Devastation Erupts Read online

  Aidan slides a palm across his face, wiping the smirk off of it. “You’re right. We need a plan.”

  “What about public transportation?” Riley asks. “Do we have enough money for bus tickets? I mean, I don’t even know if there’s a bus station around here, but if your phones are working, maybe you could look it up?”

  Jeff whips his cell phone from his pocket, waving it around like a magic wand. “Let’s have a look here.” He swipes the screen once, scrunches his face in confusion and swipes it again. His shoulders slump in realization. He runs a hand through his hair and focuses on the ground.

  “Um, I guess I left it on after I charged it and it’s kinda dead.” When I still had my phone, I was acutely aware of where it was and when it needed to be charged. At all times. I get the feeling Jeff’s one of those people who never seems to know when his battery’s about to die. Aidan pats him on the back.

  “It’s okay, man. I’ve got mine.” He pulls his phone out and powers it on. How responsible of him—actually saving the power when he’s not using it. He swipes a few screens before glancing up, a smile spreading across his face.

  “There’s a bus terminal less than two miles from here, north. So it’s kind of on the way. Who’s up for one more hike?”

  It’s not much of a pep talk, but it’s enough. A cascade of affirmations meets his question.

  “Let’s do it!” “Come on, let’s hurry.” “I’m in.”

  With a renewed purpose, we swallow every last bite of food and gulp every last drop of water before gathering our bags.

  We hustle toward our destination, guided by Aidan’s phone.

  “Anyone know how much a bus ticket costs?” Riley asks. She’s met with four shaking heads.

  “We should probably figure out how much money we have,” Jeff suggests. Our pace naturally slows as everyone but Chris digs into either a wallet or a backpack. Riley fishes the lavender wallet out of her matching backpack, brandishing twenty-six dollars.

  Jeff’s cheeks flush crimson as he slides a measly seven dollars out of his wallet. I can’t criticize, though. I was fully planning on sponging money from my parents on our vacation. My fingers clasp around a loose ten-dollar bill floating around in my backpack amongst the random items I’ve deemed as necessities.

  Jasmine’s dad, Lucas, had given Aidan forty dollars just in case we needed cash on our way home. After paying for the dog biscuits, he’s got about twenty-six bucks left. Adding his own money to the stash, it brings our combined net worth up to a hundred and nine dollars. Somehow, I doubt we’ll be able to buy five bus tickets with that amount.

  Hope deflates just as quickly as it skyrocketed. We continue in silence, seeking brief respite from the sun under the sparse trees lining our path.

  By the time we reach the bus terminal, it’s no longer the beacon of hope we briefly believed it to be. We all huddle around the ticket booth and lob questions at the bored-looking woman behind the window. She alternates between yawning and eye rolling as we explain our need to reach Delaware.

  The terminal is nearly empty. Few feet pass over the shiny, waxed floors. With a few quick pecks on her keyboard, she informs us that the closest drop-off point along the bus route is Dover. And the one-way ticket would be fifty-one dollars. Per person.

  We release a collective sigh when the woman asks, “Would you like to purchase boarding passes?”

  “We don’t have enough money,” Riley says miserably. The woman purses her lips and a brief moment of sympathy passes over her features. It quickly returns to her previous bored stance.

  “Please step aside then. I’ve got to assist the paying customers.”

  We skulk to the side of the open space, careful to avoid blocking the ticket window from the hordes of nonexistent customers this woman must anticipate. Once again blame slithers through my mind. If we didn’t stop to free the dogs, we would still have a car and we’d be that much closer to home.

  Aidan runs a hand through his ruffled hair. “Now what?”

  “We could try to borrow a car,” Jeff says, waggling his eyebrows.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Riley whispers, her eyes sliding back and forth as if police might spring from the corners and arrest us for even thinking about stealing a car.

  “Alright, let’s go outside since we’re clearly not making any progress in here,” Aidan suggests. Shuffling to the parking lot, we plop down on parallel benches, brainstorming exactly zero options.

  My eyes catch movement as a muscular guy with a shaved head turns the corner of the train station. He throws us a bored look before proceeding to a parking space, starting his truck, and peeling out of the lot.

  About a minute later, a tall, lanky guy with a baseball cap pulled down all the way to his eyebrows follows the same path. How many other people are back there? And what are they doing?

  This guy notices us too. He does a double take before slinking toward us, like a used car salesman about to close a deal. He narrows his eyes and levels us with a cautious gaze.

  “Are you here to make a purchase?” he asks. What?

  “I don’t think we’re in need of what you’re selling,” Jeff answers for us. Oh my gosh. Is this guy a drug dealer?

  Glancing around the group, as if seeking approval, Jeff adds, “But maybe there is something you can help us with.”

  My stomach churns with apprehension as I listen to the negotiations.

  “Look, we need to get to Delaware, but we don’t have enough money for bus tickets,” Jeff explains. “Any chance you offer a taxi service?”

  Baseball cap guy admits that he’s got a car and he wouldn’t mind making some cash. When he asks how much we have, Aidan confidently states, “Forty. We have forty bucks.”

  I bite back the smirk that wants to broadcast the lie. The guy narrows his eyes in disbelief but doesn’t challenge it. He can’t be that much older than the guys. I’d guess he’s in his mid to late twenties.

  “Alright. I’ll take it, but we leave right now. I’ve got other business to attend to this evening,” he announces. Riley’s wide eyes express her disbelief. I hitch a shoulder up.

  The lump gathering in my throat begs me to protest but I know we have no other choice at this point. We can’t sit at a train station all night. Money isn’t going to magically appear for tickets.

  Jeff looks to each of us and, other than Chris, we all give tentative nods. The kid just shrugs his shoulders and throws his hands out at his sides in an over-exaggerated I-don’t-know gesture.

  With pinched features, Aidan blows out a defeated breath. “Yep, you got yourself a deal.”

  Chapter 33

  The guy leads us through the parking lot to an old maroon boat of a car. He smiles, tossing a palm toward the clunker as if he’s presenting a chariot. I glance at the scripted text on the tail end. A Plymouth Fury. This thing looks ancient.

  “Here’s our ride,” he says. “Hop in, let’s go.”

  With one last apprehensive glance our way, Aidan yanks the passenger door open. The door squeaks on its hinges, groaning with effort. He motions for Chris to crawl in the front seat before he follows.

  Jeff, Riley, and I pile into the back seat. The stench of stagnant cigarette smoke and must hover within the interior. The ceiling material—it looks like felt—hangs like a loose layer of skin in random spots. The seats and floor harbor dark stains every few inches. My stomach recoils with disgust.

  I glance toward Riley, who has always been a bit of a neat freak. Her delicate fingers twitch. When she catches my eye, she wrinkles her nose. I can tell she’d love to clamp her nose shut, warding off the odors buried deep within the fibers of our latest ride.

  Jeff shakes his head slowly, a silent warning for us to keep quiet. He slides into the middle and motions with a pointer finger on each side for us to “Sit!”

  We oblige, sulking just so that he understands our level of suffering right now. Technically this guy could drive us anywhere and we’d have no way to
stop him. At least we outnumber him five to one. That brings me a tiny bit of comfort.

  As soon as the last door slams shut, our driver wakes the engine and turns to Aidan.

  “So, you the banker here?” Aidan slowly nods, waiting for the guy to elaborate.

  “Then why don’t we just settle up now? Get it over with.” This guy gives me the skeevies. He’s outnumbered, though, so at least we have that going for us. Aidan reluctantly hands over two twenty-dollar bills. The guy snatches them from Aidan’s hand, thrusts them into his pocket, and throws the car into drive.

  The guy says his name is Ace. I’m guessing that’s not his real name, but I have no desire to learn anything about him so it suffices. Aidan introduces us and they make small talk in the front seat. I tune it out and focus on the passing scenery.

  We roll past a bank, post office, laundromat, and apartment buildings. We’re finally moving! As much as I would love a hot, decontaminating shower, and clean clothes right now, I’m grateful that we’re finally making some progress in our trip.

  Shuffling through the bags at my feet, my fingers seize the printouts Bowen gave us with the ID tracker numbers. Now’s as good a time as any to see where Jim might be. Besides, we’re heading north and I’d sure like to know if he is too.

  Dipping my hand into the other bag, I close my fingers around the tracking device. Silently, Jeff’s hand shoots over and wraps around mine. He leans closer and whispers, “No. Don’t take that out now. I don’t want this guy to know what kind of equipment we’ve got. If that thing starts beeping or something, he’s gonna ask about it. As soon as we’re out of this heap on wheels, we’ll check. I promise.”

  The seriousness in his eyes stops me in my tracks. I’m not used to it. I nod slowly and he slides the device and papers out of my hand. He smiles, a reassuring signal that I’ve done the right thing, and quietly returns the items to their place.

  I sink further into the cloth bench seat, my eyes focusing on points in the distance while greenery, metal, and glass flash by just beyond the window. My nose and throat grow numb to the smell. Within minutes the outside world fades and my body descends into a dreamless oblivion.

  Shouting yanks me from the darkness. My eyes fly open, searching for anything that might prompt recognition of where I am. Jeff sits next to me and Aidan’s directly in front of me. We’re still driving and the guy—Ace—throws an accusatory finger toward Aidan. “I know you have more money than that!”

  It’s pretty obvious we aren’t dealing with the most upstanding citizen, but still, the guy’s tone is overly-hostile. I saw Aidan pay him, so there shouldn’t be any issue.

  “We had a deal. You agreed to forty bucks and that’s what we gave you.” Aidan’s voice remains steady, but there’s a fierce edge in it that I’ve never heard before. His shoulders stiffen, as if his whole body is alerted to the rising threat.

  “That’s just gonna cover the gas. You know, once I drive you there, I still have to turn around and drive back home!”

  Jeff leans forward, resting an arm on each front seat, and chimes in. “Then I guess you should have thought of that before you made a deal with us.”

  “Hey! This is my car and what I say goes. So you better cough up some more money or I’m stopping this thing and you can all get the hell out and walk.”

  Riley presses both palms to her forehead as if her brain is suddenly clenched in a tightening vice. Although her voice carries just above a whisper, her plea is clear. “Just do it. We have to.”

  Aidan twists in his seat, narrowed eyes fixed on Riley. He shakes his head in disbelief before looking to Jeff. Once again, the guys communicate wordlessly. Jeff leans back in the seat for a moment, then lunges his long arms to the floor, rummaging through the bags at our feet.

  “Look, I don’t got all day,” our chauffer informs us in a slightly less agitated tone. “I think you should listen to the chick and just give me the money. Without me, you ain’t gettin’ home and without more money, I ain’t taking you.”

  “List—” I start, prepared to fully educate this Ace guy on the hazards of referring to my sister as a “chick,” but before I can finish even one word, Jeff waves a hand in my face and shoots me a look that screams, “Stop!” What’s he got up his sleeve?

  As if I can make the whole situation disappear, I drop my head forward and squeeze my eyes shut. Why does life still feel like a nightmare? And when can I wake up from it?

  The crisp click of metal, chased by a buzzing sound, yanks me from my pity party. Snapping my head upright, my heart stutters when the black pistol comes into focus.

  Chapter 34

  Riley openly sobs, wringing her hands in her lap. Jeff levels our gun about four inches away from the back of Ace’s skull. His voice deepens, radiating a gritty quality I’ve never heard before.

  “You are going to uphold your end of the deal.” Ace’s irises slither to Jeff’s reflection in the rearview mirror. “We don’t have much money and we can’t give you everything we have. After you drop us off, we still have a ways to go. Do you understand?”

  Ace’s forehead crinkles when his eyebrows jump. I guess he’s not used to being reasoned with. He probably expected a counter-threat.

  “Fine,” he says grudgingly. Casting his narrowed eyes to the road ahead, he goes silent.

  Tension occupies every molecule of air within the malodorous car. Jeff rests the gun on his leg, keeping it aimed toward the driver. Knowing that it’s loaded makes my nerves jittery. Thankfully, Jeff’s demeanor has turned serious since he retrieved the gun.

  Silence seems to stretch into days, making the ride that much more uncomfortable. I’m not sure which of us is the most anxious to reach our destination. I think we’re all vying for that title.

  Chris turns toward Ace. I don’t like that the kid has to sit next to that guy, but he definitely fits in the space between the driver and passenger seats better than Aidan would have.

  “Could we listen to the radio?” Chris asks innocently. Ace raises his lips into a sneer that quickly turns sickly sweet.

  “Sure, kid. Have at it.” He flashes a smile at the rest of us. His superficial pleasantries raise the hairs on the back of my neck. There’s no need to act, we all know he’s a slimeball.

  Chris cranks the volume up, neutralizing the lingering hostility. He scans for music. When the radio lands on a news report, Aidan halts the search.

  While the East Coast wraps up final recovery efforts resulting from last month’s great earthquake, roadways have been cleared and power has been restored to most areas impacted by the disaster.

  Although some damaged vehicles and belongings have not yet been claimed, they have been removed from the roadways. Contact your local police station for assistance in recovering items lost or left behind.

  The steady female voice falls silent for a moment. Chris raises a hand to hit the scan button again, but Aidan quickly lifts his palm, pausing the kid’s action.

  The voice returns, this time slower and lacking the confidence portrayed just a moment ago. It’s as if the announcer disbelieves her own words:

  This just in, we’re receiving reports of unusual geothermic and seismic activity in Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming. A spokesperson from the Yellowstone Volcano Observatory has stated that there is no cause for alarm. The agency monitors seismic activity, changes in the land surface, and chemical signals from gases released in the area.

  Yellowstone is one of the world’s largest active volcanic systems. While it has been thousands of years since the last major eruption, future eruptions are likely.

  A major or super eruption would likely have global consequences—shifting weather patterns, disrupting food production, and temporarily cooling large areas of the Earth.

  We’ll report more as additional information is released. And now, back to the music.

  The announcer’s abrupt transition leaves us in stunned silence. Bowen was right, but he said the government was keeping this from the pub
lic. Somehow it leaked. If news stations are getting conflicting reports, they probably don’t know what to say. A strong warning could cause a mass exodus or panic. But no warning at all would leave so many vulnerable if the threat really was imminent.

  My heart races as I contemplate the words we just heard. Jeff squeezes his eyes shut and rubs his forehead as if the information physically pains him. Riley’s fearful eyes seek mine. She clutches her hands together, nervously shuffling one over the other.

  “How would a volcano make the Earth cold?” Chris asks. I wasn’t sure how much of that the kid understood. Aidan raises his eyebrows and shoots the backseat dwellers a side eye. He’s definitely most qualified to answer.

  “Well, when a volcano erupts, it releases ash into the air,” he explains. “They’re like little particles of dust and they can stay in the atmosphere for months. They block sunlight and that makes the Earth cooler than it would normally be.”

  Ace shoots a hand toward the dash and powers off the radio. “No way that’s happening, so quit boring me with your speech. You keep that up and I might fall asleep at the wheel.”

  Maybe, just maybe, if this guy wasn’t a total ass, we would warn him that this is a very real possibility. But the more time we spend with him, the more convinced I am that he wouldn’t believe us anyway.

  Although the ride is mostly silent, hostility charges the air. Ace fixes his eyes on the road, occasionally sliding a glare our way in the rearview mirror. When we cross the Delaware border, elation seeps through my cells. I’ve waited a long time for this. I glance toward Riley and her smiling eyes meet mine.

  The passing scenery awakens memories. We’re actually getting close. We navigate around the sections of highway that still display evidence of the Route One gridlock caused by the earthquake. Besides unmoving vehicles, additional damage remains—billboards that have toppled over and bridges blocked off and closed. I’m sure recovery continues. I would find comfort in any progress if I hadn’t been warned of what’s coming.