Yield (48 page)

“
I
’
m fine,
”
he insists. Tyler rearranges the pillows behind him, forcing himself upright with a grunt.

Katherine
’
s eyebrow raises, but she stays silent.

“
I was okay when I got to school,
”
Tyler says.
“
But then I started feeling a little light-headed in homeroom.
”

“
Did you tell the nurse?
”

He sees weakness mirrored in his classmates
’
eyes.
“
I drank some water,
”
Tyler says, his face hardening,
“
and it mostly went away.
”

“
You still should have told somebody,
”
Kat continues. Her eyebrow shoots up again.

“
I know. But then they made some sort of coded announcement over the loudspeaker, and Miss Woods told us to get under our desks for a special drill. I didn
’
t want to make a big deal out of it.
”

The faces of children fill Katherine
’
s mind. All across the country, they crawl under the illusory safety of their desks. Their voices are heartbreaking. A
t first
they laugh, enjoying this new and exciting game
…
then, suddenly, they all cry out. The choir of screaming promise is silenced as nuclear detonations tear their schools apart.

A shiver shoots down the back of her neck.

“
Well, it is a big deal, kiddo. You could have
…
”
Her voice trails off again. She can still feel her son
’
s pale body twitching and writhing in her arms on the classroom floor. She pulls the quilt up higher to her chest.

“
I
’
m sorry,
”
Tyler whispers.

“
I know,
”
Kat scolds. Fear flashes in her eyes.
“
But we
’
ve been over this before. You can still do the things you want. You just have to monitor yourself. Alright?
”
She pulls out a fingertip glucose tester from the medical kit and grabs the GlucoWatch on her son
’
s wrist.
“
That
’
s what these are for.
”

“
Okay.
”
The word comes out with obedient annoyance, anxious to be done with the lecture.

“
Thank you.
”
Katherine leans down and kisses her son
’
s forehead again, trying to balance out the discipline with love.
“
Oh, and don
’
t ever scare Haley like that again. Your poor sister didn
’
t stop crying for an hour.
”

Tyler quickly looks up at her. Lately, the only one-on-one time he
’
s had with his sister has ended in violence and retribution.
“
Haley?!
”

“
I believe that is her name. Yes.
”
Katherine stands up to start dinner. She pulls the blanket up to her son
’
s neck and delicately tucks the bottom under his legs.

“
So, what happened anyway?
”
Tyler asks. His stomach begins to churn even before the words leave his mouth. He knows it was something major but prepares himself for the usual censored explanation so customary of adults.

“
I don
’
t know.
”
Kat stops, her hands freezing on the blanket.
“
I heard bits and pieces, but a lot of the radio and TV stations aren
’
t working right now. None of it makes any sense.
”

“
Was it terrorists?
”
Tyler probes.

“
We don
’
t know.
”

“
Did they hit New York again?
”

“
Yeah, baby. They did.
”
Katherine runs her fingers comfortingly through his hair.
“
Some other cities, too.
”

“
Close to here?
”
Tyler asks. Worry spreads across his eyes.

Katherine looks down at her intelligent detective, knowing she
’
s already said too much. She hesitates.

“
Seattle?
”

Kat looks sharply back at him. His eyes beg for answers. It ages
him
somehow, making
Tyler
seem so much older than the worries of an eight-year-old should.

Katherine sighs.
“
Yeah,
”
she whispers.

“
Is Dad okay?
”
Tyler
’
s eyes fill with tears.

Katherine sits down and puts an arm around her son.
“
I don
’
t know, Ty.
”

“
Did he call?
”

“
The phones are all down. Cell lines are busy,
”
Katherine says. Her heart flutters, trying to convince itself.
“
I
’
m still trying though, baby.
”

Tyler pushes out of the hug and looks u
p
.
“
We need to go find him,
”
he pleads.
“
He might need us. We could
…
”

“
Settle down now,
”
Katherine soothes. She gently takes the boy
’
s shoulders and helps him to lay back. Kat looks down proudly at her fireman in the making. Her smile lights up the room.
“
You
’
ve got your Dad
’
s heroics in you. I
’
ll give you that. You
’
d probably hitchhike the whole way, too.
”

Kat forces the fear from her eyes. She smooths down the curls in her son
’
s hair, trying to set his turbulent world at ease. She pulls the quilt back up to Tyler
’
s chest.
“
Send him a prayer, Ty.
”
Katherine leans down and kisses
his
forehead.
“
Send us all some prayers while you
’
re at it. The world could sure use them right now.
”

Footsteps slowly shuffle along the moonlit streets of Seattle. Isabel and Chris walk on either side of Terra through pockets of clouded shadow. A voice behind them prays in Arabic for peace in the night.

The steel barrel of a shotgun glimmers in Devin
’
s hands, several feet to the front. The fireman stares without expression at the rugged city blocks ahead. Blood spatters now stain his unbuttoned white dress shirt
—
the shirt he wore for an interview in the city that no longer exists.

His normally cheerful green eyes flicker. Storms build just below the surface, testing him. Always testing him.
Murderer
…
He grits his teeth to quiet the voices.
He pleaded
…
begged. But you still pulled the trigger
…
over
…
and over
…

Devin glances down into the open bag slung over his shoulder. A long, square bottle sparkles back in the blue moonlight. The amber liquid swirls inside, beckoning like an old friend too long forgotten.
It
’
s alright. You just need to relax
…
.

He pulls out the bottle of Jack Daniel
’
s and stares at the familiar black label for a moment. The voices are all suddenly silent.

Devin cracks the seal and takes an exploratory drink. Soothing fires of ignorance cascade down inside of him. His eyes close. Blissful oblivion slows his stride. The fireman takes deep advice from Jack
’
s beloved counsel. Devin lets the liquid burn in his mouth before slowly allowing it to pass.
Hello, old friend.
I
’
ve missed you
…

The elated feeling of warmth pours through his entire body. It flows down through his tingling nerves and wraps his skin in an ephemeral embrace. All noise slowly fades. All panic, all regret, washes away.

“
Yeah, that
’
ll make it better,
”
Isabel shouts. She shakes her head disapprovingly. They cross several more blocks before Devin
’
s fevered drinking pace finally slows. The buzzed fireman turns and smiles back.

“
Done yet?
”
Isabel scolds. Her eyes could cut metal.

“
Let him be,
”
Chris whispers. His own demons claw from just within.

As the blocks continue on, an eerie feeling grows inside Isabel. She looks around. The streets feel uncomfortably deserted. Her sharp Latino eyes see nothing. All life seems to have abandoned the dark shadows of this neighborhood.

They approach a series of fences lined with razor-wire surrounding the remnants of a massive government building. Its security gate stands unmanned. Several holes are ripped into the fence on either side. The sounds of cut metal scraping against itself in the wind are chilling
,
l
ike daggers sliding along exposed bone.

SKRIT
…
.SKRIT
…………
.

Chris looks over at a rusted sign. Spray-painted graffiti tags now partially obscure it.

KING COUNTY DETENTION CENTER

The 6
’
7
”
teenager feels his stomach tighten. His eyes dart across the streets.
“
It
’
s not much longer to the freeway,
”
Chris says. He forces Isabel and Terra to quicken their pace.
“
Pick it up unless you want to walk alone,
”
he yells back to Abd.

The Arab
’
s muttered prayer trails off as he lumbers forward to join the others. The buildings rise higher beside them. They cast deep lines of black along the silvery sheen of the roadway.

Suddenly, Isabel gasps. The faint glint of eyes moves through an alley to their left. She stops, trying to distinguish shapes in the dark. Only the shadows stare back at her.

The silence around them grows. The deadly still is unnerving. She begins walking again, her eyes darting from side to side.

The sound of shuffling feet echoes out of an alley mouth fifteen paces to their right. The flight attendant spins, reaching for Chris
’
s arm.
“
You hear that?
”

Chris strains to look into the shadows on his side. Nothing moves.

“
I heard it, too,
”
Abd says. He digs inside his left arm sling for the sharp metal shiv.

Chris gazes into the black for another moment. His heart pounds. Several hulking shapes shift within the darkness. Squinted eyes shine back at him. More appear, growing in the shadows.

“
Come on,
”
Chris barks. He pushes the two women forward, quickly closing the ground to the shotgun in Devin
’
s hands.

The fireman clutches tightly to a half-consumed bottle of liquor in the other hand. A narcissistic haze clouds his emerald eyes.

“
We gotta get out of here,
”
Chris whispers.

Devin keeps walking, lost in his own dark thoughts.
They
’
re slowing you down, mate. You could get home a lot blooming faster without four ungrateful chains dangling from your knickers.
The drunken fireman stumbles on. Cracks in his slick black dress shoes scrape along the roughened pavement.
They
’
re not worth it. They
’
re strangers. Scrape
‘
em off.