“Are you serious?”
“I hope so. If not, you’re going to have to pick us out of the desert.”
“I can’t believe it. We’ve really missed you around here.”
“Been busy, have you?”
Her tone turned serious. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“Well, I guess you can fill me in when we get down.”
“Yeah.”
“If you could do us a favor and light up the landing lights, that’d be great.”
“Of course.”
Seconds later, a double row of lights popped on in the sea of darkness below them.
Rachel pushed open the truck door and hurried toward the plane, making it almost all the way there by the time Pax climbed out.
They threw their arms around each other, Pax lifting her into the air as they hugged.
“I can’t believe it’s really you,” she said. “I wasn’t sure if we’d ever see you again.”
“There were a few days there I wasn’t sure about that myself,” he said. He kissed her cheek and set her down, then looked around. “I take it things haven’t exactly been normal around here.”
She almost laughed. “Oh, Pax, I’ve missed you.”
She hugged him again, and started walking with him toward the truck.
“Matt too busy to make it out to say hi?” he asked.
“He’s not here.”
She could feel Pax tense.
“He didn’t—”
“He’s fine,” she said, cutting him off. “Just out on a mission.”
“What kind of mission?”
“I’ll fill you in on everything later.”
“What about Ash and Chloe? Were they able to make it back?”
“Yes, both of them.”
“That’s something, anyway.”
When they reached the truck, they climbed into the back and waited for the rest of the team to get there. Rachel recognized all but two of the men.
When she mentioned this to Pax, he said, “No, that’s my mistake.” He waved the men over. “Rachel, I’d like you to meet Ian Lourdes and Frank Kendrick. They work with the research facility that put us up on Amund Ringnes Island.”
“Researchers?” she asked, confused by why they had come.
“Pilots,” Pax said.
Of course. Someone would have had to—
Pilots.
“Gentlemen, it’s a pleasure to met you,” she said. “I can’t thank you enough for bringing our friends home. I’m guessing you both are pretty tired.”
“Exhausted,” Frank said.
She smiled and asked, “How exhausted?”
Iris had fallen asleep within moments of lying down.
Ben, on the other hand, was wide awake. In what was surely the most eventful couple of weeks in human history, today had been a banner day in his small part of it. Leaving his childhood home, given the current circumstances, would have been traumatic enough, but throw on top of that finding Iris like he had, and then hunting for her after she ran off, was plenty to place the day squarely on top.
He pushed off his mattress and headed down the carpeted aisle.
His initial plan had been to find two rooms in a motel, but the first place he checked was full of the dead. Iris, who by that point refused to leave his side, had been so freaked out she wouldn’t even let him check any other motels. Houses seemed to be out of the question, too. So Ben began looking for anyplace they could sleep halfway comfortably.
“There! There!” Iris had shouted as they were driving around on their search.
“You don’t have to yell. I’m right here,” he told her.
But when he looked to see what had caught her attention, he could almost forgive her outburst. A mattress store. Perfect.
The place turned out to be stocked not only with mattresses, but also sheets and blankets and pillows. It was the jackpot of non-hotel/non-home places to sleep.
He made his way to the back of the store, grabbed a can of soda out of the machine he’d jimmied earlier, and headed back up front, where he sat down on a bed in the window display.
Outside it was as dark as he’d ever seen it. Salinas had apparently lost its power. No street lamps, no lit signage, no emergency lights on in buildings. As strange as the darkness was, he had a feeling it would become the norm from now on, so he knew he’d better get used to it.
He popped open the can and took a sip. The soda was cool, but only because the store itself was cool. That was probably something else he’d have to get used to — not always being able to have a cold drink when he wanted one.
Or heat. Or air conditioning. Or ice.
Those were only a few items on the monstrous list of things he’d have to get used to, he thought. The truths and expectations he’d grown up with were gone.
He stared out into the pitch-black night.
This is the new reality. This is it.
Jilly pulled her blanket tight to her neck. The room was heated, but she was shivering.
We should have all stayed together, she thought. We should have gone with Martina.
On the bed below her, Valerie muttered something in her sleep, “taking it time,” or “taking it, Tim,” or maybe something else entirely. Whatever it was, Valerie sounded panicked. She twisted one way and then the other before falling silent again.
Jilly had no idea if she spoke in her own sleep, but she wouldn’t doubt it.
From the moment they’d arrived at the survival station set up inside Dodger Stadium, Jilly had had a weird feeling about things. The UN officials they’d met with had given them only kind words and smiles, but something felt off.
Each girl had been taken into a room and interviewed individually.
“And you’re from Ridgecrest, too?” Jilly’s interviewer asked.
“Yes.”
“Pretty amazing you were all able to survive.”
“I guess.” On the way to L.A., the girls had decided to keep quiet their belief that they were immune. They didn’t want to chance not being given the vaccine in case they actually needed it. They agreed that if asked whether they’d had the Sage Flu during the spring outbreak, they’d say no.
“Were you and your friends together the whole time?” the interviewer asked.
“For the most part.”
A notation on the page, then, “Did you see any others? Survivors, I mean.”
The girls hadn’t discussed this point. Should she tell the woman about Martina, Noreen, Riley, and Craig? “I didn’t see anyone,” she said. If the other girls wanted to tell their interviewers about Martina, so be it. She didn’t feel right doing it.
The questions went on for over half an hour. At the end, Jilly was led through several stadium tunnels and out onto the baseball field, where two identical fenced-in areas were set up. They looked very much like the prisoner-of-war camps she’d seen in history class.
“Quarantine,” her escort had said. “Just until we’re sure you aren’t showing any signs of the illness. At that point, you’ll be given the vaccine.”
“And then I’ll be free to go?”
He looked surprised by her question. “Well, of course, that’s a choice you can make. But we do have relocation zones where we are consolidating survivors. You’d be much happier there.” When she didn’t say anything, he went on. “Anyway, you don’t have to make that decision now.” His friendly smile was back. “There are books and movies inside the barracks building. You’ll find something to occupy your time.”
But Jilly didn’t read any of the books. She didn’t watch any of the movies, either. None of her teammates did. Though they hadn’t discussed it, she sensed they all were feeling the same way she was. That something was wrong here.