”
More thunder shattered the landscape, this time chased by lightning, a jagged, sharp fork of it ripping a chasm through the twilight sky.
“Getting closer,” Drake whispered.
“At least it’s not raining… stuff,” Keeler said quietly as he rolled over into a somewhat upright position.
“Not yet, anyway,” Scott replied.
“Boys, let’s not,” Marilyn said firmly, gesturing toward Vera who still clung tightly to her. Scott and Keeler nodded, getting up into a standing position and starting to roll up the jackets they’d been sleeping under. The Marines hadn’t even brought sleeping bags, and Marilyn knew if they didn’t get to a town shortly, they were going to have all sorts of short, cold nights and end up even more exhausted than they were already.
“You said there are towns east of here?” she asked, turning toward the Marines, who had gathered into a cluster, packing up their own cluttered belongings. Above them, the sky began to gently coalesce into dawn, darkened purple shifting to a mixture of purple and pink.
Sergeant Percy nodded. “Yeah. Small towns, but I think just through the rocks and ledge over there. Gives new definition to the term one-horse-town, but at least there’s something. Roofs and doors and actual buildings. That’s close enough for me right now.”
“Mommy, I’m hungry,” Vera complained. Drake nodded toward her, shoving her hand into her backpack.
“I don’t think we’ve got time to fix up an MRE right now,” Marilyn said, but Drake pulled out a simple granola bar.
“Give her this, it should hold off the hunger at least for a little bit. Maybe once we get into the mountains the weather will have moved on and we can stop for a lunch.”
Marilyn nodded. She retrieved the granola bar and passed it along to Vera who looked at it as if it were a Snickers. She gleefully tore apart the foil wrapper, shoved the trash in her pocket and enveloped half the bar with a single eager bite.
Her mother looked back toward the shadowed ridge, which was starting to come into clearer focus now that the sun was actually beginning its methodical rise up into the sky. The desert ground met up with the sheer angle of the mesa a few hundred yards from where they now stood. Even from this distance she could make out some sort of paths up through the jagged, abrupt peaks, paths working through thick rows of leafless trees and winding over uneven rocks and crags. The mesa looked like it went up a few hundred yards, and then fell off into a cliff-like surface that she could not see beyond. From the sounds of it, the town was just on the other side of the complex row of small mountains.
Since leaving the Marines, Marilyn’s sense of distance had gone south and she had no real perspective about just how far away they were from town, though she figured it was a day’s hike at least. Another full day of Arizona desert heat, limited water, and foul tasting MRE’s which took even more valuable water to heat up.
Already, even after a short time, the desert was looking more and more hostile. Flat and emotionless, but also hard, and sterile, a wide swath of impenetrable nature that was built to resist the influence of man.
It was them versus it. And she definitely wanted to win.
***
Had she really been complaining about the desert heat at five o’clock in the morning? When they’d begun their trek for the day, she’d already bemoaned the long, full-day hike through treacherous land that it would likely be. Now, a few hours later, the sun had made its way into the sky, glaring down at them with a heat-soaked stare, and she felt ridiculous for complaining about the climate of the pre-dawn hours.
Her legs ached as if they had been rolled over by a car. For at least the past thirty minutes they’d been hiking more than walking, pressing forward over the mesa and through the tall, meandering rocks, trying to stay on whatever path existed—when there was an actual path to follow. Lieutenant Drake led the line with Scott and Keeler just behind her. Marilyn walked with Vera hand-in-hand (there was no way she was carrying her up the near vertical slope) with two of the other Marines flanking her on each side. Private Boskwin brought up the rear, holding an automatic rifle and watching behind them as they crossed, making sure they didn’t get any unwelcome surprises during their little trek across rock and stone.
Slowly, methodically, they made their way through the rocks, ducking around scraggly branches and leafless trees, and Marilyn kept her hand out behind her, tightly wrapped around Vera’s narrow fingers. Each step was careful and practiced, her little legs navigating the gradual slope and uneven chunks of stone pounded together into the rocky formation.
“Mommy, my legs are tired,” Vera said quietly, her eyes shifting, not wanting to look like she was complaining in front of everyone else. “And I’m hungry again.”
Marilyn halted, drawing down into a crouch. “I know, monkey,” she said quietly. “Just a little longer, okay? We’re almost at the top, then it’ll be downhill and that will be much better, right?”
Vera nodded softly. Marilyn looked back behind her at the rocks coming together up the slope of the mountain. There were increasing gaps between the peaks, cracks and fissures that led down into darkness, a perpetually questionable trek that looked as if it might be getting even more so. She told her daughter that they were almost near the top, and that much was true, but what she hadn’t told her was that this stretch of rocky terrain was far more dangerous and far riskier than any trek so far. The packed dirt path had mostly been consumed by encroaching rocks, and by the looks of things, the next hour was going to be spent climbing rock to rock, deftly avoiding separation within the mountain face, and not simply walking along a somewhat manicured footpath.
“What’s on your mind?” Lieutenant Drake asked, coming toward her.
Marilyn released Vera’s hand and pressed her palm into her shoulder. “Stay here for a minute, hon, I’m going to talk to the Marine, okay?”
Vera nodded sheepishly.
“Things look… dangerous,” Marilyn said quietly, turning back toward Drake. “Are you sure this is the best way through?”
“Sorry to say,” Drake replied, “this is the only way through. Not so much a matter of best. Trying to track around this range would add days to our trek and would be a lot more dangerous than just pushing on over.”
Marilyn nodded. She understood. They had to be safe, but there were also people left stranded at the wreckage of the Osprey, and they had to think of them, too. They’d left them with quite a pile of MRE’s as well as a radio in the event that satellite coverage resumed, but beyond that, they were completely on their own.
“After we hit this crest and head down the other side, it’ll get easier,” Drake replied. “And then the town is only a few klicks away.”
Marilyn nodded again.
“You want me to take her for a bit?” Keeler asked, approaching from the other side. “I can probably carry her. Me and Scott.”
“Thank you, honey,” Marilyn replied. “If you want to help that would be great. The terrain is too uneven for her to be carried. You might fall.” She shifted her gaze to the little girl. “Vera, will you walk with Keeler? He’ll make sure you’re safe.”
Vera smiled and nodded. “Sure.” Marilyn could tell by looking at her that this decision met with her approval. Walking with one of the big kids made he
r a big kid, too, not a baby being escorted by her mother.
“All right, let’s get moving,” Drake insisted gently, jerking her head toward the jagged peaks of the squat ledges. Scott continued close on Drake’s heels, stepping carefully over the opened ledge of a fissure, having to stretch to make the wide expanse. Marilyn followed alongside the Marines, and Keeler helped Vera jump the gap, then stepped over after her.
They heard the ratcheting crack before they saw anything, not coming from the rocks below them, but from somewhere up among the thick cloud cover. It was a sharp sound like the snapping of rigid glass, followed closely by a deep, deafening wham of force.
“What was that?” screamed Marilyn, turning to look. The whole group followed her eyes and saw it, far off in the distance, though against the flat backdrop of plain sky it was visible. From their vantage point they couldn’t tell how far away it was, though Marilyn figured it for potentially hundreds of miles; however their altitude and the clearness of the sky made it very visible. It seared the blue, cutting a narrow, straight path through the empty daylight, cresting a light arc before vanishing behind the horizon, plunging straight toward the Earth.
“Mommy!” shouted Vera. “It was another shooting star. Another one!” Her lips were quivering.
“I know, sweetheart,” Marilyn said and took a step toward her. It had been behind them and to their south, a swarming congestion of falling orbital debris. Some of the larger chunks had been heading straight for where the Osprey went down--
A few moments later the ground shifted, like a slow, rolling tide, the rocky ledge swaying beneath them.
“Earthquake!” screamed Drake, bending her knees to steady herself as if she was surfing on the ledge’s precipice, trying to steady her balance. The sudden movement surprised Marilyn and she toppled over backwards, stumbling, her arms pinwheeling to try and catch herself. She toppled to the left, the higher rocks groaning around them, moving, shifting, the entire world uneven and tilting.
“Watch out!” screamed Drake as the peak of a tall nearby collection of rocks seemed to almost twist against the daylight sky, and several loose chunks of mountain broke away, thumping down the steep slope, tumbling end over end. Private Jenkins charged to his left, but not fast enough, and a large chunk of rock struck him on the left shoulder, sending him sprawling to his right, screaming. For one dreadful second he hovered over the edge of a steep downward slope, turning toward them and reaching, hoping for something to grasp onto. There was nothing, and he continued his reverse momentum kicking over backwards and pitching over the edge, screaming as he fell until there was a muffled, sickening crack and his voice cut off abruptly.
“Oh God!” shouted Marilyn, still trying to steady herself.
“Get to the crest!” screamed Drake. “Get to the crest and away from the high rocks before they fall down on top of us!”
Marilyn twisted around, lunging toward Keeler who had barely caught his balance, using one of the rocks next to him to hold himself up. With his other hand he clutched Vera’s narrow wrist, clamping it tight.
“Come on, Keeler!” screamed Marilyn. “Grab my hand and let’s go!”
Keeler nodded and adjusted his stance just before the rock he was using as balance broke away, crackling at the base and tumbling left. Her youngest son had been leaning on it, grappling with her daughter’s arm and when the rock broke and fell, Keeler went with it, his tight grasp on Vera’s arm dragging her with him.
“No!” screamed Marilyn. “No!!” She plunged forward as the rocky surface of the ledge her children had been standing on fractured, quivering, and snapped, turning an entire rock face into spider-web fissures and cracks, breaking the entire mountain apart, sending it collapsing, tumbling, spinning away off to her left.
She stood there, watching. A minute ago she’d been standing on an intact ledge, ten feet away from two of her three children. Now the rocks had fallen away, a cliff under her feet where flat slabs of rock had been. Most of the ledge had tumbled to her left, but her two children had vanished in a flurry of fallen rock to her right. They were gone.
Just… gone. Her mouth gaped as wide as her eyes, and as the shifting rocks settled beneath her unsteady feet, the world spun wildly around her and everything that had been suddenly came undone.
Chapter 4
Now.
Monday, June 29th.
Mountain View, California.
The sun had been up for a few hours, but Darla hadn’t dared venture out. Not yet. There was still the constant din of noise just outside, the shuffling scrape of the mob, the sporadic smash of glass and the occasional yell of angst or triumph, she couldn’t often differentiate between the two. She still couldn’t believe she’d spent the night in the parking garage, though she’d moved from her corner on the bare pavement to the second-floor office where security had once maintained a position before completely giving up and moving to safer ground. The office’s door had been unlocked and she let herself in, padlocking it behind her. A desk along the north wall of the small, square room had offered her plenty of space to curl up and sneak under, sleeping in relative security, knowing that nobody could sneak up on her there.
Her sleep had been troubled at best, and she had awoken several times during a tumultuous night, most often when there was clattering noise outside, an angry engine roaring by, shouting, yelling, objects being thrown and broken. Almost every noise she could think of had rattled the windows during the scant hours of night she’d had. It left her rested, yet anxious, a feeling that she’d had several hours of sleep, but no hours of deep sleep; a strange contradiction in physical condition where her muscles felt as if they were at least somewhat renewed, but her brain was still wrapped up in a perpetual fog.
Crawling out from under the desk, she used it to lift herself up into a standing posture, though still bent over, using the surface as a brace to hold herself upright. On the desk was a computer, a micro-tower laying sideways on the hard surface, a small flat-panel monitor sitting on top of it. Darla hit the mouse, waking the computer from sleep and, just as sleepily herself, she moved the cursor around, getting the monitor awake as well.
Though she didn't expect much, she guided the cursor to the internet browser, clicked, and was promptly told in no uncertain terms that there was no internet connection. There was no current internet connection, nor would there be any time soon, nor would there likely ever be and she should just give up trying and go live in a cave.
“Damn it,” she whispered to herself. The world outside was no longer dark, it was light and vibrant, with nothing left to be afraid of. She was an introvert, but she wasn’t generally agoraphobic, she wasn’t scared of people, crowds, or open spaces, she just preferred her privacy and preferred to be at home. She knew in this case that neither was possible, and that distinct realization twisted her up inside and locked her feet, making her feel caught and stuck in place. Safe within the small office, protected within the four walls and windows, a blockade between her and the outside world.
But there was nothing that would keep her safe. If the Kessler Syndrome was currently raging up in Earth’s orbit, and if kinetic bombardment weapons were discharging—either accidentally or on purpose—huddling in an office in a parking garage would be about as helpful as draping tissues over her head and crossing her fingers. If she wanted to truly make a difference, to honestly make herself and the world safer, she had to get to SETI. That was the only alternative, and at this point that meant venturing out into the streets.
Looking around the small office, she saw her laptop bag and duffel and she moved that way, slinging both over her shoulders yet again. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep, hard breath, steadying herself as she listened to what was happening in the world beyond. Loud yells and another scattering of breaking glass tensed her muscles, but she held them firm and turned toward the door, striding through, out into the actual parking garage itself.
She was alone there, in moderate darkness with the lights all out
. The sun, though bright on the streets outside, didn’t reach deep within, leaving her somewhat concealed. Walking down the gradual, gentle downslope she picked up her pace, focusing on the small structure by the entrance, the yellow metal guardrail tipped down in front. There were no cars cruising by, no sign of movement at all, and the noise of the people grew fainter and duller as she moved toward the entrance to the garage. Passing each car, she looked at them longingly, considering whether or not it was worth acquiring one of them, but realizing that the roads were probably still choked with people and the vehicle would ultimately do her little good.
Reaching the exit, she veered right, merging with the street running next to the garage and crossed it swiftly, making her way to the alleys across the road. The darkened, narrow passages between buildings seemed to her to be the safest place she could be, since she had to be out in the world and within moments she was walking a block away, feeling at least moderately protected as she made a steady course away from the garage and toward her office at SETI.
Now she just hoped that there would actually be something there worth traveling for.
***
Then.
Saturday, May 9th.
Camp Pendleton.
Marilyn’s legs ached, but she continued on, running the streets, letting her lungs breathe in the California ocean air. Camp Pendleton wasn’t right on the coast, but it was close enough that the clean smell of salt and sand greeted her during her morning runs.
For a few years she’d gotten out of the habit. A crazy life with two young kids had pulled her from her normal routine, especially as Marcus had been deployed and she’d run out of options for child care. But Keeler was almost ten, Scott was nearly thirteen, and she could leave them alone for a few hours at a time. This morning, Marcus was even there, a rare treat as he’d returned from Afghanistan for a few months. Life almost seemed normal.