Dust to Dust: An Apocalyptic Thriller Page 6

  Tears pool in my eyes. I am so scared that I can hardly keep my emotions under control. Seeing the Octeres, the Seeds, the Cubes, and that odd murmuration, has turned my fear up to levels I never knew existed.

  What other kinds of technology do these aliens have? Or maybe the Seeds are life itself and not machines. The alien murmuration could be living organisms, mimicking birds.

  “Michael, we need to find bicycles.”

  “I’ve been looking out. A few cars had racks but no bikes, and I haven’t spotted a bike shop.”

  “Have you seen a sporting goods store? They may have bicycles or Walmart.”

  Michael quietly chastises himself. “I didn’t even think about that. There was a store back in Glen Allen. I was so damn focused on a bicycle shop. I didn’t think of anything else.”

  “It’s not just on you. I wasn’t thinking about other options either.”

  “Kris, I have to know something. It’s got nothing to do with finding bicycles, but what did you mean by Seed? Do you remember saying that?”

  “It’s the lightning spaceships.”

  “You gave those things a name?”

  “No, I talked to a lady back there. That’s what she called them. It’s because it looks like a pistachio, and a pistachio is a seed.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “A pistachio is a nut.”

  “I’m only telling you what she said. I’m not going to dispute fact or fiction.”

  “Whoever that lady was or is, she has no idea what she’s talking about. You can’t be talking to strangers, Kris.”

  “I only asked her a question. I didn’t ask her to walk me home. I didn’t get into her white van. She didn’t tempt me with a puppy or candy.”

  “Okay, Kris, I got it.”

  “We’ve talked about this before. I’m not a child.”

  “I’m not saying you are. I’m only trying to get across to you that people cannot be trusted. They will do anything and say anything, and we don’t know what their agendas are. We can’t trust anyone.”

  “Michael, I only asked her a question. There was absolutely no harm in her answer.”

  “Okay, you’re right. No harm done.”

  “And as far as I’m concerned, since you say a pistachio is a nut, you’re wrong. It’s a seed, and I’m done talking about it.”

  “Okay, Kris. It’s a seed.”

  “And stop being condescending. It pisses me off!”

  “That’s not my intention. I’m only looking out for you. I can’t help your perception.”

  I sigh, thinking I could be overly sensitive about everything he says. My blood pressure is off the charts. I cry at the blink of an eye now because I’m scared and emotional. I’m tired of walking and running. How many miles have we covered since this morning? That’s what really bothers me. Feels like we haven’t made any real progress. I know we’re beyond Richmond. Out of Glen Allen and in Ashland, but the Pennsylvania state line is a whole galaxy away when walking. I have to get my determination back. I need nerves of steel and a stone heart to make this trip but mostly to deal with my brother’s mouth.

  Suddenly, I spot a Macemp. It’s pierced the hood of a car. The thing still spins, and the ball floats on top of the rod. The vehicle is a burned out shell. Skeletal remains are in the front seats. Michael and I keep a wide girth, walking the grass patch on the side of the road. We don’t look back.

  C H A P T E R

  13

  Dry cereal by itself is quite a treat, but it’s not filling me up. A bacon cheeseburger, hot fries, and a cola would be delicious right about now.

  “What will we eat in the bunker?” I ask.

  “There’s a garden. So, you’ll be able to have a salad if you want.”

  “In the caves?”

  “It’s all high-tech down there. You’ll see.”

  “What about drinks?”

  “They’ll be water, coffee, tea, sodas. Anything you like.”

  “Alcohol?”

  “Yes,” Michael answers. “Got that too.”

  “What am I expected to do while I’m there? What are you going to do?”

  “We’re going to survive.”

  “There’s more to life than just surviving. Every morning we have to get up and do something. What is that supposed to be?”

  “You’ll figure it out. As for me, I’m going to be in charge of security. I’ll be keeping everybody safe.”

  “You guys have it all figured out.”

  “Except I didn’t consider that I would be in Richmond during an alien invasion.”

  “Michael, I’m going to be perfectly honest with you. I’m not a creative person. I’m not a teacher or a doctor or a chef. I’m an adjustment clerk for a credit card company. I work with dollars and cents, digital ones and zeros. What good is that in a bunker?”

  “When you get settled, you’ll figure out where you’re needed. Stop worrying over something that’s not worth it.”

  “I don’t want to be a burden. I don’t want to be the one person who takes with nothing to give in return.”

  “You won’t be a burden if you choose not to. Stop worrying. If anything, I’ll put you on my security team. You know how to handle a weapon.”

  “You’d really let me work with you?” I ask with total disbelief.

  “What did you tell me earlier? ‘I’m not a child, Michael. I’m not two years old, Michael.’ Yes, I think those are your exact words.”

  “You listened? I’m impressed.”

  “I always listen to you, Sis.”

  I finish the cereal and brush the crumbs off my hands. “Michael, do you guys have ice cream in the bunker?”

  “You say you’re not two. Yet, you’re asking about ice cream.”

  “That’s right. I’m asking about a dessert that adults eat too. So answer my question, smart ass.”

  “If we don’t have it, it can be made.”

  “I love ice cream.”

  “Overrated. The cold gives you headaches, and it makes your teeth hurt. Worst part, it adds pounds where you don’t need it.”

  “Maybe, you’re right.” I shove my hands in my pockets and yawn sleepily.

  It’s late in the afternoon, but the sun hasn’t set. Another two to three hours, it’ll be dark.

  “You know what I’m going to miss?” Michael says, far away in thought.

  “Towing people’s cars?”

  “Definitely going to miss that,” he laughs. “No, but seriously, I’m going to miss watching sports, especially football.”

  “The aliens could leave someday. We could begin again.”

  “No, there is no beginning again.”

  “Have you thought about the possibility of the aliens finding the bunker, and what they’ll do?”

  “Of course I have. It’s the first thought that came to mind when I heard the reports early this morning. Last I heard, though, a few of the guys were there, and everything was clear. That was before we saw the Seeds. There’s no telling now.”

  “What will we do if the bunker is destroyed?”

  “If it’s gone when we get there, then I’ll have to figure something else out.”

  “It’s a real possibility, Michael.”

  “I’m well aware. Better believe it.”

  “I’m not trying to scare you, not that I could if I tried, but I feel like we’re doing this for nothing. I feel like we’re going to show up at the caves, and your friends will be dead or missing. Everything will be ruined by the aliens, and we won’t have any place to go.”

  “The possibilities you speak of could be something we have to face, but let’s hope and pray we don’t.” Michael huffs and adjusts his shoulders. “We have to find someplace to sleep tonight.”

  Oh no. I haven’t thought about that.

  C H A P T E R

  14

  Ruther Glen, Virginia

  We call it a day at a turnoff along the road. We’ve seen See
ds hover over different areas. They didn’t rotate or respond to our movement, but it wasn’t like we were out in the open walking by them. We hid behind buildings or went through the woods, if any were nearby. It worked, but it’s an uneasy feeling knowing there were Seeds a stone’s throw away. When we saw the Macemps, we kept our distance. There were times we saw dead bodies obviously killed by the devices. I tried not to look. I’ve seen too much death as it is.

  We’ve found a spot with no view of the alien objects. I sit with my legs crossed at the edge of the woods. Highway One is in front of me with a single abandoned pickup truck. Michael rumbles through the bed. I have no idea what he’s looking for. He jumps out of it with nothing in his hands.

  Joining me, he lays down, using his backpack as a pillow. The snacks he acquired back in Glen Allen are crushed by now, I’m sure. Michael begins to sing. It’s one of those cadence songs used in the Army during their company run events. He told me about how hundreds of soldiers would be in formation, running and singing. He misses the camaraderie. I imagine there’s nothing else like it in the world. I wonder if I would have liked serving in the Army. No, honestly, I’m not good at following orders.

  “Do you think Goodie made it?” I ask, taking off my shoes.

  “No, but I think he’s close.”

  “I know he was worried about his family, but I think he used the Cubes as an excuse to leave.”

  “If you’re going to blame me next, I don’t want to hear it. I’m going to sleep.”

  Well, it is Michael’s fault, but even if my brother was nice and welcoming to Goodie the whole time, the man would have taken off anyway. Family is family, and that’s all one has in times like these.

  I look up at the darkening sky. The stars seem brighter than usual. The wind blows a little. It feels nice with the sun not bearing down on us.

  “We should walk at night instead of during the day,” I suggest.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “The aliens are not as active. People will be sleeping. We can put a lot more miles behind us. What do you think?”

  “We would need flashlights and batteries. I don’t have any.”

  I’m about to ask Michael if they would actually work when I hear something. It’s a buzzing sound, coming from everywhere. I listen. It doesn’t sound like flies or bees. The buzzing is mechanical, almost like a steady tone. The wind shifts suddenly. The sound is louder now.

  “Michael…”

  “Kris, go to sleep.” He shifts to his side, turning his back to me.

  I stand up. Something is coming, but I can’t see what it is. The dark woods aren’t revealing any of its secrets. I can see the pickup truck, but nothing else beyond it.

  Something just went up my nose and got stuck in my throat! I can’t breathe! I grab my neck and try coughing. It’s not working. What is going on? I fall to my knees, fighting for sweet air. I’m getting weaker, and I’m losing consciousness.

  I try to ask for Michael’s help, but my voice is gone. The air won’t break through to my lungs. Desperate, I try to latch onto him, but he’s not there. I don’t see him, and I don’t hear him. Where is he?

  Suddenly, I convulse, violently at first, but then just as quickly, my muscles lock up. It’s like my whole body is getting strangled. The pain is so excruciating. I want to die to make it end. I’ve never felt like this before, never experienced so much pain at once. Hot tears pour down my face. How long must this go on? What is happening to me? I can’t take it anymore. I can’t…

  DAY TWO

  C H A P T E R

  15

  A cloudy sky greets me when I open my eyes. It’s raining, a warm summer sprinkle. I sit up, wondering why I’m outside. Did I go camping yesterday and totally forgot? I don’t like the outdoors. I haven’t camped a day in my life. Where the hell is my apartment, and why am I not in it? Annoyed, I stand up. Gross! I’m barefoot in the mud. Where the hell are my shoes? What is going on?

  Michael sits on the ground with his hand on his head. He moans. We must have gotten drunk last night, and one of his stupid friends dumped us in the middle of nowhere. Our car is gone. There’s a truck in the middle of the road with no driver in it, but who in the world would do something that idiotic?

  “Michael, get up!” My throat hurts from yelling at him. I speak softer this time. “Where are we?”

  Of course, he doesn’t answer. I know he’s responsible.

  Then it hits me. I remember how we got here, and I understand why we’re not home. The world changed yesterday. The Octeres arrived in Richmond. The Macemps took away the power and our ability to use electronics. The Seeds disintegrated buildings and people. The Cubes and the mimicking flocks of objects in the sky, I don’t know what any of those do. I remember clearly. Aliens invaded us, but we haven’t seen one yet. We escaped Richmond safely, now on our way to a bunker that was built in the caves of the Allegheny National Forest by my brother and his friends.

  But something is missing in my memory. I don’t know where we are, and I don’t remember falling asleep.

  Michael suddenly heaves his guts. Clear fluid and blood drip out of his mouth. I watch in horror, not knowing what to do.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, cringing. It’s a stupid question. Of course, he’s not okay.

  He fumbles for his backpack, struggles to unzip the main pouch. I try to help him, but he swats my hand away. I step back, nearly falling from being unsteady on my feet, to let him work through what he’s trying to do. His hands shake. Unzipping the bag proves to be impossible. I can’t let him fight a simple task. This is not my brother. Even when he’s sick, he’s a champion.

  “Let me help you,” I tell him.

  Too exhausted to stop me, Michael slumps onto the ground. The moisture from the mud stains his pants, but he doesn’t care and doesn’t even notice.

  I find it hard to unzip the bag too. My hands shake just as bad as his. Squeezing them, I inhale one long draw and exhale slow. Feeling confident I can do it this time, I try again. I’m successful. Michael nods as a thanks. Bloody spit streams from his mouth. I notice something around his right ear as he takes out a small hand rag from the backpack. The skin around and on his right ear is dark. The discoloration follows the veins under the skin mostly on his neck.

  “Michael, you’ve got a…a rash of some kind.”

  “Huh?”

  I’ll tell him again later. Right now, I have to help him get well. We have a long way to go, and I need my brother up and moving as fast as possible. I grab water out of his backpack. It’s hard twisting the top off. It takes all of my strength, but I get it done. I put the bottle to his lips. He puckers up. As slowly as I can, I pour the liquid into his mouth, but I’m shaking. More water drains out than what he swallows. I keep trying, and Michael eagerly attempts to drink.

  It takes a while for us to get our bearings. We’re soaked by the time both of us can stand without feeling dizzy. We decide to sit in the cabin of the pickup truck until the rain stops. Neither one of us wants to talk about what happened last night. Neither one of us understands, but both of us know we’re not the same.

  Michael cuts his eyes at my neck. I have the rash too. He doesn’t have to tell me, and he’s aware the skin around his right ear and throat are infected. He saw it in the passenger mirror before getting into the truck.

  We eat bread and drink water to build up our strength. It’s the only thing that doesn’t pain me to swallow. Also, eating stops me from asking questions and having to answer any Michael might have. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t even act like he wants to start a conversation. A lot is on my brother’s mind. He’s worried about what he can’t control. Admittedly, so am I.

  After the rain stops, Michael and I change clothes using the opposite sides of the truck for privacy. I’m feeling better, but I’m not a hundred percent. Michael has renewed energy, determination. He’s ready for the long trip ahead. In my mind, I see Seeds and Macemps, red lightning and mimicked flocks of birds. The terror rise to my s
ore throat. I choke trying to swallow it back down.

  “You alright over there?”

  “I’m fine,” I answer, sighing.

  The earth begins to rumble. It could be an earthquake. Last time, I felt one was in the year 2011. There wasn’t snow on the ground, and it wasn’t cold. The earth shook and grumbled as if it was having a hissy fit. I was amazed by the way it felt. I remember the shaking and the deep erratic beating of what sounded like drums. The event didn’t last very long. This time it’s different. The sound is far away, somewhere in the distance, coming from a source I can only guess is the aliens. They’ve taken away our electricity, destroyed buildings, killed people, and now what? What else can they do?

  The rumbling stops, and there’s dead silence.

  Michael and I throw on our backpacks. As we start walking north, I have no idea if we’re getting closer or farther away. All I can do is hope for the latter.

  From out of nowhere, a boom goes off. It’s coming from our right side, beyond the trees, possibly about a mile or two away. Dark smoke and fire form a thick wall. The wind blows it towards us and south.

  Michael and I quick-step up the road, checking where the wind blows the smoke. We say nothing to each other. That’s all that matters is trying to get away from danger, to get to the Allegheny National Forest. I want to live the rest of my life there now. I want to be part of a society that is prepared to beat death while prospering. I’m so glad Michael paid to be in the Allegheny Collective. It has to be the smartest thing he’s ever done.

  I try to make the most of our walk. The fire isn’t coming near us. It’s quieter. The trees are on full display with their summer leafy flourish. There aren’t a lot of homes along the way. I’m relieved there aren’t shopping centers, but at the same time, the area feels abandoned, like people picked up their lives and moved on long before we got here. Many of the houses are old, made of wood, and the windows are broken. As a matter of fact, every window is shattered to every single home along the way. No one is outside cleaning up the mess. People aren’t boarding up damaged windows. There’s no movement at all. The vehicles on the road and driveways are untouched.