Unraveling

  “You’re not going to believe me at first,” I say. “So you need to trust me, and you need to hear me out until the end.”

  He glances at me out of the corner of his eye, like he thinks I’m being dramatic.

  “I’ve never been more serious.”

  “Okay,” Struz says. “I’m listening.”

  And I—finally—tell him everything. I start at the beginning for me—getting hit by the truck and coming back to life. And I keep going, up until the point where he found us headed toward the school. It’s abbreviated, but I don’t leave anything out.

  When I finish, we’re sitting in the parking lot of the Federal Building, and Struz is staring at me. I half expect him to ask what drugs I’m on.

  I pull the wire necklace off and hand it to him. “I don’t entirely know what this is. But I know it’s made from a chemical compound called hydrochloradneum and it doesn’t exist here. And it apparently neutralizes radiation or something. I’m sure you have people who can test it.”

  “Well, we used to,” Struz says, taking it from me. “I’m not sure what we have now, but I’ll have someone check it out.” He turns the necklace over in his hands, as if he’s expecting it to whisper the answers to him.

  When it doesn’t, he looks up at me again. “You’re right, I don’t entirely believe you, because I’m having trouble wrapping my head around it. But at the same time a lot of it makes sense, and I’ve got the same feeling I get when I know I’ve just broken a case.”

  “So where does that leave us?”

  “I have no idea, but let’s go see Jared, and let me try to think about what questions I should have,” he says, then turns around to look at Ben. “You’re with me, by the way.”

  Ben gives Struz a nod, and now that I’ve gotten it all out, I’m ready to see Jared, try to get in touch with Alex, and then go find Elijah and Reid.

  Which is when I realize I forgot to even think about my mom.

  “Do you know where Alex and my mom are?” I ask Struz.

  “Alex is at Qualcomm. We’ve got it set up as an evacuation shelter,” he says. “And I don’t know where your mom is yet. Scripps sustained some damage, but it’s still up and running, and she should have been there.”

  “But she’s not?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “I’ve got her listed as missing, but J, you were my priority.”

  My eyes burn, but I understand, so I nod and turn back to the Federal Building and keep walking. I have the strangest image of my mother walking into the ocean like Edna Pontellier at the end of The Awakening.

  00:23:02:31

  The advantage to having an in with the FBI is that the bones in Jared’s leg are set and he’s being taken care of in a hospital that isn’t overcrowded.

  The Federal Building looks like any other office building in downtown San Diego—it’s nondescript. But tonight it’s more abuzz with life than anywhere else I’ve been. It’s still standing, for one thing, and it looks virtually untouched by the chaos. And a backup generator steadily hums, making the dimly lit building seem like it’s alive.

  As we walk into the lobby, Struz ushers us through security—the metal detectors are down, and a security guard tries to stop us, but Struz flashes his ID and says, “They’re with me,” and that’s the end of the discussion.

  “Ben, we’re going to need to sit you down and get all the information about what was in Eric Brandt’s hotel room,” Struz says. “And we’re going to have to call in Elijah and Reid.”

  “You’re going to do all that?” I ask, wondering whether he’s going to tell everyone else what I told him—and if this is going to take time we don’t have.

  Struz ignores me—he’s in a zone. But it doesn’t matter. Ben glances at me and says, “Whatever you need.”

  He squeezes my hand, and I squeeze back even though I’m not sure when he took my hand to begin with. I turn to him and take in his face. While my own is probably wearing every emotion I’ve experienced over the last several days, Ben’s dark eyes seem to lack focus, and the lines of his face are blank. It’s an emotionless mask, similar to the one I’ve seen him wearing at school for the past however many years. But I recognize it for what it is now. He’s thinking—not about the scene in front of him, but about something more pressing. Right now, I’d wager everything I have that he’s thinking about Elijah.

  The elevators are down, so we take the stairs, and as soon as we open the door to the stairwell, I’m tempted to run up them two at a time if I have to. I have to see with my own eyes that Jared is okay.

  “The hospital is on the third floor,” Struz says, as if he can read my mind. “It’s pretty crowded, so stick with me and I’ll make sure you can get in to see him.”

  We’re halfway to the second floor, when the second-floor door opens and a guy in his twenties comes through the door. He bounds down two steps before he sees Struz, then pauses and stands up straighter. “Sir! You’re back,” he says. “The fires in Imperial Beach have been put out, and we’ve gotten the satellite phone lines up.”

  “Good, see if we can get ahold of someone in Washington or New York,” Struz says. “And send the emergency responders from Imperial Beach to Poway.”

  “Already done,” the guy says.

  Struz nods—a silent dismissal—then the guy is running past us and we’re still heading to the third floor.

  When we open the door to the hospital level, the strong odors of antiseptic and bleach assault me. It’s crowded with people in scrubs and white coats, but also with people in civilian clothes. I spot Deirdre almost immediately, standing with a doctor, and she moves toward us.

  I’m about to ask why an analyst is treating Struz like he’s the big boss, when I figure it out myself. He is the big boss. My dad is gone, and the Bureau hasn’t had the time to transfer anyone else in yet. And they’re not going to have the resources or the manpower to do it now.

  “Coronado,” Deirdre says. “The whole base is underwater. It’s as if the island just sank.”

  “Fuck,” Struz says, shaking his head.

  “That’s not the worst of it,” Deirdre adds. “Rady Children’s Hospital still doesn’t have power back up, and they’re over capacity. They’re treating people in the parking lot, but a big aftershock could take out the left wing, since the foundation is already shot.”

  I look at Struz, who’s running a hand through his already messed-up blond hair—and I have to push the emotions back. If someone has to replace my dad, it should be Struz. I’m proud of him.

  “That would be a disaster,” he says. “Can you coordinate with San Diego PD and see if they can get anyone who’s not critical evacuated and sent to Petco Park?”

  “Petco’s already full,” Deirdre says.

  Struz touches his chin and then says, “What about the Lakeside Rodeo grounds? We could set up a new evac site with medical there. It’ll be out of the way for some people, but—”

  “I’ll talk to Red Cross and see what I can do,” Deirdre says, and then she’s turning around.

  “Dee,” Struz adds. “I need an APB out on Barclay. In fact, I need everything we know about him, and not just what’s in his file. Everything.”

  I watch Deirdre’s face. Her eyes widen slightly with surprise, and she frowns. “I haven’t seen Barclay in a few days, I don’t even know if—”

  “I do,” Struz says. “Call a meeting with everyone in fifteen minutes.”

  “Of course,” Deirdre says, then Struz’s hand is on my back and he’s guiding Ben and me down the hallway again.

  When I open the door to the room Jared is sharing with four other people, he’s the first person I see. He’s lying in the hospital bed, a bored look on his face, his left leg in a cast from toes to calf. I’m so relieved, I burst out laughing.

  “Oh my God, you look like half a mummy,” I say as I move to his bed.

  He smiles for a second and opens his mouth, but apparently he changes his mind about being happy to see me. Instead he fo
lds his arms across his chest and says, “Where have you been? Struz looked everywhere for you, and no one knew where you were.”

  I sit down on the edge of his bed. “I know, I’m sorry. I was with Ben. We’ve been looking for you.”

  Jared leans around me to look at Ben, who’s standing behind me. He waves awkwardly, because I know he’s been itching to get away since Struz first picked us up—we’re wasting time.

  I can’t believe the world might still end in less than a day, and I’m having this moment. The one where my little brother is appraising the guy I’m in love with. It makes me want to get away too.

  I run a hand through Jared’s hair, but he ducks away.

  “How’s your leg?” I ask, because I know he isn’t about to admit he was afraid in front of some other guy. “What happened to it?”

  “I was in the locker room, getting ready for ENS, and the lockers came down.” Jared glances at Ben. “They just got me at a bad angle.”

  “How long did they say you’ll have to wear the cast?”

  “Six weeks.” And by the way he says it, I can tell it’s the last thing he wanted to hear.

  “Six weeks will pass in no time.” Hopefully.

  “Do you remember at Disney, when we rode the new Pirates of the Caribbean ride and you got soaking wet?” Jared asks.

  “It was just a few days ago, dude.” I smile. “Of course I remember.”

  Jared yawns and leans back against his pillow. “Good. Because I want to do that again, as soon as my leg is better.”

  I don’t know if Disneyland is even remotely still standing—somehow I doubt it. But I don’t tell Jared that. Instead I just say, “Deal.” Hopefully I’ll have time to figure that all out later.

  00:21:56:29

  “Slipping that leash was harder than I expected,” Ben says when we’re finally on our way to Qualcomm.

  I can’t help but smile at him despite everything going on right now.

  Struz wouldn’t let us out of his sight. He drove us to Scripps to look for my mother—and for Elijah. But my mother was gone, like Struz had said, and Elijah had been discharged. When we got back to the Federal Building, Ben and I needed to get out of there. We were keeping track of the countdown, and we had less than twenty-four hours.

  But it wasn’t that easy to just leave. Despite how busy he was, Struz made sure he didn’t leave us alone. Until reports of wildfires came in, and Struz called another meeting. Agents and analysts were all too busy to babysit, and we managed to grab his TrailBlazer from the parking lot. Of course I feel guilty about leaving, but we have to move fast. We can’t wait for bureaucracy to catch up.

  “What’s our plan?” I ask. Because I’m annoyed at how many of my decisions seem to be based on my reactions to things as they happen rather than on planning. I feel underprepared for everything.

  “First we find Alex,” Ben says, and I’m glad he doesn’t seem offended by my abruptness. “We need to see if he knows anything about where Eli could be.”

  “You think he could be at home?” For a minute, I wonder how he could open portals in the hospital, but then I remember he can open them anywhere. He just has that ability.

  Ben shakes his head. “No way. Even if it’s still around, he got along with his foster family even worse than I did with mine.”

  “Your foster mom didn’t seem bad when I met her,” I say, hoping he won’t take that the wrong way.

  “No, she’s not, it’s… Janelle, I have a family. They’re just not here, and it’s hard not to resent people trying to jump in and be your parents, especially when you can’t tell them who you really are. There’s always a wall between me and them. Plus, I have Elijah and Reid. We’re each other’s family.”

  Neither of us mentions that it’s an even bigger betrayal if one of them has gone behind Ben’s back and been opening the portals despite the danger.

  “There are a couple places Eli might go if he was well enough to be released from the hospital,” Ben adds. “We’ll find him.”

  I look out the window. The sidewalks and even full lanes of the highway have cracked and turned into small trenches.

  It’s not just Qualcomm that’s an evac shelter, I realize as we pull up to the south entrance. The whole parking lot is an evac shelter as well. Cars are lined up on the side of the road haphazardly, as if people ditched their vehicles and ran for the stadium—and maybe they did. Even with the FBI vehicle, the security guard at the entrance won’t let us drive into the entrance. Ben double-parks nearby, and I say a silent prayer that the TrailBlazer is still there when we come back. I’d like to return it to Struz, if we can.

  The parking lot is full of makeshift tents and families with their pets, and I walk close to Ben with my head down. It’s cruel and selfish, but I just can’t afford the distraction of more heartache. These people might not know it, but this isn’t over. We’re down to our last day, and the end of the world is still coming if we can’t stop it.

  Inside, I look up and the first person I recognize is Kate. She’s standing with both of her parents, surrounded by a ridiculous amount of designer luggage.

  Three years ago it looked like we might get evacuated for a wildfire, so my dad made us pack up the car with things we wanted to save. But our car was filled with things like my mom’s meds, blankets, photo albums, and a change of clothes for each of us. In other words, necessities and irreplaceables. Somehow I doubt Kate’s Louis Vuitton luggage is full of anything other than clothes or her shoe collection. And how useful are those stilettos going to be ever again?

  I look away before Kate has a chance to spot me, because as much as I hate her I’m still glad she’s not dead.

  “Here, let’s go this way,” Ben says as he pulls me toward one of the check-in points.

  There are people everywhere, waiting in line with presumably whatever’s left of their lives, and unless I can find Alex by aimlessly wandering—which would take forever—we need to stand in line like everyone else.

  “I’ll get in line if you want to look around for a second,” Ben says. “Just don’t go far.”

  I nod, though I don’t want to go too far anyway. There’s an irrational comfort in maintaining close proximity. But I also know he’s not just asking about Alex at the check-in. He’s going to ask about Reid and Elijah. And the more I think about it, the more I’m getting used to the idea that Elijah is the one opening portals. After all, the whole reason he was interested in Eric Brandt, back when we were calling him Suspect Zero, was because he wanted to know if Brandt could help him get home.

  I keep the thought to myself, because even if Ben has acknowledged it might be Elijah—even if he knows it deep down—he doesn’t want it to be true. And he still cares about him. They’ve been through something together I can’t even fathom.

  But someone is opening portals, and we have to stop them. Barclay wasn’t wrong about that.

  Someone’s already set up a wall where people can post pictures and notes about people who are missing, and I find myself standing in front of it. My eyes wander over the smiling faces in the photographs: young, old, black, white, Asian. These people are all loved—and missed—by someone. My throat constricts as I wonder what percentage of them are dead.

  More heartbreaking, though, are the hastily scribbled Post-it notes or the drawings on ripped spiral notebook paper. There’s a certain desperation to those.

  “Did you need paper and a pen to write something?” a weary but familiar voice asks the woman scanning the board next to me. A sense of relief that is becoming ever more familiar washes over me.

  I wait until she and the woman are finished before saying her name. “Cecily.”

  She looks up at the sound of my voice, and her red-rimmed eyes widen when she recognizes me. Then she launches herself in my direction, her arms latching onto me.

  “Oh my God, J, everyone thought you were dead! Your house … and you weren’t in school … and no one knew where you were!” she says, and she keeps talking, b
ut as she starts to cry it’s clear I’m not going to be able to understand much more.

  “Cecily,” I say with a smile as I push her away from me and try to force her to look at me. “Take a breath.”

  She nods and tries—to no avail—to get control of herself. But at least I know she heard me.

  I think she says something again about how she thought I was dead.

  “Cecily, have you seen Alex at all? Ben and I—”

  “Oh my God, Alex!” Cecily says with wide eyes. “He doesn’t know? Oh, you have to go see him. Come on!”

  She starts pulling me toward the stadium ramp, and I’m genuinely caught off guard by how strong she is. “Ben!” I shout, pulling back and digging in my heels. “Hold up, Cee.”

  And then through a wall of people I see Ben burst out, scanning for me. I wave, and I can see his body relax when he realizes I’m with Cecily.

  I hold my hand out for him and then he’s there, his fingers curling around mine. Cecily looks from me to Ben and back to me again, wide-eyed and mouthing the word “oh” before her whole face morphs into the happy girl I know with the infectious smile. She even giggles as we run after her up the ramp.

  I’m at least glad something hasn’t changed.

  We find Alex in the nosebleed section, eating a hot dog and reading Outliers.

  “Seriously?” I ask, ready to tease him—and a little relieved I still can. “You’re still doing homework?” But as I get closer, I realize he’s not reading Outliers. His eyes are red, and the tracks of his tears are visible on his face through the dust and sweat caked to his skin. The book is just sitting open on his lap, like he doesn’t know what else to do, and that hot dog has probably sat untouched for a while.

  When I put my hand on his shoulder, he looks up, and for a second, it’s like he doesn’t even recognize me. He just stares.

  And then something clears in his eyes, and he grabs my arm and pulls me into him for a hug. It’s awkward and uncomfortable the way I’m leaning over him, but I don’t care. I feel the way his body shakes, and I know he’s crying.