Devastation Erupts Page 21

  We ease up against the nearest wall and count to three before lowering to the ground in one clumsy drop. For just a moment we allow our breathing to slow and our bodies to rest.

  My eyes drift across the floor, pausing to notice that Riley must have busied herself while she was waiting for us. Two stainless steel bowls sit directly across from us, one brimming with water and the other with kibble. It’s a good thing our aunt thought to pack some of Snickers’ belongings too. I’m not sure we would have thought to do it.

  I brush the dots of sweat lining my forehead away. “Riley, we need to go out and unload the truck. Aidan’s dad wants us to finish that and get the truck hidden.”

  Aidan slides his feet forward, as if preparing to stand, but I quickly shut that down with a warning scowl. “Please, stay here. We can’t have you get hurt. Again.”

  Riley crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. “Don’t even tell me you were thinking about lugging heavy objects around when you can barely walk on your own!”

  He drops his gaze in defeat. Before he can change his mind, Riley and I scramble to the door and reposition the wooden triangle to prop it open. We can wedge one of the larger boxes from the truck just inside to hold it open wider, but that’s going to be a two-person job. I don’t even want to think about how heavy some of that stuff looked.

  Dust masks in place, we push outside. I’m two steps behind Riley when she stops in her tracks. Not expecting an impromptu game of red light-green light, I slam into her back, jolting her forward. Gasping to replace the air knocked from my lungs, I start to demand, “Riley! What the—” but the words die on my lips.

  A uniformed police officer stands just a few feet before us, casually leaning one arm on the blue truck’s tailgate. Except for his eyes, the full facial mask blocks his features. Still, amusement radiates when he cocks his head to the side and tips his head in our direction. I imagine his lips twitching into a loose smirk behind that respirator as he watches us awkwardly straighten from our collision.

  Chapter 65

  Although my first instinct is to run, I know that’s not an option. He’d just chase us and while I was practically a master distance runner on my high school track team, Riley would never make it very far. And honestly, my legs are pretty much jelly at this point. Besides today’s overexertion, every muscle in my body quivers in anticipation of speaking with our surprise visitor.

  Either losing patience or bored by our lack of response, the officer straightens and staggers toward us. Riley clasps her hands together and politely calls, “Hello, sir.”

  He stands before us, a tower of muscles packaged in a light gray button–down shirt and dark gray fitted pants. As if the belt of various self-defense hardware wrapped around his waist isn’t enough, he’s got to be at least a foot-and-a-half taller than us. His deep voice verbalizes the first question. “Ladies, is this your truck?”

  Instinctively, Riley and I turn toward each other. The simple answer is no, but there’s no way he’ll just accept that and leave. Riley’s brain works faster than mine.

  “It’s not ours, sir, but it does belong to our friend.” She always falls back on honesty. Definitely not my first instinct, but let’s see how this approach works for us.

  “And where is this friend?” he asks. Although he wears a neutral expression, from what little I can see of his face, doubt lingers in his tone.

  “He’s kind of busy right now,” I say, acutely aware that it’s not the smartest thing I’ve ever said. Silence stretches around the three of us. I use the moment to glean whatever information I can. A silver border frames the black nametag bearing six white letters: CROSBY. No title or first name. I shift my attention to his face, or at least what shows through the clear parts of his mask.

  The officer can’t be that much older than us, but his red-rimmed eyes broadcast an exhaustion that would probably even make SpongeBob nasty. The slight forward tilt of his head beckons me to provide a better answer. I’ve got nothing.

  With slumping shoulders and a deep exhale of defeat, Riley answers, “He’s inside the caverns.” She points to the door we just passed through. “There was kind of an accident and we can’t get to him, but we were asked to unload his truck.”

  The officer’s eyes widen in surprise and his spine stiffens. “Take me to where you last saw him,” he commands, his voice a low rumble. This revelation has definitely changed his demeanor. Maybe the truth wasn’t such a great choice.

  As if we’re being led to prison, Riley and I trudge toward the doorway. Aidan’s right on the other side, and now we’re bringing him one more reason to worry about his family and what was supposed to be a safe haven.

  Grasping the handle, I yank it open and Riley leads the way inside.

  Unmoved from where we left him, Aidan looks so peaceful with his eyes closed and his head resting against the stone wall. That lasts for about one second. As soon as Snickers eyes the stranger, he blazes into a barking frenzy, sending Aidan into a panicked alertness.

  The officer removes his mask and rubs his head where the seal must have been tightest. Indentations in his hair give him a serious case of hat head. Aidan’s shocked reaction dissolves when he meets the officer’s tired eyes. Recognition dawns and a smile overtakes his face. The officer rushes past us, dropping to his knees by Aidan’s side.

  “Matt!” Aidan greets the stranger. They lean toward each other, doing that guy greeting that starts with a high five, shifts into a brief handshake and ends with a quick bro hug.

  Chapter 66

  Riley and I stare, stunned. She breaks free from the stupor first and grabs Snickers, making her best effort to calm him down. She’s largely unsuccessful, so I join her in begging the dog to ignore the excitement that accompanies having a new person to sniff.

  The guys talk while we distract the dog. No matter how hard I strain to overhear their conversation, I can’t make out enough words to piece together a complete sentence.

  After a few minutes, the officer rises. Retrieving a flashlight from his belt, he sweeps the beam of light through the darkness below briefly. With just a moment’s pause to evaluate the stability of the railing and steps, he charges downward, inevitably seeking the rest of our party.

  With Snickers mostly calmed, I rush to Aidan’s side. “Who is that? How do you know him? What’s he doing?” Those crystal blue eyes narrow as his nose wrinkles and he chuckles.

  “It’s okay. That’s Jeff’s brother. He’s with the state police.” He runs a hand through his hair, scattering a few dust particles clinging to the ends. “He’s not supposed to be here. He works two hours away but just finished up a double shift and came to check on his family.”

  “I guess his parents probably told him they were coming here, huh?” I don’t wait for an answer. I have way too many questions. “Does he know anything about the police that tried to visit us earlier?”

  “No, but he’s going to swing by the local station after he leaves here and see what he can find out.” Aidan shrugs. “If anything, he’ll help us. He won’t go back and report that we’re here or anything. In fact, he’ll probably try to keep them from coming back here.”

  I lean forward, paranoia drawing me closer. “Do you think he’ll be mad that Jeff is hurt?” I whisper. “I mean, I know you said you don’t blame Snickers, but you aren’t Jeff’s very tall, very strong-looking brother.”

  With mock indignation, he crosses his arms. “I’m just as tall and muscular as he is, but I’ll let your comment slide on account that particulates may be clouding your vision right now.”

  I’m still tense from the stress of the unexpected visitor, but a hint of a genuine laugh escapes.

  “Anyway, just between us, Jeff and Matt aren’t exactly close.” He emphasizes the last word, raising his eyebrows in an attempt to convey his sincerity. “They’re kind of like…ammonia and bleach. Sort of like, when they come in contact with each other, it doesn’t exactly end well.”

  Phew, not that I wish for family
discourse, but that may help relieve us from all the blame once he discovers that Jeff’s hurt. Obviously, by Matt’s reaction, he cares about his family. I just hope he doesn’t ask too many questions about how it happened.

  Riley wanders over with Snickers. He’s finally stopped yapping. She crouches and whispers, “Is everything okay…Are you okay?”

  Aidan nods. “The pain is fading already. Nothing’s broken. I can tell.” Then, as if to distract us from our worry, he extends his arms. “I’ll take Cujo. You two better start unloading that truck before it draws attention. Leave the heavy stuff. Matt can carry that in.”

  “Alright,” Riley states. “As long as you promise to stay right here and take it easy until we can take a look at that leg.”

  “Deal,” he says with one sharp nod.

  About ten trips later, my arms quiver with exhaustion. We’ve unloaded and tucked about ninety percent of the truck’s contents within every open inch of unoccupied space inside the entrance door. The space is packed, but there’s no way I’m carrying all this stuff down the zillion flights of stairs tonight.

  The clack of hard-soled shoes bounces off the stone walls, alerting us to Matt’s return. Unless by some miracle he managed to free the others. A moment later, a single head appears, confirming that the situation below has not changed.

  Matt lowers himself to Aidan’s side when he returns from the depths. Sensing their preference for privacy, Riley scoops up Snickers and bunches his leash in her palm. Bobbing her head toward the door, she mouths “Let’s go.” I nod in agreement.

  There’s really no need to eavesdrop. I’ve got big plans to grill Aidan after Matt leaves. And I’m sure Riley will back me up on that.

  Besides, the dog could probably use a trip outside, especially since we haven’t designated an indoor bathroom area for him. I’m guessing that’s what we’ll have to do. Otherwise, Riley or I would have to leash him and take him out every few hours. That’s not going to work if the plan is to seal the door. Although not much is going according to plan right now.

  Slinking along the building’s perimeter, we lead Snickers away from the parking lot. Although there’s no other movement, we attempt to blend into the thinly-wooded patches of growth. After several unsuccessful attempts to hurry Snickers along, we trail behind him as he leads us deeper into the property.

  Buildings are sparse, but the few nearby structures are similar to the one that serves as our portal to the depths. I can’t tell if they are additional entranceways to the caverns or just random outbuildings. When the ground starts crunching beneath my feet, I stop to examine our surroundings.

  Although a smattering of leaves dot the trees, most rest on the ground, frozen in a state of decomposition. If this were October, it would be a completely expected sight.

  Now that I look more closely, even the grass beneath my feet bears more yellow than green. Maybe it’s just dry and needs water. The ash couldn’t have impacted it that fast.

  “Riley, why are most of the leaves on the ground in the middle of summer?” I ask, knowing she doesn’t have any more information than I do. She stops mid-step and hands me Snickers’ leash.

  “Maybe this is why,” she says, pointing straight ahead.

  Chapter 67

  She reaches forward, placing a gentle palm on the narrow tree trunk. I’m not sure what type of tree it is, but it’s obvious that the smoky black hue ringing its length is unhealthy. At some point it was probably as thick as a fire hydrant but nowhere near as sturdy.

  Bark spikes upward at unnatural angles, shards of the protective outer layer reduced to exposed splintered black innards. It looks as though it was peeled away by massive careless claws that grew bored halfway through the task.

  “It looks like it’s dying,” Riley says quietly. Whipping her head back and forth, her tangled brown locks flop in the corrupt air. “They’re all dead. Look at them, Quinn.” Tangling her hands together, she practically broadcasts her spiraling anxiety.

  “What if this is happening everywhere? What if it’s spreading?” she asks. “We can’t breathe if all the trees die. And something’s got to clean this air.” She thrusts her hands to the sky as we both sweep our eyes across the immediate ecosystem, and everything that’s wrong with it.

  Snickers excitedly pokes his nose along the ground, staking claim on the perfect spot. Just as he’s kicking up tufts of dried grass with his back paws, an engine revs, slicing through the bleak silence.

  As if it’s a ringing bell, signifying that recess is over, we wander toward it. I tug on Snickers’ leash, attempting to coax him from the irresistible scents that keep his snout planted to the ground.

  The blue truck rolls past us, close enough to see that Jeff’s brother is driving. Well, that makes one less thing for us to do—hiding the truck somewhere on the property.

  He acknowledges us with a slight nod. When he was talking to Aidan and removed the mask, I could see the family resemblance. He’s like an older, more serious version of Jeff. A much more serious version.

  We return to find Aidan limping around the small entrance space, shifting and sliding packages into every sliver of open space like a reverse game of Jenga. Besides slightly widening the path from the door to the steps, he’s also cleared away a rectangular area against the wall.

  “We told you to rest!” Riley scolds him, rushing to his side and relieving him of the bag he was attempting to wedge into a miniscule opening between two boxes. “We can do this.”

  He starts to protest, but Riley and I flank each side and escort him to the wall. Backing up against it, he slides down until he lands on his butt. “Why don’t you two join me down here? I’ve got to catch you up on what’s happening.”

  Lowering ourselves to the ground next to him, we listen intently. The dusty dirt floor gives my achy muscles a welcome reprieve. Snickers must be worn out, too. He circles a few times before scuttling between my legs and Aidan’s, plopping into a napping position and letting gravity overtake his eyelids.

  Now that the supplies are all inside and the truck is hidden, this would have been when we barricaded the door shut and took up residence in the caverns below. Aidan’s dad even mapped out how we would use each room and form our own little interconnected mini-city. Not that it does us much good at the moment.

  The group downstairs continues to unpack and settle. They have most of the supplies—items Aidan’s and Jeff’s parents started bringing over last week. The rest of the stockpile surrounds us.

  Jeff’s pretty banged up. They’re focusing on relieving his pain, but it sounds like the tunnel collapse nearly broke his back. We have no doctor, but his parents are guessing that he’s got some slipped discs and pinched nerves. Every movement hurts and he won’t even try to stand, so they’re keeping him as immobile as possible. Otherwise, they’ve been able to patch up the scratches and scrapes plaguing his arms and legs. At the moment, he’s stable.

  Aidan’s dad is insistent that everyone stay away from the rock pile separating us for now. If it’s still intact tomorrow, and presumably stable, we’ll search for a spot to start clearing away rubble—slowly and carefully. Sounds like it’s going to be a blast.

  Chapter 68

  Aidan confirms that Matt is gone for the night. He’ll return in the morning with tools to help dig through the tunnel. Apparently, he’s the only one Aidan’s dad trusts to dig through. That’s probably a good thing. I’m sure Matt’s much stronger than me or Riley. And Aidan’s in no condition for strenuous labor, although I don’t know if anyone down there knows that.

  Riley stretches, fatigue pouring from her elongated yawn. It quickly catches, Aidan and I following suit.

  “Why don’t we eat something and try to get some rest,” Aidan suggests.

  “That sounds good,” Riley confirms, rising to her feet. “I’ll just check Snickers’ food and water first.” Bowls clink as she rearranges the dog’s dining area, topping off the kibble in one bowl and dumping more bottled water into another.
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  Scanning the space, dread stretches to my limbs when I note the absence of a certain necessity.

  “Um, where’s the bathroom?” I ask, fully aware that I won’t like the answer.

  “So, they don’t really have restrooms inside a cave,” he shrugs. “You know, a little tough to work in all the piping and components.”

  Eyebrows raised, I nod, imploring him to continue.

  “Soooooo,” he hedges, gulping. “My dad has some portable devices set up, you know, that everyone can use. That was part of his whole master plan. Being that we’ll only be here for a few weeks.”

  “Go on,” Riley prompts, crossing her arms. As if the pressure bursts inside him, Aidan’s explanation is a flurry of thoughts.

  “There’s a body of water that we can access from a few of the caverns below. So we had this whole plan for bathing and there’s even fish in the lake down there. If food runs low, we can catch and cook them.” He hitches a shoulder up. In theory, it makes sense, but part of me cringes inwardly as he continues.

  I hate seafood. Being expected to catch and eat fish is one tidbit that would have been good to know before we agreed to come here.

  “Once the air cleared up and we needed to start moving everything out of here, we were going to make trips to the gift shop. That has a proper restroom. My dad’s friend who owns the place even gave him a key. But that’s…kind of with my dad, so we can’t really get to the key right now.”

  “Can you pick a lock, like Jeff?” I ask, focused on locating an actual bathroom. How did I not think of this before? He shakes his head.

  “No, that is one skill I have not acquired. But even if I did know how, I couldn’t do that. If we picked it open, we’d have no way to lock it back up. We’d be leaving it open for anyone to just walk up and take whatever they wanted or cause damage.”

  Riley rubs her temples, pinching her eyes shut. “Alright then,” she says. “We’ve got to come up with a plan, because we can’t wait until tomorrow to access even the portable devices.” Her distaste for the term is palpable. I share it.