The warmth and the weight of Champ gave comfort to Storm. Soon, he too was unconscious to the world.
The mini-solar system remained invisible to the greater population of Earth. Just beyond the planet's fast-diminishing plasma bubble. The intruders seemingly oblivious to the proximity of the greater yellow giant their system orbited. It wasn’t so. Theirs’ was a complex spiraling dance of orbits within orbits. One that included the paths of the planets they crossed within the greater solar system.
Magnetic fields played between the orbs, just as electromagnetic forces linked Earth's known neighbors and the Sun. The binary stars were aware of each other's presence. The yellow giant continued to dim as its energy was siphoned off by its hungry sibling, the tiny and dark star with a great mass that had traveled so long and so far.
45
Facing Nemesis
“I want to ride in the ambulance with you,” Penny told him. “I've had about as much as I can take of being cooped up in the RV with my mother—the way she's been—she doesn't talk to me.”
“How is Franchette?” Storm asked.
“Not so good,” Penny told him. She wasn't going to fall to pieces in front of him. That wouldn't help at all, she thought.
“She might be having a break-down,” he suggested.
“Oh, God,” Penny exclaimed. “I hope not.” She folded her arms across her chest and forced a brave smile.
“You could at least act a little disappointed we won't be traveling together, you know?”
“I am!” He protested. “You know we need our doctor to have her act together, and you're the one who can best help Franchette to get back to her old self again. Don't you think?”
Penny smiled. “You're right. Sometimes I think you've been in the world longer than I have.”
Storm smiled. “There's only a few years difference between us. It doesn't mean anything.”
“Are you sure about that? Because sometimes you make a big deal of how much older I am.”
He shook his head. “When I do that, I'm just being an idiot.”
She pressed her lips against his.
He pulled her close, but he felt her body stiffen.
“Hey, do you hear that?” she asked, pulling away from him.
They turned and saw Stella and Matthew side-by-side behind the RV. The two were staring across a deep-sloped ditch. The wide shallow trench lay between them and the first row of trees in the wood. It was an old firebreak grown over with weeds.
At first, Storm and Penny thought they were looking at the grass moving under a shifting breeze. Then they saw they weren’t looking at grass moving in the wind. The ground was alive with more snakes than they would ever want to imagine in one place.
“Look at that one over there! It must be five feet long!” Stella exclaimed.
“Good thing we are on the bank and they are not,” Matthew said.
Stella gave a whistle. “Never seen snakes do anything like this. Are they migrating?”
“Nah,” Matthew replied with a frown. “It looks more like they know something's up, just like those birds did yesterday.”
“Woo-woo-woo!” Storm hollered. He leaped aside as a baby serpent wriggled over the toe of his sneaker.
“One is heading up the steps of the camper van,” Summer cried out.
The serpent raised its head, eyeing the open door of the RV. When the rock Storm threw at it hit the metal step with a clang, the animal slithered unhurt behind a tire.
Storm turned to Matthew. “Did you see the one that went over my foot?”
“A baby red-belly,” Matthew informed him. He looked around for more of the creatures. “They're leaving the forest for open ground. It’s a good idea to get out of their way.”
Satisfied they had witnessed the worst of the snake exodus, they gathered inside the RV to eat. The shared breakfast was a hurried affair. Cereal floating in long-life milk and lukewarm instant coffee.
There were few attempts at conversation. There was little to be said. No one knew for sure what lay ahead. They focused inward instead, summoning the strength they were going to need to survive the ordeal that surely lay ahead.
Franchette sat alone inside the camper van and stared through the window. She had refused to answer their invitations to join them around the crowded table. She glanced their way every few minutes as if to check they were still there. Most of the time, she remained still. Staring through the glass as if waiting for something important to happen.
Storm gazed up at Stella sitting in the cab of the RV beside Michael. “Don't worry about us, Mom. We'll be right behind you all the way. Best to keep an eye on the driver. He looks like he's about to fall asleep.”
“You are a cheeky pup!” Michael said, glaring past Stella at Storm. “Have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately?”
Stella reached out the open window and stroked Storm's hair.
“Darren seems a nice man, but be careful,” she said, her smile gone. “You've only known him a short while. You can't be too careful.”
“I dunno, but I think I trust him. If I didn't, I wouldn't have brought him here with me.”
“I mean in general,” she repeated. She leaned further out the window to cup his chin in her hand. “Set aside that rose-colored view of the world you have.”
“I've already done that,” he told her.
She grabbed his arm. “Did you say he asked to come with you?”
“Yeah—” Storm said, feeling uncertain all over again. Stella's instincts usually turned out to be correct. “He showed me the ambulance, Mom. He didn't need to. He could have driven it away himself.”
Stella tried to smile.
“When the you-know-what hits the fan everybody finds out they need others, don't they?”
“Time to go!” Michael told them.
Storm slammed the door shut and walked to the ambulance. He saw Darren standing by the ambulance. He seemed to be gazing blankly at the horizon. Lost in his thoughts. Probably remembering someone he once knew.
As Storm drew close, he saw Darren was staring at something intensely in the distance, and he turned to stare at the two vehicles that were traveling down the highway toward them.
Darren glanced back at Storm. “They're really moving, but they're going to see us. We are just standing out here in the open.”
Storm hollered for Michael to turn off the engine of the RV, and they waited.
The two vehicles roared past the clearing. Armored trucks. Painted in desert camouflage.
“Did you hear that shout?” Storm asked Darren.
“Yeah,” Darren replied. His brows knitted together. “They'll be looking for stragglers. Like us.”
“They were Bushmasters,” Storm told him. “Four-wheel drive infantry mobility vehicles. Could be they're only moving troops.”
Darren glanced at Storm. “Troop carriers?”
“Yeah—” Storm began, and he looked at Darren in horror. “I can hear them slowing down.”
They listened to a turbocharged six-cylinder diesel engine revving as the drives shifted down the gears.
In seconds, the Bushmaster had swung into the clearing. It came to a stop on the side of a rough stretch close to the highway. Before the driver killed the engine, a tall soldier jumped from the cab. He was followed by other uniforms springing out of the back of the truck.
The officer was tall and lean with blond hair, and even at a distance, Storm saw that he was pink-cheeked. He looked no older than Storm.
The man's demeanor made it clear that he considered himself to be in charge. He strode briskly to the ambulance with no attempt to exchange greetings. “How many of you are there?” He shouted across the clearing before he reached them.
“What rank are you supposed to be?” Darren asked. He had chosen to ignore the question. He pointed at the stripes on the man's shoulder.
“Corporal,” the blonde man replied. He pointed to the ambulance and then at the RV. “Are there people inside those vehicles
?”
Darren gazed about him. Storm had disappeared. He turned back to the corporal. “There's a total of five women and one man in the RV,” he said carefully.
The corporal cast a skeptical eye over Darren. There was something odd about the big lad that he couldn't quite pin down. Then again, he didn't appear to be telling fibs. He turned when he heard the cab door of the RV open.
“Tell everyone to step out of the vehicles!” He yelled to Michael.
The soldiers fanned out across the broken ground, their assault rifles at the ready. Their eyes were on the figures beside the vehicles and on the dark line of trees surrounding the clearing. They could almost taste the resistance in the air.
Michael walked up to the corporal. “I’m Doctor Michael Boulos.”
“Corporal Sean Cameron,” the uniformed man replied.
The two men continued to eyeball each other.
“Sir, are you in charge of this group?” Corporal Cameron asked in a brisk manner.
“I suppose so,” Michael replied.
“Can I ask you what you are doing out here?”
“I was going to ask you the same question,” Michael said. He did not care for the overbearing manner of the corporal, so he didn't feel like mincing his words.
“I ask the questions,” the corporal replied briskly. “You answer!”
Michael stared at the soldier.
“Like hell, you will!” He bellowed. “As if you'd even begin to know the right questions to ask in the first place! You are little more than a kid.”
Michael’s outburst caught him off guard, but Cameron after a moment’s hesitation he plunged onward.
“Sir—you need to do as I ask, right now! You know, it is very lucky for you that we came across your camper van. There's an army camp not far from this place. You will find shelter, water, and food there.”
“We are on our way to somewhere safe. I would appreciate you not holding us up any longer. Tell me, though—what kind of shelter are you talking about?”
“Hardtop houses,” the corporal said, his back stiffening.
Michael shook his head. “They're not going to be anywhere near substantial enough to be called shelters.”
“From meteoroids you mean?” The corporal asked him. “The area where we have our camp has never been hit by a meteoroid.”
Michael stared at the man in disbelief. “You really are young.”
He looked past the corporal as the second carrier pulled to a stop beside the first.
Sergeant Terry MacKay stepped out of the cab and hammered on the side of the Bushmaster with the edge of his fist. Eight soldiers dropped to the ground from the rear.
As the troops grouped at the back of the Bushmaster, some glanced up at the darkening cloud mass above, and they were not comforted by what they saw.
MacKay scanned the RV and ambulance, taking in the expressions on the faces, looking for signs of potential trouble.
“Corporal, find seats for the oldest in the back of the Bushies. The youngest can sit on their bags on the deck as usual. Check that no one is armed. We don't want any surprises.”
“Yes, Sergeant,” the corporal said.
MacKay pointed at the ambulance. “This vehicle looks useful. Assign two of your men to it.”
The sergeant turned to Michael. “Are you the leader of this group?”
“Yes, I am Michael Boulos.”
The sergeant didn't bother to shake the offered hand. “Hey, you!” Cameron gestured to Darren who was still standing beside the ambulance. “Get over to the RV with the rest of them.”
But Darren was frozen to the spot. He found himself suddenly stricken with the turn of events and unsure quite what he was going to do next.
“Move it, man!” Cameron barked at him and watched Darren walk quickly to the RV.
The sergeant glared at Michael. “Is there any member of your group not accounted for? If we leave them behind, they won't fare too well.”
Michael stared back at the Sergeant. He hoped his eyes were giving nothing away, and he wondered where the hell Storm was hiding.
MacKay had caught the flicker in the astronomer's gaze.
“The unit will incapacitate the RV before they go. It'll be left good for temporary shelter, but not for much else. Anyone who remains in the forest has a bloody long walk ahead of them before they reach our camp or the town.”
Sergeant MacKay turned to watch Cameron offering his hand to Summer and Stella in an attempt to coax them down the steps of the RV.
A dog had squeezed past the woman and stood in the door of the truck. It jumped to the ground and stood off to the side of the corporal. Its posture was rigid and its head lowered. Even from where he stood, MacKay could see the raised hackles and bared fangs. When he heard the warning bark, he knew what was coming.
“Watch out, Corporal!” MacKay bellowed.
“I got it, Sarge,” Cameron said, placing his hand on Stella's shoulder as she took a step down. But, he had made the mistake of taking his eyes off the dog and that's when Champ launched into the air. The corporal stepped aside only just in time to escape the snapping jaws.
Champ landed on all four paws, and with a snarl, he spun around to come at the soldier once more.
Cameron had pulled his sidearm. He stood his ground, firing off three shots in quick succession.
Champ yelped and wheeled in a tight circle, biting at his side before he collapsed on the ground. He whimpered and lifted his head to lick the oozing blood making a sticky mess of his coat.
Summer reached the dog before the corporal could draw a bead on the animal's head. She crouched down and gathered the dog up in her arms, rocking as its four legs pumped the air.
Champ was taking his last run on a road only he could see.
“Move out of the way!” Cameron told her.
Storm stepped from behind the ambulance and strode toward the corporal, ignoring the soldiers and their guns. The rifle was almost hidden, held tight to his side until he was midway between the two vehicles.
“Drop your gun, you fucking asshole!” Storm said in a guttural voice he never knew he had.
“Where the hell did you come from?” Cameron asked in astonishment, staring at the rifle leveled at his chest.
“You are a bastard!” Storm said simply and brought the rifle up to his cheek, his finger tightening on the trigger. If the corporal were a rabbit, Storm would have put him down already.
Sergeant MacKay turned to Michael. “Why didn't you tell me, man?” He hollered across the clearing at Storm. “Lay your weapon at your feet and step back from it!”
Storm took another step forward. “When he puts his down first.”
“Storm, we are not going to do this,” Michael called out in desperation.
Cameron turned his hand sideways and held up his sidearm. With great care, he placed it on the ground and straightened up. “See, I've done what you asked. Now, you should put your weapon down.”
“This fucking Ned Kelly is as good as dead, Corporal,” a soldier muttered menacingly.
Michael brushed his way between the line of soldiers and raised rifles.
“Come on, Storm,” he said. “Put the rifle down. Don't do this.”
“Storm, remember what Dad said to us?” Summer said reaching out to her brother.
“What was that, Sum?” Storm said, not taking his eyes away from Cameron.
“Don't take stupid risks,” she said. “You don't take risks when you have a choice.”
“How do we know they are not going to shoot us, anyway?”
Fingers tightened on triggers.
As if in response, the daylight seemed to flicker, and then it dimmed. The shadows melting into one another.
Champ would have alerted them all to what was about to happen, but he lay still in the grass.
A gust of wind smacked into the surrounding trees, sending branches together in a great clatter. The hue of their surroundings, the reflections off the vehicles and guns, and
even the color of the forest shifted a moment beforehand.
It happened with terrible suddenness. The upper atmosphere ripped away from the planet with the squeal of a million banshees shrieking in unison. The sky unzipped from the sides to the center to reveal a jet-black firmament studded with bright objects.
They saw a planet the size of the Moon, but it was the color of burnt orange. To the North and high in the sky. The great ball glowed as if it was surrounded by an aura. There were other objects too, like bright stars, but further out, bigger than the stars any pair of eyes staring up had seen before. As the sky continued to pull back, the horizon shimmered like a mirage in the desert.
They held their hands to their ears, barely able to process what they saw and heard. No one, not even Michael, registered the three black dots passing on the slightest of diagonals across the planet's burnt surface.
More than the objects, it was the sudden revelation of a night sky that rooted them to where they stood, unable to move. It was the sheer shock of night arrive in the middle of the day.
The clatter of a gun hitting the ground brought MacKay to his senses.
“Soldier, pick up your weapon!”
The stunned man flinched, but he didn't turn his head away from the night sky.
“Look at me,” MacKay barked. The sergeant felt the panic that was spreading like a wave through the troops and knew Private Jones was at its very center.
The terrified man turned to his commanding officer, slack-jawed and making strange sounds. It took several long seconds before scooped his gun from the ground. All the while he held the stare of the sergeant.
MacKay's voice was husky with emotion and it shook. “Get your people into the Bushies,” he said to Michael. “There's room enough for all of you.”
But Michael was paying the man no attention at all. He could not believe his own eyes. He knew he was looking up at the location of the Dark Star. The shimmering was, in fact, a manifestation of the event horizon that had hidden the thing for so long. And now it seemed the Dark Star had chosen this moment to reveal itself.
MacKay shook Michael's arm. “Snap out of it, man!” But even the sergeant couldn't help himself and he turned to look back. His hand dropped to his side, and the hairs on his neck stood on end. “The sky's on fire.”
Jubilee Year Page 22