The Myriad Resistance (33 page)

“I am proud,” the General continued. “To introduce my granddaughter, Miss Steffanie Garrison.”

I knew my own daughter. Obviously not well enough.

CHAPTER 30

IN THE EYE

“For the waves of death encompassed me, the torrents of destruction assailed me; the cords of Hell entangled me; the snares of death confronted me.”

~2 Samuel 22:5–6, King James Bible

Barbara began to cry with a mixture of horror and relief. Abbs was outraged as she sat bolt upright, clenching her fists while she stared at the radio like it was a hateful thing. I don't know what the reaction was in the back seat because I couldn't turn around, couldn't move, so I stared straight ahead. I felt like a father watching his child pulled out to sea by a large shark while standing helpless on the beach. The only difference between my father and a man-eating shark were gills and a dorsal fin. A suffocating dread began to descend on me. My chest began to constrict so I opened the door and stepped outside. I leaned against the vehicle while taking long and labored breaths. Did I expect my father to harm his granddaughter? No, not in the physical sense anyway, but mentally … I shuddered to think.

“Welcome to the show, Steffanie, and thank you for your service to our country,” the announcer said.

That was a phrase reserved for military members who have served our country, not a naïve twelve-year-old manipulated by a sociopath. I doubted either man made the distinction now, nor did they even care.

“You're welcome,” Steff said in a small voice.

“I understand your family was with you at this camp,” the announcer said. “Do you know where they are now?”

It was obvious the announcer overstepped his bounds when my father answered. He was slow and distinct as if speaking to an idiot.

“They are all in hiding right now,” he said. “I'm sure they will soon see the error of their ways and turn themselves in.”

There was no mention of Abbs, which was a good thing. I was certain that her body was recovered and identified along with everyone else slain at the camp. The general knew and he had not said anything to Steff. I didn't think he was trying to protect her from the horrible news. He was withholding that knowledge from her like an ace up his sleeve until it suited his purpose sometime in the future.

“Where are my mom and dad?” Steff asked. Her voice sounded as small and frightened as it did when she was three years old and terrified by a thunderstorm. My heart went out to her and all my anger and resentment I carried towards her attitude melted away in an instant. I would give anything to have her back right now.

“They're safe,” the general lied to her. “Why don't you tell everyone how you managed to escape and call me?”

Steff could not speak over a whisper, so the general retold her tale for her.

Steff took the change I gave her from Martian Burgers and slipped down the road leading to camp. After a half hour of fumbling about in the dark, she made it to the main road. She then crossed the highway and used the pay phone at the general store. She called my father and waited on the front porch of the store until he arrived with a convoy of soldiers.

“She waited there, just like I told her, until we arrived,” the general said.

The announcer and the general entered into a conversation about the importance of detaining Impals. Neither man heard the comment Steff made as they carried on. I did. It was faint, yet distinguishable, spoken inches from her microphone.

“I just wanted to go home,” she said with a sniffle.

Tears began to streak down my cheeks as I walked to the far side of the clearing and stared up at the Moon. The damned lunar monstrosity hung in the night sky like a taunting eye. I once found it beautiful and unique, now it mocked me. It reminded me that the world has changed and it will never be the same again.

The interview didn't last much longer and Steff was taken off to God knows where. I kicked myself for not recognizing the signs. Her constant sneaking away and hoarding change in a place where currency did her no good should have been obvious red flags. However, the most apparent sign of all was her intense curiosity about the purpose and uses of a payphone. I never in a million years considered Steff would do what she did. In her mind, she believed she was doing the right thing. She thought she was going home. Her immaturity turned out to be much more than a mere annoyance; it was a nightmarish catastrophe. Before the radio interview, I wanted to wrap my hands around the neck of the traitor, whoever they were, and squeeze the life out of them. Now, I wanted to wrap my arms around my daughters and never let them go.

“We've got a place to stay tonight,” Burt said, making me jump. He got out of the SUV and approached behind me. He was only a few feet away.

“Where?” I asked, turning my head in an attempt to conceal my tears.

“Derek and Andrews got ahold of Charlotte, of all people. I guess her family was somewhat well off and they own a mountain cabin outside of Front Royal. We can use it as long as we need. The best thing is, it has electricity and hot running water … God, I swear I will never take it for granted again.”

A hot shower and a night on clean sheets sounded good. Even though we were only in the camp for a little less than a month, it felt like a year. As appealing as it sounded, it still didn't make me feel any better. I didn't think anything would ever make me feel better again.

“Let's go,” I said.

We turned and walked back to the vehicle. It was time to leave. We couldn't stay here any longer, and we had pressed our luck too far. I walked a few feet when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“I'm sorry, Cecil. I truly am,” Burt said with the empathy only a true friend can relay.

I think I acknowledged him; I am not sure. My mind and emotions floated and bobbed like a rowboat on a stormy sea. I shouldn't be driving; still I slid back into the driver's seat and fired the ignition. We turned onto the road and headed towards town.

Burt wrote the directions down on a piece of scrap paper and called them out at the appropriate times on our journey. When we finally got to our destination an hour later, my heart began to pound out of my chest. I didn't remember a single damn minute of the trip; it was as if an hour of my life vanished like jumping to the next chapter on a DVD. Both my body and my mind, not to mention my soul, were spent. As I rolled myself out the door, I knew I was going to be lucky to walk inside.

Even though we were miles away from the nearest house, or paved road, the cabin contained all the amenities we hoped for. The only disappointment was that a large generator in the back provided the electricity. This meant we would need an ample supply of gasoline to keep the lights on for an extended period.

The cabin was a modern rustic with a log façade that ran from its stone foundation to the green metal roofline two stories up. Derek, Andrews and Charlotte sat on the porch in matching high backed rocking chairs.

“Welcome!” Charlotte said as she got up to greet us.

She abandoned our camp after a few days. Danny said it was stress because she wasn't used to being in the field, in harm's way. She was a self-admitted pencil pusher. What she saw and experienced in her short tenure with us was enough to make even the most battle-hardened person's blood curdle. I couldn't blame her one bit and if I was honest with myself, in another situation I might have done the same thing. God bless her for taking a stand though in a time when not many people would.

Her bubbly personality insisted she hug every one of us. When she got to Abbs, she recoiled in shock. Charlotte stared at Abbs as if she was some disgusting thing that just crawled out of the ground. I knew she didn't mean anything by it. If I hadn't been so tired, I might have found a way to warn her. My fatigue took control of my emotions.

“That's right!” I snapped pulling Abbs close to me. “That's right, she is. I'm damn proud of her, too. Do you have a problem?”

Charlotte shrunk away like a wilting violet, shaking her head in apology. I felt bad, yet I was also too tired to care. Apologies would have to wait until I was better rested.

The next thing I knew I ascended the stairs to the porch and entered the large oak front door. It was almost like I was walking outside of myself.

The house contained three bedrooms, two downstairs and one upstairs. My family and I took the one upstairs while Burt and Sally took one of the downstairs rooms. Derek and Andrews took the one right across the hallway. Poor Dr. Winder took the oversize leather sofa in the den, but I don't think he minded. He was glad to be indoors again and not in some ancient shack.

I didn't have time to take in my surroundings as I made a beeline for the bed and collapsed. I fell asleep before my head hit the pillow. I think I heard Barbara say she was going to get a shower and Abbs say she was going to sleep on the daybed. I'm not certain, I could have been dreaming.

When I awoke the next morning, I was not sleepy, but I still did not feel rested. I was sure my night was full of terrible dreams even though I couldn't remember the details of any of them. Barbara was not in bed so I sat up and stared across the room at the daybed sitting in front of a large bay window. The sleeping, luminescent form of Abbs was resting peacefully, lying on her side with her back to me. I didn't have the common thoughts that most people do about Impals such as, why do they sleep. Instead, I wondered if she blamed me. Who could blame her if she did? Most of all, I wondered if she still loved me. I would rather die and enter the Shredder than to think that my daughter did not love me anymore. I was about to call out to her when there was a knock at the bedroom door. I got up and opened the door to see Dr. Winder standing there with a puzzled expression on his face.

“Have you been outside this morning?” he asked, a hint of fear in his voice.

“No, I just got up … why?”

He shook his head as he furrowed his brow.

“I'm not sure. I would like you to come take a look … to confirm if I am crazy or not.”

I didn't need to worry about getting dressed because I hit the bed fully clothed. I glanced over my shoulder at Abbs. She did not seem to be disturbed by Dr. Winder's visit, so I followed him downstairs. Barbara was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. The delicious aroma that met my nose made my mouth begin to water. I didn't realize how hungry I was until then. I felt a leap of excitement in my belly when I considered the prospect of having real cooking on a regular basis.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” she called from the kitchen's arched doorway. “Did you sleep well?”

I knew Barbara better than I knew anybody in the world. I knew beneath the happy Martha Stewart persona, there was a hollow woman. I could see it in her eyes and her demeanor. She was a mother who lost two children in the past twenty-four hours. Maybe not lost to death, or at least death as we have defined it for millennia. Abbs was lost to our limited understanding of life. Steff was in the hands of a zealot lunatic, and I was sure that the brainwashing against us was in full swing. I think I could see Barbara's emotion so clearly because I felt it too. We still had the essence of one of our daughters upstairs and, right now, we must cling to that at all costs.

“Not too bad,” I lied. “I feel a little better this morning.”

At least a half-truth is better than no truth at all.

In fact, I was so numb that I did not feel the pain of my injuries. Nor did I realize I was still wearing the same bandana and jersey.

Dr. Winder and I went outside and descended the steps to the small gravel parking area. He paused for a moment and then pointed up.

“What do you see?” he asked.

I looked up through the horseshoe shaped ring of behemoth oak and pine trees dominating the woods around the cabin. I stared for several long moments before it dawned on me.

“The sky is a little less lavender and has a very faint reddish tint?” I asked.

“And the clouds?” he asked.

I looked up again, not seeing any clouds at first then one slowly drifted over. I stood in puzzled astonishment as I ran my fingers through my hair. “They are orange!”

“Yes, a very distinct orange,” Dr. Winder agreed.

“What does it mean?” I asked.

Dr. Winder frowned for several moments as if considering something unpleasant then shrugged. “I'm not sure, probably nothing,” he said. “Perhaps an anomaly related to particulate matter in the ionosphere.”

“Huh?”

“Pollution,” he said.

In the months since the storm encompassed Earth's atmosphere, I have never ever seen a faint reddish sky, let alone orange clouds. Every day, without exception, the sky was lavender and the clouds were yellow. Maybe pollution increased since the arrival of the storm? I wasn't sure.

I was about to ask Dr. Winder about other possibilities when a bloodcurdling scream erupted from the house. My heart leapt into my throat and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I knew it was Abbs and she was terrified.

I flung the heavy oak front door open as if it was made of paper and bolted up the stairs. Barbara was hot on my heels. Throwing the bedroom door open; it thudded into the wall with a loud bang as Barbara and I tumbled into the room. Abbs was standing beside the day-bed. Her horrified expression was more than I could endure.

She walked towards us as if she was in a trance, her arms outstretched and her mouth silently forming the words,
help me.
I reached out to her to pull her tight to my chest.

“What is it baby, are you okay?” I asked.

The next thing I knew, Abbs wasn't in front of me, she was behind me. She reached from me to her mother with horrified desperation. She passed through me and I did not even feel her, no cold, no warmth; only nothingness. Barbara reached for her. She might as well have reached for a tendril of smoke as her arms passed through Abbs as if she wasn't there.