by Linda Mooney
“What’s about to come down?” he asked.
“Chaos. The complete disintegration of civility and civilization. You’ve heard the term ‘dog eat dog’? Well, it’s going to be worse than that. A hell of a lot worse.”
The man bowed his head for a moment. “That’s what I’ve been thinking.”
“You can’t reach your station. Cell phone towers and all radio wave transmissions have been disrupted. I’m betting you’ve also lost all communication with your fellow officers.”
The officer let out a huge sigh. It was clear he was conflicted between doing his duty and needing to see to his personal life. “You sound like you already know how all this is going to go down. Like you’re some kind of clairvoyant.”
Emlee chuckled. “Let’s just say that, so far, everything I’ve foreseen has come true. And it’s not going to get better. Ever. At least, not in my lifetime.”
“Where did you say you were headed? To the marina?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re quite a distance from there. Which way were you heading?” She pointed, and he gave a nod. “You’re going in the wrong direction.”
She made a face. “I was afraid of that.”
“Guess you’re not from around here,” he remarked.
“No.”
“What’s at the marina? Were you planning on stealing a boat?”
“No. My boyfriend has a sailboat there. It’s docked at Pier C. We got unexpectedly separated, and I was trying to make it there before he gives up on me and leaves.”
The officer waved for her to move toward him. “Come on. I’ll take you there.”
“Can I get my poker and milk?”
He popped the trunk in answer. “Keep the milk with you, but stow the poker in here, for my peace of mind.”
She didn’t have to be asked twice. Tossing the poker into the back of the car, she hurried to get into the passenger side seat.
Chapter Seventeen
Ride
“I bet you haven’t taken a break since all this shit went down,” Emlee commented.
They were driving down one of the main thoroughfares through town. She noticed the officer was avoiding the freeway, and she could guess why. No telling how bad the traffic was on them, not to mention the number of accidents.
The car was deathly quiet with the exception being the sound of rain hitting the windshield and the wipers that flicked it off. There was no radio chatter, which there would have been plenty of if this had been any time in the past.
Every so often the glare of another car’s headlamps washed over them as they passed. It allowed her to see the cop’s face and the struggle of emotions pasted there. He kept his eyes on the road, but he eventually answered her.
“This is my thirty-eighth straight hour on duty. I can’t remember the last time I stopped to pee, and I haven’t had anything to eat since five this morning.” He tried to make light of the situation, but she knew better.
“I’m going to get something out of my backpack. Do you trust me?”
He finally glanced over at her, then down at the backpack sitting on the floorboard between her feet. “Sure. Go ahead.”
She reaching in and pulled out the first thing her fingers encountered. It was a bag of beef jerky. Tearing the strip off the top, she opened it and held it out to him. The officer dipped two fingers inside and pulled out a strip. “Thanks,” he murmured, and stuffed the entire thing into his mouth.
They ate in silence. After a while, the man spoke again.
“You said those aliens are destroying our world? Why?”
“I don’t know. The only thing I’m sure of is that they’re targeting the cities and wiping out as many factories and anything they believe might be used to fight against them.”
“Including military bases?”
“Military bases, aircraft, aircraft carriers, our naval ships at sea. They’re all prime targets. But they’re also destroying densely populated areas. I guess they figure the fewer people there are to rebel, the better,” she said. “Of course, this is all conjecture of my part. I’m just going by what I’ve seen so far.”
“Why do you think they’re attacking us?”
Emlee sighed. “I don’t know that, either, but Mykail believes they may have had a peaceful intent when they first arrived. It wasn’t until after we shot down one of their spaceships that they decided we were dangerous and went ballistic on us.”
“Do you think they’ll stay? Or do you think they’ll move on after they’ve had their fill of us?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” she confessed.
The rain was letting up some, to the point where the officer shut off the wipers. “Pier C?”
“Yeah. Slip twelve. The boat’s called ‘Mysty-fi.’”
The patrol car’s headlights illuminated the dark pier. The officer pulled up to the gated entrance and stopped, but left the engine running and the headlights on. They both scanned the marina for some sign of activity, but there didn’t appear to be any.
“Doesn’t look like your boyfriend’s here.”
“He may be keeping the lights off or covered so that no one else can see them.”
The man gave a nod. “I’m surprised there aren’t more people here.”
Emlee smiled at him. “Even if you had a big boat, and the world was ending, would you think about taking it out into the bay? Or would you opt instead to get into the car and drive as far as you could to get away from here?”
The man snorted. “Good point.” He turned his head to look at her. “Want me to go with you?”
“No, thanks. I’ll be okay.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure. Listen, what is your name?”
“I’m Sergeant Apsteen.”
She glanced down at his name tag. D APSTEEN. “What’s the D stand for?”
“Dan. Daniel.”
“Well, Sergeant Dan Apsteen, thank you for the ride. Here.” She handed him the rest of the bag of jerky. “Take this. Stop at the next store or convenience mart you can find and raid it. In fact, pack the car with all the food you can find. All rules are off. All laws no longer exist. Then go home to your family and protect them. You must be worried sick about their safety.”
Apsteen rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Yeah. I haven’t been able to check up on them, either. Not with the phones out.”
A boom echoed in the distance. It was followed by a fireball erupting into the night sky. They silently watched it flare up for a moment, until the officer popped the trunk. Emlee got out of the vehicle, hoisted her backpack over one shoulder, and went around to retrieve her fireplace poker from the trunk. Apsteen appeared on the other side of the car to close the lid.
“I’d feel a lot better if you’d let me escort you down to the boat.”
“Suit yourself.” She didn’t want to admit that she was relieved to have him accompany her down to the docks.
She started to go around the squad car and head for the gate, when she caught sight of two vehicles parked a few slots over in parking lot. From the side wash from the squad car’s headlights, one of them looked very much like a red Vayva, but it was hard to tell for certain. She almost asked the officer to go over with her to examine it more closely, then realized that even if she did, she still wouldn’t be able to identify it as being Mykail’s car.
There was a sense of serene calmness once she stepped onto the pier. The waves lapping against the docks reminded her of past summers at the beach, where the sound of the tide often lulled her to sleep. Here, it almost seemed as if this place had miraculously managed to escape the chaos of the world. Cities rise and cities fall, but the oceans remain forever, she philosophically told herself.
Apsteen swept his flashlight over the pilings and stopped. “There’s number twelve.” The florescent white numbers on the wood beam stood out in the glare. “Guess he didn’t wait for you,” the man added, noting the empty slip.
Although she’d half-expected the
boat to be gone when she arrived, she still felt a deep disappointment. “Yeah, well…”
“Hey. Do you spell your name E-m-l-e-e?” He was standing over by a white locker sitting on one side of the slip. Apsteen glanced over his shoulder at her. “I think your boyfriend left you a note.”
She went over to see what the officer was talking about, and discovered a plastic sandwich bag nailed to the lid. Inside was a folded piece of paper with Emlee written on the outside. Tearing the bag open, she pulled out the paper and unfolded it. Apsteen held the flashlight over it so she could read the message.
“A gang of kids is roaming around the place and shooting at anything and everything. It’s too dangerous for me to wait here for you, so I’m heading out into the bay, but I’ll return at daybreak to see if you’ve come back. If you’re not here, I’ll keep trying, but I don’t know how long I’ll be able to do that. There’s no telling what’s going to happen. But in case I don’t get to see you again, I want you to know I’ve fallen in love with you. I won’t forget you. Because of you, you’ve saved my life. At least for the moment. I hope you’ll be here when I return. I can’t imagine facing the future without you. Until later. Love, Mykail.”
“You’re welcome to come home with me to spend the night,” Apsteen offered. “I can bring you back here at dawn.” He glanced around. “It’s not safe for you to wait here, either.”
She was tempted to take him up on his offer, but shook her head. Something inside her was telling her not to go with him. It was as if fate needed her to be here for some particular reason.
“Thank you, sergeant, but, no. I’ll find a safe spot for the night. I don’t know how long he’ll stay out in the harbor and wait for me, and I don’t want to risk missing him again.”
“I understand.” He shone the flashlight over some of the other boats still tied up. “You might want to think about staying on the water tonight. Find another boat you can stow away on. At least it’ll keep you out of this weather.” He grunted. “Can’t say how long this rain’s gonna last, now that there’s no such thing as a weather report anymore.”
“I’ll be okay,” she reassured him. “Don’t worry about me. Go take care of your family. They need you more than I do.” She held out her hand to him. “Thank you again for the ride, Sergeant. Take care, and good luck.”
“Good luck to you, too. And thank you for the advice.”
They shook hands, and she watched him walk back to his car. After it pulled away, she contemplated the man’s suggestion, but again, some sixth sense told her to get off the docks and get away from the water.
Pulling her glow stick from its pocket, she shook it to regenerate it, then cautiously followed the pilings toward the shore.
The explosion caught her completely by surprise, knocking her off her feet. An instant later, she hit the water and started sinking like a rock.
Chapter Eighteen
Struggle
Mykail scanned the marina for any sign of Emlee, but so far, as far as he could tell, she hadn’t appeared. Lowering his field glasses, he scanned the surrounding bay with a naked eye. It seemed he was the only boat out here. An oil tanker had passed on the horizon some time ago, but that had been all the traffic he’d spotted on the water since he’d pulled away from the docks.
It was getting dark. Worse, gray clouds were gathering overhead, resembling dryer lint. There was a roll of thunder somewhere over the land, but it was impossible to tell if it was caused by the weather or the aliens. If it started to rain, he’d have to go below. But if the wind became any stronger, he’d have to leave this vicinity and find someplace safer to moor for the night. The Mysty-fi wasn’t a small dingy, but she wasn’t a large yacht, either. She could withstand a summer storm with no problem. However, if the aliens were behind the foul weather, he’d rather seek an inland harbor and not take the risk of being capsized.
He raised his binoculars again to check. “Where are you, Emlee? Are you forward in time? Or were you able to come back to mine?”
He glanced up at the sky. In another hour it would be too dark to venture anywhere. Well, he could, using the boat’s lights, but he didn’t want to attract any attention. That also meant not running the engine. The sound would carry over the water. Not to mention he needed to save his gasoline and resort to raising the canvas as much as possible.
After one final check of the shoreline, and not seeing anyone who remotely looked like her, he went over to the mast and began cranking the main sail into place. The canvas quickly swallowed the rising wind, and the sailboat began to draw water.
Taking the rudder, he pulled further away from the marina, until it eventually disappeared from sight. He didn’t want to venture too far from land. However, it wouldn’t be wise to hug the shoreline. If those gangs showed up again, he wanted to be far enough away to avoid getting hit by a bullet.
It had been a few years since he’d skippered the sailboat. Fortunately, it was a lot like riding a bicycle. Once he got aboard and began the drill of going through all the safety checks, his confidence to man the helm returned. With his ability to handle the sailboat no longer in question, Mykail was able to focus on Emlee and the violent forces that had brought her into his life. A million questions swirled around in his head, none of which had an answer.
Primarily, what brought her into his time? How was she able to move into his time? He admitted he’d doubted her claims in the beginning. Who wouldn’t? But as things began to unfold, and every instance she’d stated would happen did happen, he’d stopped doubting her and started trusting her. Listening to her. Learning from her, because he knew his life might someday depend on what she was telling him.
Nothing made sense, but he was sure of one thing, and that was she was not consciously controlling it. Which meant there had to be an outside source responsible.
But who?
And why her?
He’d considered the possibility that the aliens might have something to do with her moving back and forth through time, then dismissed it entirely. It had to be coincidence, and nothing else.
The wind picked up, and the little sailboat gained speed. It bounced against the whitecaps, sending sea spray through the air and across the deck. He wiped the droplets from his face with the back of his hand. He’d gone to check on her, to see why she was taking so long in the bathroom, but she’d disappeared. Vanished from a small room with only one way in or out, and no window. The only reasonable explanation he could accept was that she’d returned to her time in the future.
But, again, why then? Why not overnight, while they’d slept? To him, that would have been the perfect time for the powers that be to snatch her away, leaving him to wake up the next morning to wonder if he’d dreamt the whole thing.
More thunder rumbled, and was answered by two flashes of lightning. Mykail got a quick glimpse of his surroundings. He was familiar with this area. There was a quay somewhere nearby, right off a small peninsula. It was private property and heavily forested, preventing anyone from spotting him from land. And under the cloak of absolute darkness, he wouldn’t be seen from the bay. It was the perfect spot to drop anchor. He simply needed to be careful about shallow water in that vicinity, as the bottom was very rocky.
The wind calmed just as the rain began to come down heavily. By the time he got the boat docked and anchored, he was soaking wet. Overhead, lightning continued to spike across the underbelly of the clouds. At one point he thought he heard the distinctive sound of jet engines flying above them, when it was followed by an explosion. The clouds brightened with an orange-white hue, then all went black again. He didn’t need three guesses to figure out what had taken out the airplane.
With the boat secured, he started to go below deck when a second, louder blast came from the direction of the city. An instant later, the force of the detonation slammed into him, knocking him into the side of the cabin. The sailboat jerked on her moorings, but fortunately the ropes held. It took nearly a full minute before the water
s calmed, and everything returned to normal.
Except he knew damn well normal would never truly return.
He dreaded to think what he’d find come daylight.
* * *
Emlee felt something solid beneath her feet as the water closed over her head. Instinctively, she pushed against it with her toes, propelling her upward. She broke the surface, gasping for air, and fought to stay above water. Her fingers brushed against something. She automatically grasped it, and realized it was a rope from the boat docked next to her.
Using the rope to keep her from going back under, she reached out, hoping to find a ladder or something that would enable her to climb out. She scrambled for every handhold she encountered, working blind in the absolute pitch dark.
Another boom came from overhead. This one she felt all the way to her bones. It wasn’t as loud as the first one, but it was more intense, and she paused, waiting to see if another one followed it.
After what seemed like hours, she took the chance and lifted herself completely out of the water, but she remained blind to what lay around her. She suspected there had been some damage done in the area, but how much was a mystery.
She clung to a seat that listed at an angle, as if it had come unbolted from the deck. It was hard to get her feet under her, which made her believe the boat she’d climbed into was sinking.
She listened intently, trying to get a grasp on the situation. She no longer wondered what or who had caused the explosion. She was accustomed to the aliens’ silent and sudden attacks on anything they found suspicious. What remained unclear was whether the marina had been their target, or something close by, and the marina had been caught in the backwash.
She was cold and wet. Her teeth chattered, and the strap of the sodden backpack was digging painfully into her shoulders. She adjusted her grip on the chair, but her fingers slipped across the wet vinyl. At the same time, her feet lost traction on the slanted desk, and she fell back into the water. Fortunately, she managed to keep her grip on the rope, which prevented her from submersing completely underwater.