I can’t believe we are having this conversation at all; we are talking about Dinosaurs, temperature changes, aliens. Blood rushes through my body, and a loud whooshing sound in my ears tunes everything else out. Dizziness makes me sway for a moment before I shake my head to clear it and take another big sip from the cold water, which helps to ground me. After a deep intake of breath, I’m ready to follow the conversation again. Albeit reluctantly. How much more can my brain take before it shuts down on information overload?
Dunn continues to answer Martin’s questions: “We can only apply conjecture to their intentions.” He shrugs. “Could be easier cleanup, one dinosaur can kill hundreds of people, cleaning up one dead dinosaur is simpler than a hundred people.”
“Or perhaps they only use the plants to supercharge a temperature spike and stop at one hundred and twenty degrees. Uncomfortable for humans, sure, but it wouldn’t necessarily kill us, not all of us, not right away. Over time possibly. Or our species could evolve. Your guess is as good as mine on this.”
I get his point, and so do Martin and Blake, it seems, as Martin rises. The professor is right; at this point, all we can do is speculate. Martin holds out his hand towards the professor. “Thank you, Professor Dunn; I appreciate it.”
“No, thank you. This was a once in a lifetime study experience. If you find any more plants or animals or anything, please, bring them by.”
“We don’t know for sure if this turkey thingy really is a hespo….hesper…whatever right?” I ask.
“Hesperonychus elizabethae. We are waiting on the DNA testing, yes.” Astrid confirms. “But we are ninety-nine percent sure it is.”
“I sent some men out hunting professor; we can’t have those things run around and attack people.” Martin looks at the professor.
“What is the likelihood of this dinosaur thing to be the only one of its kind being sicced on us?”
Professor Dunn shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders. “Not very likely.”
I swallow another lump down. “So, do you think they’ll have T-rexes run around soon or already?” My voice projects my apprehension.
Again, the professor shrugs. “My guess is as good as yours.”
Chapter 19
My dreams are tortured by images of flames. Houses are burning; woods are on fire, animals, and people scream in my dreams as they are being consumed alive by fire. With a start, I sit up. I’m bathed in sweat. Everything is dark; there is not even a glow from my nightlight coming from the adjoining bathroom. Also missing is the hum of the air conditioner.
I try the light on my nightstand—nothing, same with the switch by the door. I reach for my phone and turn on the flashlight app before making my way downstairs.
Murmuring voices draw me into the kitchen, where I find Blake and his dad sitting by the kitchen island. Both are shirtless, and both are soaked in sweat as well.
“Power’s out.” Martin greets me with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. I can tell he is worried.
“I called the power company and James. Power is out all over town, but they are working on it.” he catches me up.
I open the fridge to grab a still cold-water bottle. Within minutes the bottle starts to sweat. I drink it down greedily. “How hot is it?” I ask.
“Almost a hundred,” Blake says after a glance at his phone.
“Splendid.” I huff and sit down next to him.
A comfortable silence ensues between us until I ask, “The government has to know about all this, right?”
The glance Martin and Blake exchange is telling. They must have already discussed this in detail. “Most likely.” Martin shrugs.
“And they are not telling us because….” I let my sentence hang for them to fill in the blanks because I’m fresh out of ideas.
Again, Martin shrugs. “To prevent panic, anarchy?”
“To keep in power.” Blake puts in.
“Probably,” Martin admits. “But honestly, I think they are just trying to keep civilization together for as long as possible.” He gives me a speculative look. “I called Colin home; he should be here tonight or tomorrow.”
“Why?” I’m honestly surprised.
“Great, didn’t he just barely escape his desertion charges?” Blake asks.
“We need to leave,” Martin states simply.
“And go where?” I wonder out loud, pressing the cold bottle against my clammy skin.
“I think Alaska might be a good option,” Martin informs me.
Before I can object, he continues hastily. “You heard Sven and Astrid; they said the temperatures vary by location.”
“Shouldn’t we do some reconnaissance before we make such a drastic move?” I ask a little sarcastically, but also proud of being able to use my newly acquired military jargon.
“What do you suggest? All the social media outlets are heavily censored, nobody knows anything, and even if they do, like us, they can’t share the information.”
I smile mischievously. “Yes, we can.”
“By all means, I’m all ears, kiddo.” Both Martin and Blake wait expectantly for me to continue.
“You of all people should know Martin.” I rub in. “Aren’t you of the great generation of the actual phone call?” I sigh when I realize they still don’t get what I’m driving at.
“Let’s just start calling people, random people in random states, exchange information the old-fashioned way. Don’t you have some old army buddies you can talk to?”
“Genius.” Martin hops up and hugs me, and for once, I don’t mind.
“I’ll get on it while you guys are in school. And since there is nothing better to do, let’s get the others and start training.”
I moan loudly. “It’s two o’clock in the morning.”
“Got anything better to do?”
I think about it. I like training, and even though it’s hot outside, I know I need every minute of it I can get. Plus, since it’s hot, I won’t be able to sleep anyway.
“I’m in.” I groan.
“Tell you what, tell your friends to meet us at the beach; we can hop in the water to cool down.”
What sounded absolutely heavenly and enticing soon turns out to be torture in a different way. We don’t so much as just hop in the water. He has us run in it and then practice hand to hand combat in the knee-deep ocean while dodging the waves that decided today to show up again.
But I’m not complaining; it could be worse; it’s sweltering out, even this early in the morning. Cicadas make themselves known with their loud buzzing sounds, and the crickets chirp, adding to the cacophony of noise.
It’s still dark; the moon and stars cast eerie shadows on the water and around us. It would be pretty if it didn’t feel like the calm before the storm. The air seems almost electrically charged, although there is not a cloud in the sky.
After two hours, Martin lets us take a water break, and we lay exhausted on the warm sand. I use this opportunity to get more information from him.
“So, what happened to the fishermen? Any word on that?”
Martin stares out over the dark ocean and shakes his head. “Nothing. People are afraid to go out and search.”
“Afraid of what?”
He shrugs. “Damned, if I know. I doubt they do either. It’s just a feeling….”
He trails off, and I get it. It’s the same feeling I have. Something is coming. I shudder and play with the warm sand between my fingers before asking the next question.
“What about the hunting party? Anything?”
“James, Sheriff Donovan, got some men together. They’ve been scouring the woods in the area. They haven’t seen or found anything, but it’s only been a day.”
I try to play my next question casually like the answer doesn’t matter to me. “So, about Colin, are you still going to ask him to desert again and come home?”
He gives me a mocking, arched brow, informing me that I’m not fooling him, so I turn my eyes down to the sand in my hands and pre
tend it’s something important.
“Since when are you interested in Colin? I thought you two were like cats and dogs.” Martin pushes.
“I’m not… I mean, yes, we are. I was just wondering about the whole Alaska thing.”
He chuckles and pats my back. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”
“There is no secret; I was just curious…. There’s nothing.” I sputter, and he laughs some more.
“Sure, ‘methinks the lady doth protest too much.’” He laughs.
Before I can kick him in the leg, he gets up. “To answer your questions, we’ll put Alaska on hold until we find out more using your brilliant phone campaign idea. And yes, Colin knows about what is going on, and I trust he will use his judgment on when to come home.”
I grumble and get to my feet too; I know the signal of ‘let’s get ready for round two.’
The rest of the day goes by like the day before. We do our school stuff, while the kids and many teachers still treat us like we are lepers. Nobody even tries to talk to us, and I notice most teachers turn uncomfortably away when I raise my hand to answer a question.
But at least we have air conditioning. A few years ago, the school installed solar panels all over the roof and the covered parking lot, an investment that seems to pay off now, since everybody else in town is still without electricity.
At lunch, we compare notes and try to figure out which one of us had the most awkward encounters; the football players win by a long shot.
“They are even afraid to tackle me.” Ace seems caught between amusement and hurt.
“Lucky, they won’t even give me the ball.” Jose takes a sip of his water.
“I think we should just quit the stupid team.” Cory muses. “We could use the time to train with Martin. Would be a lot more productive.”
The others agree, but I can tell that they are all hurt. Even though we laugh about it, being ostracized by your friends and peers gets to you after a while.
“Funny for you guys, maybe.” Caren pushes her plate away from her. “I don’t have any classes with any of you. I’m all alone.”
I rub her shoulder for a minute, showing her she isn’t completely alone. “At least you have us at lunch.”
She tries to put on a brave face, but looks utterly dejected, slumped in her chair. Maggie, on the other hand, stuffs some fries in her mouth and smiles broadly.
“Quit with the gloomy faces; I feel great. I don’t have to pretend with those stupid bitches anymore.” She points at the popular girls we used to hang out with.
“I have never felt freer. No more worries about what they are saying behind my back. Now it’s obvious.” She laughs happily, her face showing how relieved she is.
She grabs more fries. “I can eat without being judged, and with all this training, I don’t need to worry about the calories.”
I pop my lips and tilt my head thoughtfully. She does make some excellent points; I never thought about it that way. I watch her take more fries from Caren’s plate since hers are all gone. Then she reaches for Ty’s soda and empties the can with a loud “Ahhhh,” which makes Ty’s protest of a loud hey even more hilarious to us. We laugh harder, and I eat more fries.
“You know what, Maggs? Now I remember why you are my best friend. Your way of laying it out sounds much better.” I state happily.
Even Caren giggles and reaches for what’s left of her soggy potatoes after Maggie’s attack on them. “You’re right; I’m glad to be with you guys.”
“Hear, hear.” Eric raises his water bottle in a toast, and we follow, even though some of our drinks are empty.
“The freedom fighters.” Drew cheers, and the table turns quiet. He turns beet red and sits back down. “Sorry. Too much? Too soon?”
Ty claps him on the back. “Yeah, both.”
I lean back in my chair and notice how Blake has his arm slung around it. Little gestures like this seem to happen more and more recently, and I’m not sure anymore what to think about it. There was something between us during the California trip, but these days I see him more like a brother rather than anything else. He smiles at me, and I smile back, but I wonder if he has more than sisterly feelings for me, and I hope not.
I remember how his touch made my heart flutter during our California escape, but the flutter hasn’t been there in a while, not since we started training together with Martin. Probably because Martin is taking on the role of a father more and more, despite me fighting it. And consequently, Blake is turning more into a brother for me.
Or, perhaps there is something wrong with me because I felt the same way with Ryan before he started to show interest in me, and as soon as he did, I didn’t care anymore. I understand we have far greater problems to deal with at the moment, with the world going down in a handbasket and all. But after all, is said and done, I’m still a girl with girl emotions and desires. I vow to set some time aside for some girl talk with Maggie. She has already dated half the football team; if anybody has advice for me, it’s her.
A lot of whispering voices greet Blake and me when we enter the house. The second we leave the mudroom, we find out why. Twelve people are scattered around the living-family-dining room; some sit, others walk in lazy circles.
Blake and I exchange a confused look with each other while staring at the men and women, all friends and neighbors. Each one has notepads in their hands or in front of them, writing furiously while keeping up their conversations.
Blake gets it first; he grins and slaps me hard on the back of my shoulder. “This was your idea this morning, remember? Calling people? Dad doesn’t do anything half-assed.”
I make a face. “As long as he doesn’t expect us to join in.”
“How are my favorite phone marketers?” One of Martin’s arms snakes around me, the other around Blake. While Martin is standing in the middle, grinning broadly from ear to ear.
Slowly, I shake my head, trying to ward off this new, unexpected chore. “Oh no, we need to go to training.”
“And homework.” Blake pipes up. “Lots of homework.”
“Ah, you guys can spare a couple of hours for the cause and help your old man, can’t you?”
An awkward moment of silence falls between us at his words. Indirectly Martin just proclaimed himself our dad, implying that Blake and I are siblings, reminding me of my earlier thoughts.
On top of it all, I’m not sure how I feel about Martin in a father role for me, either. Everything seems so confusing. If he and my mom hadn’t done what they did, I would have gladly accepted him as a father figure after my dad’s death. But they did what they did, and it can’t be forgotten or undone.
They tore two families apart and caused a lot of pain. On the other side, after he and my mom got married, he did become my stepdad. Plus, he has done a lot for me lately—things he really didn’t have to do.
Maybe losing myself for a few hours to phone conversations wouldn’t be the worst idea. At least I wouldn’t have to think about all these confusing things any longer.
Martin and Blake stare at me as if I would bite them. I force myself to smile. “Sure. Whatever you need.”
I avoid eye contact, but I vow to be a nicer, bigger person. The person I wasn’t with my mom, which cost me dearly. I would give anything to make it up to her, and this seems like a good opportunity to do so. She loved Martin; I owe it to her -if not to him, to forget about the past. Let bygones be bygones and move on.
The next few hours go by quickly, and to my amazement, I’m actually enjoying myself. Many people hang up on me, but more are as eager to talk to me and exchange information as I’m. A few ramble on about government conspiracy theories, but most are just as bewildered as we are.
Dutifully I write everything they tell me down, from sightings of bigfoot to sasquatch, but my ears perk up when people mention strange plants and animals. Some even took pictures, which they are willing to send via text.
I share with them what we found out so far, and the m
ajority of people I talk to ask to be kept in the loop and want to stay in contact. A handful even promise to form a calling group like ours.
The camaraderie that forms between them and me amazes me. Strangers who have never even seen each other reach out to one another across state borders, political views, and religion. In this, we are united, and a lot of people are prepared to fight.
The incredible thing is that most of these people were strangers when I dialed their number -we are pretty much just cold calling, going through online phone books. Only a few are friends or acquaintances of friends we found through Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and various social websites.
A few hours later, I’m done, though. Mentally I’m exhausted, plus my fingers hurt from writing, my ears ring from listening, and my throat hurts from talking so much. I wonder how telemarketers do this for eight hours a day.
By six pm, the house is empty again. Martin shoves a partially defrosted pizza in the oven for us, and I’m more than ready for my bed. I’m exhausted. But at least the power came back on during the last hour, cooling the house down. And giving us time to bake the pizza. I wonder how the pie would have tasted if we were forced to make it on the barbeque, and I’m happy it turned out the way it did. All in all, I’m looking forward to a good night’s rest, well, at least until three. I’m sure Martin will be up bright and early and bushy-tailed.
Chapter 20
It’s hard to keep my eyes open during my algebra class. Miss Camuto is droning on about variances and numbers that are beyond my grasp at this point.
Turns out, the power was only on for about five hours before it shut off again, just enough to cool the house down for a little while before it slowly warmed up again. I woke up for the second night in a row -this time at one o’clock, bathed in sweat. Martin, never one to miss an opportunity to train, had Blake and me call our friends, and we met at the beach again.
The Rain | Part 1 | The Beginning Page 18