Standing together in the shadow of the awning over the bathrooms were Kent and Tori . . . making out. It was such a stunning sight that I didn’t know what to do at first. They were locked together in a full-on, mouth-open, passionate kiss.
I almost shouted something. I’m not even sure what it would have been.
“What’s going on?”
“You’re kidding?”
“Seriously? Kent?”
“Does Olivia know about this?”
All those words went through my mind, but none came out of my mouth. Instead, I backed away quickly. They didn’t even know I had seen them. For some reason, I no longer had to pee.
I walked back to the track, holding the helmet tightly under my arm, not sure of how I should be feeling. Was Tori’s anger and disappointment in me what drove her to Kent? It was hard to accept that, because I knew she thought he was a tool. And what about Olivia? As far as she knew, Kent was a puppy dog who would do anything for her. Was this fair to her? And did it matter, since she was coming after me every chance she got? She was an emotional girl. This could really hurt her.
Or me.
Tori and I had a complicated relationship. I had told her that I loved her, and I meant it. But things had changed since then. I had let her down in a big way. She wanted nothing more to do with me, and seeing her with Kent proved it.
I had officially lost everything I cared about.
“Back on the track!” Kent called as he ran past me, headed for his go-kart. “Had to tap the bladder. Admit it, Rook. This was a good idea, right?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Excellent idea.”
He had no idea that I had seen them.
Kent got back into his go-kart, and I got into mine. He took off a few seconds before me. I rolled out near the finish line, turned left, and punched it. This second go-around was a whole different experience. It wasn’t so much fun as it was . . . necessary. I put the pedal to the metal and never let up. I cut corners so tightly that I rumbled over gravel. On one corner I cut inside Kent. It was a dumb, dangerous move, but I didn’t care. He had to pull out of the turn to keep from hitting me as I flew by.
I eventually passed Jon and then Olivia. As I rounded the final curve before the finishing straight, I had the fleeting thought of driving the go-kart right off the track, through the parking lot, and out onto the road. Why not? There was nobody to stop me. I could just hit the road and keep on going until I ran out of gas.
But I didn’t. I pulled the car into the pit and, breathing hard, killed the engine.
Kent pulled in behind me.
“What was that!” he screamed angrily. “You could have killed us both.”
“Just having a little fun,” I said. “That’s what this was about, right?”
“Yeah, but . . . jeez, Rook. We’re all on the same side here.”
“Stop calling me Rook,” I said with no emotion.
“Aw, lighten up. It’s just a dumb word.”
I looked him square in the eye. He got the message and backed off.
“Okay, fine, whatever.”
He got out of the kart, dropped his helmet in the seat, and headed for the snack bar. I wondered if he was going to look for Tori, because as far as I knew she hadn’t come out on the track again.
Jon and Olivia pulled up, both still flushed and excited.
“That was the most fun I’ve had in forever!” Olivia exclaimed dramatically. “Kent is a genius!”
I could think of a lot of words to describe Kent. “Genius” wasn’t one of them.
I gathered everybody’s helmets and put them back in the office. I don’t know why. Guess I was still trying to be civilized.
When Olivia, Jon, and I got to the Volvo, Kent and Tori were already inside. Not making out. Kent was in the third row, and Tori was riding shotgun. Maybe I imagined it, but the atmosphere seemed icy. Or maybe they were just playing it cool so Olivia wouldn’t know what was really going on. Or me.
Olivia jumped in the third row and threw her arms around Kent.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she said. “It’s just what I needed.”
“That was pretty cool, Kent,” Jon said. “I’m glad you talked us into it.”
“Yeah, well, I do have good ideas sometimes.”
Everything he said had a double meaning for me. I was about to say, “So, Kent, when did you and Tori get together? By the way, are you a traitor?” But I bit my tongue.
We were about to hit the last leg of our journey. The go-karts were a fun diversion but nothing more. It was time to get back to reality. I had to make sure my head was on straight and focus on what lay ahead, not on what could have been.
I drove out of the racetrack and headed toward Denver, where we found yet another hospital. We went through our practiced routines of finding food, washing up, and claiming beds in the ER. Jon didn’t even bother trying the radio. What was the point? We would find the truth for ourselves the next day. We went to bed with the agreement that we would get up early to begin the final leg of our journey.
Nevada.
After all the speculation and debate, we were almost there. When we left Colorado, we had to traverse the width of Utah before entering the state of Nevada. The Silver State, as a highway sign proclaimed. Once we crossed the border, it would only be a short leg to the park, and . . . whatever.
The map looked as though we were going to be traveling through some desolate country with nowhere to stop for supplies. There was limited room in the Volvo, so we chose to stock up on bottled water rather than gas. There were plenty of abandoned cars to siphon along the way but no guaranteed spot to find fresh water.
Once again, we hit the road long before dawn. When we loaded up the car, there was a definite pregame feeling. Whatever was in Nevada, we would find it soon. Was it hope? A new life? Would we find a group of tenacious survivors who had banded together to wrestle control back from the two military forces that had decimated the country? Or would we fall into a trap that was set to lure in the stragglers who weren’t wiped out the first time?
Or would we find a gate to hell?
I drove first. The camaraderie from the go-kart experience was a thing of the past. We were back to stony silence. I imagined that this was what it was like to be nearing the appointed hour on death row. Up until then, it had all just been theory. What lay ahead was real.
Kent and Olivia were snuggled together in the way back. I wanted to call him out so badly, but if Tori wouldn’t do it, I wasn’t going to rock the boat.
We drove as fast as the day before, stopping for gas several times. Until then, we had been driving through civilization. Granted, it was an altered civilization, but most of our journey was through developed land. The West proved to be very different. In Colorado, we crossed the Rocky Mountains. I’d never seen anything like them before. It was breathtaking. In Utah, we passed through deserts that were stunning in their natural simplicity, and rugged, unspoiled forests. I’d lived in only two places in my life: Connecticut and Maine. I’d only seen sights like these in the movies or on TV. It was awe inspiring, and depressing.
I would have liked to be seeing them with my mom and dad.
As I took in the amazing vistas, I was struck by yet another disturbing thought. We were used to living in towns with electricity and clean water. We could watch TV and send texts and buy whatever we needed in a store. We had enjoyed all the advantages of living in an advanced, civilized society. And now those luxuries were gone. We had been adjusting to that reality for some time now. What I hadn’t considered was what these changes would mean for the ecology of the planet. What plans did SYLO have for the land? Or if the Retros triumphed and were allowed to “reset” civilization, what would that mean for the physical world?
Until then, I’d only thought about the war’s impact on people, and cities, and governments. But this was real life. This was our world. What did these military powers have in mind for the most basic aspects of life on earth? Civilization
was going to change. Did that mean severe changes for the mountains and deserts and oceans too? The Retros had not only wiped out people, they’d decimated other living things as well. What would that do to the balance of nature? To the food chain? The circle of life had been broken for good.
Once again, I was overwhelmed by the scope of the change that this war had brought.
Kent, on the other hand, was probably thinking about making out with Tori.
He was behind the wheel when we entered Nevada.
“We’re here,” he announced.
It was as simple as that.
The final leg of our journey was through wide-open desert. The temperature outside rose to 110 degrees. There was nothing to see for miles but sand and rocks and more sand. In the distance were mountain ranges, but they were hundreds of miles away. We were square in the middle of beautiful desolation.
“Look at the temperature,” Kent said. “A hundred and ten. Sure seems like we’re getting nearer to hell.”
“We gotta decide,” Jon said. “What are we gonna do when we get there?”
Nobody answered.
“Seriously,” he pressed. “We just drove two thousand miles. We’ve got to have some kind of plan.”
“It depends on what we find,” I said. “We’ll go to where the coordinates say. Who knows? Maybe it’s a camp of survivors.”
“In the desert?” Olivia asked skeptically.
“What can I tell you?” I said. “This is where we were called to, so this is where we’re going. Once we get there, we’ll figure out what our next move is.”
That seemed to satisfy everyone, though it was a totally unsatisfying answer.
“There!” Jon pointed out.
There was a highway sign for the Valley of Fire State Park.
The tension in the car suddenly amped up.
“It’s real,” Olivia said with a gasp.
“Here we go,” Kent announced and took the exit.
We followed a barely paved dusty road for several miles. Each time we thought we were lost, we’d see another sign that directed us to the park.
Nobody spoke. My mouth was bone dry as we entered the Valley of Fire.
“It’s beautiful,” Tori said. They were the first words she’d said since we left Denver.
We were surrounded by towering natural sculptures cut from rusty-orange rock. The “valley” was the desert floor. Surrounding us were soaring, jagged peaks of the same amber stone. Looking off into the distance, I saw many other impossible rock formations. It was like a sculpture garden created by nature.
“Are those pueblos?” Jon the historian asked.
He was pointing to several huts that at first seemed like part of the terrain, but when you looked closer, you could see the hand of man. Ancient man, probably. Native Americans.
We had hit the park at the exact right time of day to get the most stunning effect. The sun was sinking toward the horizon behind streaks of clouds that glowed orange and purple. Its fading light spread over the desert floor like warm butterscotch, highlighting the detail of the rock formations and their multiple layers and colors.
Olivia said, “This doesn’t look anything like a gate into hell. This is . . . beautiful.”
We drove further on, past a section that was scattered with mobile trailers. Abandoned mobile trailers. My mind was already jumping ahead and thinking that we could spend the night in one of them.
We continued until we hit the parking lot and a building that looked like the visitors’ center. Kent parked in front, and we all got out.
After traveling in an air-conditioned car, stepping into hundred-degree heat was a brutal shock.
“Okay, maybe this is a gate to hell after all,” Olivia commented while dabbing her forehead.
We all glanced around looking for . . . what? We didn’t know.
“We’re sure this is the place, right?” Kent asked.
“These are the exact coordinates that were being broadcast,” Jon replied defensively.
“Maybe the survivors are living in those trailers we passed,” Olivia said hopefully.
“If they are, there aren’t many of them,” Kent said. “I hope we didn’t come all the way out here just to hook up with twelve yahoos looking to get even.”
“I’ll look inside the building,” I offered. “Maybe there’s a message or instructions or—”
“I hear something,” Tori interrupted.
We all listened. The sound was faint at first, but it grew quickly. After spending so much time in silence over the past few weeks, it was easy to hear an alien sound because every sound was alien.
“Engines,” I said. “More than one.”
“At least it’s not music from the sky,” Kent said.
The engine sounds grew louder. Whatever it was, it was headed our way.
“What should we do?” Olivia asked nervously.
“Get back in the car,” I ordered.
“No!” Tori countered. “This is what we came for. Whatever it is, we’re going to face it.”
There was a tense silence, then Olivia said meekly, “I wouldn’t mind waiting in the car.”
“Then go!” Tori snapped at her.
Olivia went right for the Volvo and got in, but she kept her face pressed to the window to keep an eye on what was about to unfold.
A cloud of dust was being kicked up on the road behind us. Something was definitely coming in.
“I’m getting kind of nervous,” Jon said. “Should we be prepared to defend ourselves?”
“You have your gun, Tori?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“Don’t pull it out unless you think we’re done. We have no idea how well they’re armed.”
“Or who they are,” Jon added.
“I’m not an idiot,” Tori said.
“Motorcycles,” Kent announced. “Harleys.”
As soon as he said that, several motorcycles rounded an outcropping of rock and thundered toward us. I counted ten.
“Look!” Jon said, pointing to a ridge behind the visitors’ center.
There were four people on horseback looking down on us. They were dressed in jeans and cotton shirts: civilian clothes. It looked like there were four men, but any of them could easily have been a woman. It was hard to tell because they were all wearing cowboy hats.
“Hey!” I called. “Who are you?”
The four didn’t answer, or budge. They sat on their horses, silently watching.
The motorcycles roared into the parking lot and turned directly toward us. These people didn’t look like military types either. Some wore leathers, like typical bikers. Others had more colorful, outdoorsy jackets and jeans. They all wore full helmets that covered their faces. They definitely weren’t wearing uniforms of any sort, which was a relief. They also didn’t look to be carrying weapons, which was an even bigger relief.
The bikers rode up and circled us. We huddled closer to the Volvo. It was the only protection we had, and having strangers on motorcycles surrounding us in the middle of the desert was definitely intimidating. They formed a tight circle around us.
“I think we’ve just been trapped,” Jon said.
They continued to circle us until one of the riders raised his hand and they all came to a stop. They didn’t kill their engines. All the riders straddled their bikes and looked at us.
“We come in peace!” Kent shouted, holding up his open palm.
“Shut up, Kent,” I snapped.
I took a few steps toward the rider who had given the command to stop. I made sure that I held my hands out to show that I wasn’t hiding anything.
Unlike Tori.
“We’ve come a long way,” I said. “We heard the radio broadcast. Was that you?”
They continued to stare at us. At least I think they were staring. It was hard to tell because their faces were hidden by the helmet visors.
“We’re from Pemberwick Island in Maine,” I called out. “Who are you?”
The lead rider’s response was to reach into his saddlebag . . . and pull out a pistol.
“Gun!” Kent shouted.
Tori went for hers too late. All the riders pulled out their own guns with practiced precision. It was so quick we didn’t have the chance to defend ourselves. Or run.
The bikers aimed and fired.
I had never been shot before, so I didn’t know what to expect. I was hit in the chest and knocked back against the Volvo. I thought it would hurt more. That’s exactly what went through my mind.
I looked toward Tori to see that she had been hit too. She slid down the door of the Volvo and crumpled onto the asphalt. Her gun was on the ground, out of reach.
The window of the Volvo shattered. Olivia screamed but was abruptly cut off. She’d been hit too. We’d all been hit. The gunmen knew what they were doing. We didn’t stand a chance.
The world began to spin. The horizon turned sideways. My knees went weak, and I slumped to the ground. My last thought before losing consciousness was that it was such a beautiful park to be a gate to hell.
TWENTY-THREE
Black.
I couldn’t tell if I was awake or asleep or dead.
My head hurt, which was good. As far as I knew, dead people didn’t get headaches.
I felt as though I was coming out of a coma, not that I’d ever done that, but I imagined that’s what it was like. I was disoriented with nothing to see but . . . nothing.
My senses started coming back online, though there wasn’t much input for them to work with. I was lying on something soft. That much I understood. I tried to stand up, but my right leg wouldn’t move. I thought maybe I was paralyzed and started to panic. The fear got my heart pounding and my blood pumping, which helped clear my head.
I tried to move my leg again and realized there was nothing wrong with it. I couldn’t move because I was shackled. My right leg was chained to the floor.
At least I wasn’t dead.
“Tori!” I called. “Kent?”
I was in a big room. That much I could tell from the echo of my voice. As my wits returned, I remembered getting shot and realized I hadn’t been hit with a bullet. The bikers must have fired tranquilizer darts. I felt the area of my chest that had been hit, and it was definitely sore.