Storm

by D. J. MacHale

  I read, “Yconomus. A ‘guardian.’”

  I looked at her and added, “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Put it together like it was English. These guardians obediently protect us from the gates of hell.”

  I let the concept roll around in my head for a few seconds. “So SYLO thinks they’re protecting the world from falling through the gates of hell?”

  “Or guarding the gates of hell so they don’t open up.”

  “Bull,” I snapped. “You don’t protect people by imprisoning them and killing them.”

  “Unless they were guarding against something even worse,” Tori countered.

  “Are you serious?” I asked, incredulous. “They chased us down. Granger tried to kill us. He killed your father. How is that justified?”

  “I don’t know,” Tori cried, shaking with emotion. “But there has to be some explanation for what’s happening. Feit said SYLO was putting us on a road to destruction. Do we believe that?”

  “From what I’ve seen? Sure.”

  “Feit’s a liar!”

  “They’re murderers, Tori. Did you forget how they strafed the rebel camp? And then tried to incinerate us with a flamethrower?”

  “Feit said half of the rebels were his infiltrators.”

  “They shot you, Tori. Let me say that again. They . . . shot . . . you. What is it about any of this that makes you think they were trying to protect us?”

  “Because they didn’t wipe out three-quarters of the world’s population.”

  “Okay, so they’re less bad than the Air Force. Good for them.”

  “What if SYLO knew what the Air Force was planning? What if they took over Pemberwick Island to protect it?”

  “Protect it?” I shouted. “By cutting us off from the outside world and killing people who tried to leave? That’s not exactly heroic.”

  “But the Navy was shooting the black planes out of the sky.”

  “Sure they were,” I countered. “SYLO set up a base on Pemberwick. They were protecting their own butts. The Air Force wasn’t attacking a bunch of lobstermen and rich yacht people, they were going after SYLO. SYLO brought the war to our door.”

  “Yeah, and the Air Force brought it everywhere else. It was the Air Force that killed Quinn, remember?”

  “Because SYLO brought them to the island. Those robot planes might have done the deed, but SYLO was just as guilty. They’re all guilty.”

  We were getting nowhere.

  “I’m not sticking up for the Air Force,” I said. “Or whoever is commanding them. But I’m not letting SYLO off the hook. Or Granger. You may be able to put all that aside, but I can’t.”

  “Granger’s dead,” Tori said flatly.

  “Yeah. Granger’s dead. I hope.”

  We both backed off to take a breath and cool down.

  “I’m going to Nevada tomorrow,” Tori declared. “If you want revenge as much as you say, you’ll come with me.”

  “Check with me in the morning.”

  Tori stared at me for a good long time, as if debating whether or not to say something.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I need you, Tucker,” she finally said. “I’ve never said that to anybody before. Not even my father.”

  It was exactly what I wanted to hear . . . and the last thing I needed to know.

  “I love you, Tori,” I replied.

  I don’t know why I said that. It just came out. Maybe it was because I wanted to avoid going down the road she had just put us on. It was a road that would mean a commitment for us to stay together. That was a promise I couldn’t make. Or maybe it was because I meant it, because I did. I loved Tori, though I didn’t know what kind of love it was. She had become my closest friend in the world. I would do anything for her. I guess I wanted her to know that.

  She leaned over and gave me a hug. It wasn’t all romantic or anything. It was more of a way to show how close we were. It felt good.

  “I love you too,” she said. “I’ve never said that to anybody either.”

  With that, she backed off and left me to wrestle with my own confused feelings. I wished I could say that I wanted nothing more than to be together with Tori. After all we had been through, we had developed a bond that went beyond friendship. Maybe even beyond love. We owed our lives to each other. If not for Tori, I wouldn’t have survived. It’s as simple as that. She could say the same thing about me. We may have argued and disagreed, and having Olivia as a wild card in the mix didn’t make things any easier, but the bottom line was that ever since things started to hit the fan on Pemberwick Island, we took care of each other. In spite of her occasional anger and disappointment in me, I fully believed that she couldn’t imagine going on without me.

  I felt the same way, except that I did have to imagine going on without her. I wanted us to stay together, but there was something I wanted even more, and if I truly loved her, I was going to have to betray her to get it.

  I looked back at the dictionary and the entry for yconomus. A guardian. I didn’t buy that SYLO was guarding anything but their own skins, but Tori’s thinking wasn’t entirely wrong. SYLO was guarding Pemberwick Island. I’d bet they were guarding Fort Knox too, based on the Air Force wrecks outside the base. The question was why? Why did this war happen in the first place? What was truly at stake?

  As I sat there in the dark, I felt more certain than ever that I was about to make the right move. I was tired of guessing and speculating and wondering. I wanted answers.

  And I wanted revenge.

  The one thing I didn’t want was to put Tori and the others in danger. I couldn’t live with that. I had to hope that they would understand. That Tori would understand.

  I joined the others in the children’s section of the library. Everyone was lying on the floor, having fixed small nests of pillows. Kent was already snoring. Jon was reading a book. Olivia had her eyes closed, but she was humming a sweet song that I didn’t recognize. Tori was lying flat with her face to the wall. I didn’t think for a second that she was asleep.

  I grabbed a few cushions and found an empty spot near the door that led back to the lobby. I sat down and made myself comfortable . . . but not too comfortable. I didn’t want to fall asleep. After about an hour, Jon turned off his headlamp. I waited another fifteen minutes, then I stood and walked quietly through the room, hovering over each of my friends, trying to see if they were asleep.

  Kent was sawing wood. Olivia had stopped singing and was lying with her mouth open and drooling. Yes, even hot girls drooled. Jon was breathing heavily. I padded softly to Tori and took a big chance.

  “Tori?” I whispered.

  She didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure what I would have said if she’d rolled over and answered me.

  “I’m sorry” were my last words to her.

  With everyone asleep, I had my chance. I walked quickly back to the area where I had been lying and put on my hoodie and cross-trainers. I thought about grabbing my gear bag but decided I wouldn’t need it. There was something else I needed much more.

  I padded back to Tori and gently picked up her gym bag. After backing away a few steps, I reached inside and rooted around until I found the gun. I pulled it out and carefully returned the bag.

  Quickly, I backed out of the room and into the lobby. There would be no turning back. I was committed. The next minute was crucial. I had to get out of there without the others knowing.

  I hurried through the lobby and pushed open the front door of the library as quietly as possible. After slipping outside, I gently eased the door shut until I heard the faint click of the lock. As soon as I heard it, I realized I had made a potentially fatal mistake: I didn’t have the keys to the Explorer. How could I have been so stupid? I wasn’t even sure where Kent kept them. If they were in his pocket and he was wearing his jeans, I was done.

  I ran to the Explorer in the hopes that Kent had left them in the ignition. I grabbed the door handle, took a breath, and pulled it open t
o see . . . the keys.

  I didn’t stop to celebrate. The steady chime that rang to signal that the key was in the ignition might be heard from inside. I jumped into the car and quietly pulled the door closed. I sat there in the dark for several long seconds with my eyes on the front door of the library, expecting somebody to come charging out after me.

  The door stayed shut. I had made it that far without being discovered, but the next few seconds were the most critical. It was dead silent. The sound of an engine starting up would be heard for miles. I would have to be out of there and on the road before anyone woke up and came to investigate.

  My palms were sweating, and my heart raced. I was absolutely confident in my decision, though it meant I was betraying my friends. Especially Tori. She had opened herself up in a way she never had before to admit that she needed me, and my response was to take off on her. Since our escape from Pemberwick Island, I had been trying to convince everyone that unless we could rely on one another, we were doomed. I was about to go against all that I had been preaching. My justification was that I didn’t want to put them in danger because of my personal mission. By going alone, I was actually protecting them.

  That’s what I told myself, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was abandoning them. Whether it was smart or not, the group looked to me for guidance. It wasn’t a job I asked for or wanted, but it was mine anyway. With me gone, there would be nothing to keep them together. Tori would go to Nevada. Olivia and Kent would probably go to Florida. Who knew what Jon would do?

  My leaving meant they would be on their own.

  I hated that it had come to that, but it didn’t stop me from doing what I had to do.

  I fired up the engine, jammed the car into gear, and gently stepped on the gas. I didn’t want to skid out, slinging gravel. That would have brought people running. Instead, I rolled slowly out of the parking lot with the headlights off.

  Before turning onto the main road, I glanced in the rearview mirror.

  The library doors remained closed. I had made my escape. It was time to stop looking back, clear my head, and focus on my plan.

  After traveling halfway across the country, my driving skills had gotten way better. Still, it was tough to navigate without headlights. I didn’t dare turn them on, though. Moving headlights would be seen from miles away—and from the sky.

  Once on the road, I realized my second mistake. I had forgotten the map. Idiot! I had to get my head out of my butt and start thinking a few steps ahead or I’d be done before I got started. I drove from memory, retracing the route we had taken from Fort Knox to the library. Luckily there weren’t a whole lot of roads or choices to make. I drove north until I hit the intersection we had taken earlier and turned east. This road would take me back to the wide track of dirt that surrounded Fort Knox.

  The SYLO base.

  When my wheels finally hit the dirt of the dry moat, I drove another few minutes until I arrived at the first of the long hangar-like buildings we had passed earlier. I guessed it would be another half mile or so before I hit the road the convoy of trucks used to cross the dirt moat. I didn’t want to drive the final stretch. That would be too risky. The rest of the trip would have to be on foot, so I braked to a stop.

  When I opened the car door, I spotted something in the door’s storage area. It was one of the walkie-talkies we had taken from the store in Portland. I grabbed it, though I can’t say why. I sure didn’t need it. Who would I call? Maybe it meant I wasn’t ready to admit that I would never see my friends again. It was a comfort. A small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. I clipped it onto my belt and started walking.

  Jon’s theory sounded right. SYLO must have cleared the area so that they could detect anything approaching the base. For all I knew the stretch was littered with land mines. I put that gruesome thought out of my head and pressed on.

  My heart was racing so fast that I traveled the distance in next to no time. I kept my eyes on the dirt track but tried to be aware of any movement that might mean I’d been spotted. I didn’t know what I’d do if I was attacked by SYLO soldiers. Run, I guess. But to where? By the time I’d gone through all the possibilities, I spotted the dark streak that was the road into the fog. I crept up to the closest building and crouched down at the base of its wall. From there I could see both ends of the road. One end stretched back toward the burned-out buildings and field of plane wrecks, the other disappeared into the wall of white smoke.

  Up until then everything had gone perfectly, but it was the only part of my plan I had control over. The rest would be left to fate. Or luck. Since the days had grown short, we had turned in early at the library. It was only a few minutes past nine o’clock. That was good. For me to succeed, I needed it dark. If I had to wait until daybreak, I was done. All I could do was wait and be patient . . . and hope that I hadn’t made a huge mistake.

  Though it was dark, I could still make out the sheer wall of smoke that lay at the end of the road. What would I find in there?

  These guardians obediently protect us from the gates of hell.

  SYLO.

  Murderers.

  I wanted the truth. I wanted answers, though I didn’t expect them to be comforting. There would be no happy ending to this story. Not after so much tragedy. The most I could hope for was understanding.

  And revenge.

  I don’t know how long I waited there. Maybe an hour. I was huddled down to try to keep warm against the evening chill when I saw light appear and reflect off the road in front of me. I instantly went from drowsy to hyperalert.

  Something was coming from the direction of the scorched buildings.

  The distant rumble meant it was a truck. I peered around the building to see headlights. It was another convoy—exactly what I’d hoped for. The most dangerous and foolish part of my plan was about to unfold. When the time came, I would have to make a quick decision and hope it wasn’t a fatal one.

  When the first truck rolled by, my heart jumped. It was a huge garbage truck with the SYLO logo painted on its front door. My luck was holding. The next truck rolled by. It was the exact same type as the first. I looked back to see four more sets of headlights. The sanitation division had arrived to clean up the camp.

  Ever since we learned about the possibility of survivors gathering in Nevada to try to fight back, we had wondered if a group of civilians could really make a difference. We were kidding ourselves. We wanted to believe it was possible. It wasn’t. As noble as it sounded, I had no doubt that a rebel army, no matter how driven, would be crushed like helpless ants under the heavy boots of two professional armies.

  I didn’t want to be a crushed ant.

  I wanted to be a single bee that nobody saw coming—and that did some damage.

  I examined each of the trucks as they rolled by. It was dark so I couldn’t be 100 percent sure, but I thought I saw what I needed. If I was wrong, I’d have to crawl back to my hiding spot and wait for another chance. If I was right, the game was on.

  The final truck had nearly reached me. I would have a quick second to decide whether to go or not. I looked around to see if there was any security. There wasn’t, at least not that I could tell. The last truck was nearly there. After a final glance around for anyone who might be looking my way, I put my head down and sprinted for it.

  The garbage parade was moving fast. I had to calculate the angle and hit it on the first try, like chasing down an open-field runner in football. I ran for where the truck would be when I got there.

  When I was a few yards away, I reached out for the metal handle that was on the right rear of the massive garbage bin. Below it was a small platform. It was a place for sanitation workers to ride as they made multiple stops.

  I dug in and hurtled forward while reaching out. For one brief, terrifying second I thought I’d miss it. There would be no second chance. I leaned forward, willing my fingers to grow longer. With one final burst of speed, I grabbed on and wrapped my fingers around the metal bar. I pulle
d myself forward and half jumped, half yanked myself up onto the small platform.

  My heart was pounding and my lungs ached, but I was on and headed for the fog.

  There was no telling what I would find in there. If soldiers were checking the trucks, it would be a short ride. I reached to my lower back and felt Tori’s gun. If somebody caught me with that, there’d be no talking my way out of it. I’d be dead.

  I knew the risk, but I needed the gun.

  We rumbled across the narrow roadway, growing closer to the wall of smoke.

  I would soon learn whether we had heard a recorded voice coming from that drone plane, or if Captain Granger had returned from the dead.

  If he had, I was about to send him back.

  That was my mission.

  I would get my revenge.

  The truck approached the white wall, and seconds later I was enveloped in the cloud of smoke.

  EIGHTEEN

  The trucks slowed down and crept through fog that was so dense I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. I listened intently for any sound other than the rumble of the truck engines, but heard nothing. We rolled along for a minute or two before I began to sense shapes through the smoke. My first thought was that I was seeing large statues. The dark objects weren’t uniform and didn’t seem to have any straight lines. The smallest was the size of a truck; the largest looked like it had solid beams that jutted skyward for thirty feet. I strained to see what they might be and noticed other, smaller shadows moving past them . . . shapes I recognized.

  People.

  The fog thinned, and visibility grew. I could make out people in groups of two, apparently sauntering along casually with no particular destination in mind. I imagined that they might be couples out for an evening stroll through a sculpture garden.

  The smoke cleared further, and I realized I couldn’t have been more wrong.

  The strolling couples wore red camouflage military fatigues with dark red berets: the uniform of SYLO. The green-and-yellow rising-sun patches on their berets and their shoulders confirmed it. I was back in the center of a nest of SYLO vipers . . . who had assault weapons slung over their shoulders.