Darkest Storm Page 3

  “I can stay. I’ll help.”

  “You have been helping. You’ve done so much.”

  She gazed at him a moment, and then her posture slumped in defeat. Brittany fought back a yawn and then smiled, her eyes circled with deep bruises, and her face still pale. Colton worried that she was pushing herself too hard. She also had the kids to look after. “I’ll be back,” she promised, and he smiled. She was a stubborn one. It’s what he liked about her.

  **

  Brittany went back to the van to check on the kids, but she knew she’d return to help Colton as soon as she saw they were fine. If he could cope with the freezing, the blood, the pain, and the death, then so could she. Just because he had training didn’t mean that it was easier on him to fight through the suffering. And he’d hurt himself in that house and was wearing down.

  If someone didn’t make him slow down, they’d lose him, too.

  She found the kids awake but Bart sleeping. “Shh,” she whispered at Benton and Lily. “Let him sleep.”

  Benton whispered back, “We were playing I spy.”

  “Oh really?” She put a finger to her chin. “Well, okay…I spy with my little eye, something…orange.”

  Benton grinned. “Ummm.” He searched around. “Your jacket?”

  “Nope.”

  Lily climbed over and hugged Brittany to her. “Is it that house over there? It’s orange,” Lily said, starting to come out of the shell shocked expression she’d been in for days.

  Brittany petted her hand and pushed her cheek against Lily’s and that got her giggling. “Good guess,” Brittany said. “But nope.”

  They kept guessing until Colton came over. It was clear his energy had finally run out. “I’m going to just sit down a moment,” he said.

  He’ll be out in a minute or two, Brittany bet. He turned to glance at her with a strange expression and they stared at one another, thinking about the day, knowing that things would get worse before they got better. “We’re playing I spy,” she said softly, wanting to brush away the ash in his hair.

  Colton’s mouth lifted on one side. “Oh yeah? What’s the color?”

  “Orange.” She felt her mouth curl, too. Despite the horrors, Colton and Brittany could pretend. She, and him, and Bart, they were a great team of pretenders for the children. She felt that—outside of their dad—there was probably none better. She wanted to do something to thank Bart and Colton, but what? She had been doing what she could to prop the brothers up, as they did to one another, and as they did for her.

  Colton didn’t look away from the serious green gaze anchoring him to the earth. He felt like he could spin away and shut down, but she and Bart and the kids kept him going. He knew he had to be strong for them, that they expected him to know what to do, and that helped somehow. “The sunrise,” he said after letting the kids finish their guessing.

  “Nice job,” Brittany replied.

  “It came up,” Colton joked. “Can you believe it?”

  She smiled at his teasing tone. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, with the world going crazy, and how everything’s changed, I wondered if that would, too.”

  **

  Brittany took the kids for a walk in the opposite direction of the destruction, towards the fields. She’d locked the van with Bart and Colton inside, both long gone in dreamland. The kids, she knew, needed to stretch their legs and go to the bathroom. Across the way were the fields they’d spent the night in, and she wanted to see if she could find some of the things they’d left and collect them. More than anything she wanted to be helpful.

  “Take the initiative,” Brittany said to herself.

  “What?” Benton asked.

  “Nothing,” she laughed.

  The kids played like they were airplanes, zooming around in the dirt, burning off their energy after being cooped up in the van. It was a longer walk than she remembered but the sun was high and there were only a few cracks in the area, so for a time she could pretend the world wasn’t ending, and that they could go home, and that all of what was happening was one long terrible dream. She’d make them dinner, the kids would wait to Skype their father on their computers, and Brittany herself would take a long hot bath and read. But now, that was the actual dream, wasn’t it?

  Their tent was still where they’d left it, and she tried her best to roll it up into its pack, neatly and tightly. She had to wrestle with it, and she and the kids made it a game. She put their heaters into her backpack along with a few other things. She knew Colton and Bart would be thanking her later when they saw she’d gotten the coffee maker. She noticed Colton had left some of his own winter gear behind, too, and she shook her head as she packed it up. She remembered he’d been so busy helping her pack the kids in a hurry after the big quake in the middle of the night that he’d left his own things behind.

  Brittany got it onto her back again and took a break to watch the kids play tag. Then she told them to put their backs to one another and take turns going potty. Once finished, they headed for town. When they arrived, the nurse was on her porch with a mug of something hot for Brittany and the children.

  The woman bent down and gave the kids some bags of cereal. “This was all I could dig up.”

  Brittany was so thankful she choked on her words. “You didn’t have to do this. Thank you so much. For the food, for everything.” The woman was so gracious, even after she’d lost nearly everything.

  “If I could do more, I would. You and your friends have helped us all here, perfect strangers. My name’s Betty.”

  “Brittany. This is Lily and Benton. And Colton and Bart are sleeping in the van, thanks to you.”

  The woman slapped away tears and said, “I can’t believe he’s gone. The entire upstairs just collapsed. I barely got out myself. It feels like a dream.”

  Brittany touched her cold hands. “I’m so sorry.”

  “The kitchen is untouched. I keep thinking if we’d only been in another part of the house, you know?”

  Colton had helped the woman get out when they’d arrived. Betty had been the first one they’d stopped to help, but they were too late to save her husband. Brittany would remember his face, and well, all of the faces she’d seen, until the day she died.

  Betty glanced at Brittany and decided something. Handing over her keys she said, “I want you guys to take the van. Your young man told me you were trying to get to New York to these kids’ parents. Your friend told me about their…” she glanced at Lily and Benton and shook her head, “their situation. It’s the least I can do. It’s paid for and it’s old. But it works.”

  “I can’t do that!”

  “Yes, you can. It looks like if you head around to the frontage road, the roads are still decent enough and if you go straight north, to Chicago, maybe you can go around the worst of this. Take them home,” she said quietly. “My only joy is that my children live far away from here, but these babies…someone is waiting for them to come home.”

  Brittany thought of Reese. Was she thinking of them? It was hard to picture the woman pacing in worry, but perhaps, deep down, she did.

  Brittany nodded, handed Betty back her mug, and told the kids to say goodbye. Together, they started down the driveway. She put the kids in the van and started it up, thankful when the engine growled to life.

  “Hey,” Colton said, sitting up in the very back, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror.

  “Hey,” she replied quietly, trying not to wake Bart.

  Colton glanced around confused. “Did you get us a ride?”

  “Yup.”

  He grinned. “Really?”

  “Betty gave us the van to use to get to New York. I’ve got all our gear. Let’s get out of here.” Brittany paused with her hands on the wheel. “You saved her life, you know?”

  “Someone would have come along.” He rubbed the back of his head.

  “But they didn’t.” She raised a brow putting the car into reverse. “I think we should try for Chicago. Wha
t do you think?”

  He nodded. “Maybe the highway is fine?”

  “Well, the sun came up, right?” She smiled.

  “Do you know how to get there?” Already his mind was working things out, she could see, trying to control the situation. Brittany leaned over and popped open the glove compartment. “I can use this if I need to.”

  He huffed a quiet laugh. “A good old-fashioned map.” Colton’s eyes drifted to the row of houses. Brittany sighed. She knew he wanted to help the people, to stay and aid in the rescues, but it would go on and on, wouldn’t it?

  “Colton,” she said. “We can’t save them all. And eventually we have to get somewhere to stay. It’s only going to get colder and more dangerous for the kids. I hate to do it, too. To leave these people. But they need to help each other now. I think once we get to New York and get the kids with their mother…she’s a big wig there, you know? She’ll put us up in some place for a while until this…blows over.”

  He nodded. “I’d have to go back to my unit.”

  They shared a glance. And once they got to New York, they’d say goodbye. They let that linger in the air for a while until Brittany studied the map. She found what she was looking for, backed down the street, and pulled onto the road. “Go to sleep for a bit. I got this.”

  Colton smiled and yawned. “You certainly do.”

  Chapter Four

  New York City, New York

  New York City was desolate. Other than people burning trash in dumpsters and a few bundled up loners, appearing to be lost, most were hiding inside. Smoke clogged the air from not just the smaller fires, but a few buildings had caught fire as well from people trying to keep warm in apartments without chimneys. Michelle had pressed her face to the glass as they passed by one, hopeless to help, watching tired firefighters struggle to save lives. There were even a few lumps under blankets on the sidewalk, and the scene had made her shudder with fear. The world was truly and utterly coming apart, and there was nothing any of them could do about it.

  The cold was already bad inside the old truck, but it was so intense outside that Michelle hesitated as they pulled in front of her apartment.

  “It looks like power is out for the entire city.”

  “We better start saving gasoline,” Bob said. “For the generator. And find wood wherever we can.”

  The roads remained thick with snow and after they parked, she stepped down into several feet of soft white, head down against the biting cold. The wind slapped her cheeks, making her blink until she rushed inside her apartment building. Even that few minutes outside had hurt. The chill had nipped at her heels the entire time she ran up her steps and into the shared hallway. Bob had to help her put her key in because her hands were shaking so badly.

  “This doesn’t feel normal,” she said. “I mean even for New York. This is too cold.” She gave Bob a bleak look. “People are going to die, aren’t they?”

  Bob nodded sadly. “With the power out, the elderly and young will struggle the most, first. I think we should be prepared for the worst, Michelle. Millions of people without power will mean widespread panic.”

  “I can’t believe it. This is the worst city to have this happen in. I mean that sounds silly, but there are so many more people in close proximity in New York. They all need food and water and warmth, and it’s not like everyone is as prepared as you are.”

  He sighed, seeming to understand that Michelle was beginning to finally grasp the true circumstances. They’d been so busy dealing with Cybercorp that they hadn’t had much time to talk about the ramifications of a crippled city. The people who would be without help or aid should they need it.

  Michelle opened her door. Her place was untouched, and she blew out a breath she’d been holding in relief. She knew what type of area she lived in and people would start taking advantage soon…or, well, try to survive best they could. She showed Bob and Donny where everything was as she searched for her cat. She thought about grabbing her laptop, but then remembered with anger that it had been taken by the man that had come to kill her. It would be useless anyway until the power was back on.

  It took some time for her to get her cat out from under her bed. Poor Hatty was chilled to the bone without the heat having been left on, and Michelle placed her in the carrier after some war wounds were left across her hands.

  It took even more time for them to load everything into the truck. Michelle found her old skis and she handed them to Bob who frowned at the price tag. “I never got the chance to use them,” she said, leaving off the fact that it had been yet another ski trip she’d canceled with a guy she liked to make her deadlines at the New York Times.

  Everything was in the truck and they were just about to leave when Michelle heard a strange sound from inside the shared hallway. “What was that?” she asked Bob.

  He shrugged and took Hatty from her, heading for the stairs, but Michelle lingered behind. “Mr. Chung?” she said softly approaching the one other apartment at the end of the dark hallway.

  As she drew near she saw that the door was cracked open. “It’s me, Michelle.”

  No answer. Moving closer, she could see inside, and Mr. Chung was on the floor, face turned away from her. She pushed the door open and rushed to his side. He gaped at her, eyes blinking rapidly. “Oh my,” Michelle cried, seeing blood. “What happened?”

  She cradled his head in her lap, finding a long cut at his hairline. Then she saw that the room was missing items. His TV and the stereo that used to sit on this side of the entryway was gone, and where the old antique clock had been, there was only an outline on the wall where age had faded the area around it, leaving the clock’s shape in pristine white.

  Michelle opened her mouth to shout for Bob when a man strolled from the back room with a mask on. Another came in from behind him and then another. She gaped at the three men; one of them had a baseball bat, and he laughed at her.

  “What do we have here?” he said, and the other two moved forward.

  One of the men kicked Mr. Chung and Michelle shouted, “Stop! You’re hurting him!”

  Fast as a snake, the other two grabbed Michelle’s arms and pulled them behind her back.

  The first walked forward and yanked his mask off. His raptor gaze narrowed on her. “Pretty little thing. You must be the reporter.”

  Michelle frowned. “How…how do you know that?”

  Were these guys from Cybercorp?

  “We have a message for you,” he said, touching her chin as she focused carefully on his eyes to avoid drawing notice to the door that was slowly opening behind him.

  “What message?” Michelle asked.

  “Where’s Cameron?”

  Michelle huffed a laugh. “That’s not a message. That’s a question.” She yelped as one of them pulled her head back by her hair.

  “Funny, funny lady. Tell us where the old nerd is.”

  Michelle watched him with fear but said nothing.

  “Tell us or—” The rest got cut off as he was pulled into a choke hold. The guys behind her hadn’t seen Bob and Donny silently enter the room, either. Donny yanked the bat from the arms of the first thug who was being choked out by Bob.

  Donny’s other hand held a gun on the one who still had Michelle. “Let her go.”

  The first guy made a gurgling sound and went slack.

  “Wait! Don’t kill him!”

  Bob glared at her. She rushed forward, free from the other two idiots. “Reese sent them. I need to know more. They’re trying to find Cameron. I want to ask him a few questions.”

  “Not happening,” Bob said as he threw the man onto the ground who took gasping breaths. “Get out of here. All of you. Next time, I shoot first.”

  The man jumped to his feet, one hand on his throat like he couldn’t talk. He lunged for the door and the other two followed.

  “Wait!” Michelle shouted. Then she rounded on Bob after they were gone. “We could have gotten more info!”

  “About what?” h
e said, putting his gun in his holster. “Reese wants us to be afraid. I’m not. You’re apparently not.” He grinned and then laughed, mimicking Michelle’s voice with a falsetto. “That’s not a question.”

  Michelle’s mouth quirked but she was still mad that Bob had ruined her plans. “Why don’t we just tell her where Cameron is?”

  He gave her a strange look. “Because she sent them to scare us. Not kill us. With that information…she has no reason to keep us alive.”

  The anger rushed out of Michelle. “True.”

  “Girl,” Bob said. “That curiosity of yours is going to get you killed one of these days.”

  Not answering that, Michelle helped Mr. Chung to his feet, hoping he wouldn’t remember her connection to all of this. No doubt they’d demanded he tell them where she was, and poor Mr. Chung didn’t speak hardly a word of English. “We have to take him with us. He’s too hurt.” Michelle grimaced over the gash on her landlord’s head. “He needs stitches.”

  Bob nodded. “Let’s get him to the truck.”

  **

  There was a line at the hospital so long they had to open the hallways leading through the main floor so people could stand in line inside. While the sheer number of people in the lobby and halls made Michelle think that the people would be rioting out of frustration over the long wait, the mood was somber and subdued. The smell of iron was in the air, and everywhere she looked there were people clutching napkins, towels, and other makeshift bandages to various wounds. Most appeared to be minor, but there were more than a few borne by those with pale skin who looked like they were on the verge of passing over into the next world. Nurses and doctors streamed by, hurrying back and forth in ordered chaos as they worked feverishly to thin the ever-increasing herd of sick and injured.

  “What’s going on?” Michelle asked a nurse as she passed by pushing a patient.

  “A lot are just bad colds, a few chest infections, and of course with the weather, the flu has reared its ugly head.” She held up a finger and gave her patient to an orderly. “This cut looks nasty.” She put gloves on and checked Mr. Chung’s head. “Come with me. I have a doctor working on wounds over here.” She led them to a room outfitted for triage. “You have to sit on this plastic chair here,” she said apologetically. “We’re all out of places to put everyone.”