Yield (33 page)

She sprints to the back of the room, but her feet stop short. An icy paralysis instantly shoots into Katherine. Tyler is lying on the floor behind a desk, deathly pale and starting to shake.

Please, no
…
,
her heart screams out. She looks down at her baby boy, unable to move. Her body heaves.

Katherine closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to summon the strength her family needs. She kneels, smoothing back Tyler
’
s hair.
“
It
’
s going to be okay, honey,
”
she chokes.
“
Mommy
’
s here.
”

Haley
’
s rebellious eyes crack. Tears run down her face as she watches her gentle brother convulsing violently on the floor.

“
Haley,
”
Katherine says, wiping at her own tears.
“
Get the insulin kit in my purse.
”

“
Come on, Ty,
”
Haley whispers. The teenager stares down at her brother
’
s twitching body, unable to look away.

“
Haley!
”
Katherine shouts. She grabs Haley
’
s arm and forces the young woman to look into her eyes.

They
’
re filled with a fear more crippling and uncertain than anything Haley has ever seen.

“
Get the kit. It
’
s on the passenger side of the van,
”
Kat barks, squeezing painfully on Haley
’
s arm.
“
Go!
”

Haley wipes her eyes. She hesitates just long enough to nod before taking off as fast as she can into the school.

Katherine clutches her son
’
s head softly to her chest, rocking him back and forth.
“
Shh. You
’
re okay, baby boy. Just breathe. Nice and easy. I
’
ve got you
,
”
Kat whispers.
“
I
’
ve got you.
”

She glances up, watching the seconds each tick like an eternity off the wall clock. Tick
…
Tick
…

The beating sound of life escaping echoes coldly across the colorful room. Katherine looks down at her son
’
s pasty, white skin, gently caressing the side of his face.

Tick
…
.

“
We
’
re gonna go on that trip to Disneyland you wanted,
”
she says.
“
Daddy
’
s taking some time off work. It
’
ll be so much fun. Castles and games and rides
…
You
’
ll love it, Ty.
”
Katherine tries to smile, imagining her children playing in the warm sunlight of a midsummer day.

Tick
…
..

Her smile quickly fades. Tears roll down her cheeks as she cradles her dying son.

Tick
……

“
Come on, baby,
”
she pleads. His thin body begins to shake harder in her arms.

Tick
……
.

Suddenly the convulsions stop. His body goes limp.
“
Stay with me,
”
she cries. Her son
’
s eyes are barely open. Unmoving.
“
Tyler!
”

Tick
……
..

“
Tyler!!
”
Katherine screams. His lips are blue, his breathing ragged and shallow.

Tick
………
.

Tyler
’
s eyelids twitch and flutter as Haley scrambles back into the room. The teenager fumbles with a black pouch, her hands shaking. She drops to her knees beside them. Looking back and forth from the kit
’
s zipper to her brother
’
s motionless body, the bag slips from her hands.

Tick
…………

“
Take his head!
”
Katherine orders. She lifts the boy
’
s head gently over to his sister and snatches the black pouch off the ground.

Tick
…………
..

She pulls out the syringe and quickly loads it with insulin. Katherine blinks back her tears, checking the needle one last time. She pulls up the boy
’
s shirt slightly and quickly administers the shot to her son
’
s still abdomen.

Katherine tosses the needle aside, watching Tyler
’
s body in desperation. Every hope and desire within her begs that they aren
’
t too late.

Tick
…
.. Tick
…………………

Slowly at first, Tyler
’
s breathing becomes deeper. Even. Faintly, the boy groans. His body moves weakly in her arms.

“
That
’
s my boy,
”
Katherine whispers. A feeling of immeasurable gratitude and relief floods through her. It fills Kat with an appreciation so deep, so profound
,
that nothing will ever be the same
. She pulls her son tight to her chest.

As the dark clouds break, sunlight begins to pour through the large row of windows beside them. She gives Tyler a long, loving kiss on the forehead.
“
Let
’
s get you home,
”
Kat
says. The thought of their Eden forcefully beckons.

Tyler in her arms, Katherine walks through the brilliant rays of light and heads back out through the classroom door. Her daughter soon follows, slowly moving from the shadows and into the sun.

Loose water shoots from Katherine Bane
’
s minivan as she hits a speed bump doing 60. Shock fills her hazel eyes, cutting lines of fear along her forehead. Cars pack the streets. Panic flies with them down Portland
’
s teeming roadways. Even in the heavy traffic, Katherine
’
s attention keeps drifting uncontrollably down to the dark words emanating from her stereo.

She passes an accident pushed off to the shoulder. Two drivers get out and exchange heated words, then punches, before one pulls out a crowbar. Without hesitation, he slams it into the other man
’
s face. Katherine cries out as the dead man crumples to the ground.

“
To maintain order in the affected regions, martial law has now been declared nationwide,
”
the news reporter says.
“
Local law enforcement and military officers will be implementing those orders
…
”

Katherine glances worriedly up at the black skies covering the entire northern horizon. Darkness stretches into the heavens, bathing the city in a panicked dusk. She jerks the wheel onto a side street.

Please, God. Let Devin be okay
, she prays.

“
We are also starting to hear
…
unconfirmed reports of hostiles being
…
spotted in
…
”
A swell of static suddenly turns into an alert tone sounding loudly through her speakers.

The single note is piercing, shriller than anything she
’
s ever heard. The vibrating sound waves rattle the change in her ashtray. Hairs on the nape of Katherine
’
s neck begin to tingle.
“
What the hell?
”
she says, switching to a different channel. The alert tone plays back from every station on her presets.
Nothing?
Her eyes go wide.

Turning back onto 82nd, she guns it. People swarm down sidewalks and streets. Katherine taps the AM button, her finger pausing.

Static
…

She scrolls past several other presets. Searching. Hoping.
“
Come on!
”
The need to know grows into a consuming desperation, almost overwhelming her fractured nerves. Katherine
’
s heart jumps.

“
…
infrastructures in those cities have been completely destroyed,
”
a voice returns.
“
The New York Stock Exchange is gone. Completely gone
…
”

Katherine passes her local U.S. Bank branch on the corner, watching on while they forcibly close and lock their doors. A large mob of people cluster around the entrance. Hands pound on the glass, but the security guard just shakes his head from inside. Bodies beg to be let in. Terror presses against the windows. The savings of generations, built from a lifetime of blood, sweat, and sacrifice, stays trapped securely within.

“
Financial markets still active around the world are in free-fall, taking massive losses as investors pull whatever money they have left out of banks and institutions
…
”

People push in and out of a grocery store on the other side of the street. Their carts overflow with water and piles of food. A green-smocked employee puts a large, hastily-scrawled sign up on the front window. WATER: $6/GALLON.

“
Food and supplies, we
’
re told, will run out quickly in locations closest to the impact zones. The Federal Emergency Management Administration says relief aid has been mobilized but might not arrive for some time. They warn outlying areas to brace themselves for an influx of refugees fleeing the damage
…
”

Sirens get louder as she flies over a familiar crosswalk. She eases slightly on the accelerator, veering her minivan to the right. The BMW in front of her barely yields when the ambulance screams past. The wailing sound gets lower and lower, its tragedy receding into the distance.

“
Major cities all across the U.S. have been put on high alert,
”
the anchor continues.
“
With our leaders
…
refusing
…
to
…
”
But the odd emergency tone again overtakes the news report. Its sharp pitch slices through freedom like a knife. Katherine hits the search button over and over, but only the piercing tone blares back at her from all frequencies. No music, no commercials — only the monotonous shriek of silence broadcasting oblivion over the airwaves.

Katherine jumps on her van
’
s parking brake with both feet. It skids to a stop beside a row of cars along Columbia Academy
’
s curb. A cloud of white smoke billows behind the vehicle, carrying the stink of melted tires with it.

People are running everywhere. The blaring of sirens and emergency vehicles booms through the air.

Kat throws the door open and lunges out of the van, hurtling steps two at a time up the walkway. Kids and parents dart across the grounds, searching and shouting for each other in the chaos. Katherine spins. Her eyes frantically hunt for her children, but the sea of blue uniforms blur identities and faces together. Her heart is pounding.

She sees a young boy and a teenage girl with blue backpacks running at the edges of the crowd.
“
Tyler! Haley!
”
she shouts.
“
Over here!
”
She runs several feet toward them before the children turn. Their real mother is
already
there to sweep them away.

Katherine pivots and starts moving against the crowd. Dread knots in her stomach. Nausea chokes her throat. She pushes against the sea of people, but her babies are gone.
“
Haley! Tyler!!
”
she screams.
Gasping,
she hunches over, hands on her knees.

“
Mom!
”
a familiar voice shouts in the distance. Her head snaps up. Katherine glances from face to face, trying to pinpoint the sound. She pushes into the pack again. Even as the cries of a hundred other voices fill the yard, her maternal instincts somehow direct her toward the sounds of her own.