Mom came over and gave Dad a kiss good-bye.
“You should be able to go back in the house now,” Dad told her. “But listen. You might want to run to the store before things get too crazy. See if you can buy some bottled water and non-perishables. Who knows how long it’ll be before the power comes back on.”
Mom nodded and reached for me. I hugged her tight, then looked over at my smooshed car under the giant tree. It didn’t leave a ton of room for them to get their cars out of the garage. Dad and Rylen pulled the garage door open by hand.
“Think he can make it out?” I asked Mom.
Mom nodded gravely. “He’ll just have to drive through the yard.” The thought saddened me since my parents worked hard to keep the yard looking nice, a constant battle with water restrictions in the area.
I kissed Abuela and Grandpa.
A few minutes later, Dad pulled his oversized utility vehicle out of the garage, narrowly missing the tree, and making tire tracks in the lawn. Rylen jumped in the back and I took the front. Dad peeled off down the road. We were silent, but their faces were as tense as I felt. Dad flipped to the AM station.
More bombings were announced. So many cities. I covered my mouth in horror as the announcer rattled them off: “Dallas, Seattle, San Francisco, St. Louis . . .” He went on and on. “But the blast in Washington D.C. is feared to be worse than the others. Specialists are testing the area for nuclear activity. At this time, I can neither confirm nor deny that there are no survivors from the Global Summit that took place . . .”
“They’re all dead,” Dad murmured. “Every last one of our leaders.”
Dear God . . . we were a nation without a leader. Except—
“Senator Navis!” I said. “He wasn’t there!”
Dad’s face lit up. “That’s right. All be damned, our own senator.”
“If he wasn’t near Vegas,” Rylen said from the back seat. I peered over my shoulder to see him lounged, arms crossed, legs splayed, no seatbelt.
“Buckle up, Ry,” I told him.
His eyebrows came together like he hadn’t heard me right—like I was crazy for worrying about his safety inside the car with everything going on in the world.
“Please,” I said none-too-gently.
Rylen must have seen something in my eyes, the knowledge I held from things I could never unsee with my job, because he nodded and grabbed the seatbelt, clicking it securely and giving me a softer look. So handsome. I swallowed hard and turned to face forward, pressing my head back hard against the headrest. I could not think things like that anymore. I had to stop.
When we got close to the hospital, I motioned for Dad to go around back where the ambulances loaded. My partner, Julian, saw us pulling up and jogged over to my window, leaning in. He gave Dad a nod then looked at me.
“Glad you’re here, Tate. Since most phone lines are down, we can’t really make calls. A lot of minor injuries are coming in from the quake, but they’ve got a ton of hands on deck here. They’re looking for medics to head out, closer to Vegas to help with the relief there. Wanna come?”
“Yeah, absolutely.”
He nodded and grinned, but put up a hand when I started to get out. “Do you have your car? The ambulances are pretty full.”
“We can take her,” Dad said. “We’re headed that way.”
Julian gave us a thumbs-up and patted my window before jogging away. We followed the procession of three ambulances, listening to the radio as we drove. The problem with the news was that so much was hearsay—reporters were getting their news from other stations and passing it along. They’d even had to correct themselves about cities they said were bombed that actually weren’t.
Dad yelled and slammed the breaks, swerving. “Damn lunatics.” He glared over his shoulder at the car that was headed down the center of the road, zooming in and out around other vehicles. I cringed, watching until it was out of sight.
“Some people are always ready to take advantage of bad circumstances,” Dad muttered. “No concern for others, just because they can.”
I stayed quiet as he grumbled. I really hoped he’d taken his blood pressure meds that morning.
As we got closer to Vegas, the traffic became congested until we came to a stop. Some cars did three-point turns and went back the other way. The ambulances in front of us kicked on their flashing lights and sirens and took to the shoulder with Dad hot on their tail. We got to the outskirts of Vegas, and as the ambulances came to a stop, Dad pulled around the side of one, and I gasped at the sight before us.
Parts of the Vegas skyline that weren’t hindered by mountains were filled with black, billowing clouds of smoke.
“Holy . . .” Rylen leaned forward and breathed out.
I ripped off my seatbelt and jumped from the car, racing to the ambulance in front of us.
“Why are we stopping?” I asked Julian. “We have to get down there!”
Julian shook his head. “They’re worried it was nuclear. We can’t get any closer. They’re putting up barriers. If people can make their way up here to us, we can treat them.” I looked at the roadblock. A semi-circle of cop cars and ambulances stood facing the destroyed city. I covered my mouth with a shaking hand. An unmarked white van was opened, and four people in safety suits stood pouring over their electronics. I assumed they were searching for nuclear particles. I couldn’t stop shaking as I looked out at the city again. Had the university been hit? Was Remy okay?
I reached for my cell phone in my back pocket, wanting to check the news, and then cursed under my breath at the lack of signal. It was beyond bizarre to be cut off. A rumbling came from behind me, and I turned to see a convoy of military vehicles kicking up clouds of dust. They stretched out across the desert landscape, barreling over brush, not bothering to use the road.
“Air Force from Nellis,” Rylen shouted over the noise. I raised an arm to block my face from a dirt cloud as the vehicles came skidding to stops.
Rylen jogged over to the driver of the nearest Humvee, a young man in light green Army fatigues.
“Tech Sergeant Fite,” Rylen said, introducing himself. “On leave this week, but soon-to-be stationed at Nellis. What can I do?”
The other man shook Rylen’s hand and said, “Not really sure what the hell’s going on, to be honest.” The man took off his camo hat and ran a hand over his short hair before putting it back on. “A lot of our comm is out. We’re here to secure the area. You’re welcome to fall in.”
Rylen nodded and the guy jogged off. He and I both turned to see American Red Cross vans and more military vehicles arriving. I felt sick to my stomach with helplessness. As Rylen ran off to talk to more people, I paced the invisible line we weren’t supposed to cross. I stared out, down the road to the city, for what felt like forever. A frenzy of activity to the side caught my attention as a dark sedan pulled up, flanked by police vehicles.
Shock pummeled me as Senator Bradford Navis jumped out and was quickly surrounded by body guards. A wave of whispers rushed through the personnel on scene. The senator walked forward until the CDC people made him stop. He stared out at the destruction with a tight, pained look on his face that matched how I felt inside. He wore khaki pants and a cream button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His dark hair still managed to look good in its disheveled state, but there were dark crescents under his eyes.
Behind him, a news crew leapt from a white van and pounced, filming every detail of the senator’s reaction to the devastation. I watched in fascination as he spoke to the CDC official, then Army and Air Force officers. The media was pushed back for those moments, but allowed to move closer again once they finished discussing. I wished I could hear what they were saying. When he turned to address the cameras, I weaved my way through the crowd to get close enough to hear.
“Like all of you, I’m . . . in shock. Heart-broken.” His voice cracked and he paused, looking down to compose himself before lifting his face to the camera again. “I am working as closely as I can with remaining government officials, though our means of communication are sparse. It’s imperative that we reestablish new leadership, raising up those who are next-in-command until we can have official elections. I will do my best to oversee the process personally, but I ask for your patience and cooperation during this process.
“I do not want to cause widespread panic, but I need everyone to be cautiously aware . . .” He paused and his face grew so serious that a chill ratcheted up my spine. “Threat to remaining survivors is imminent. Whoever is responsible for these attacks is still out there, and is likely not finished. We have reports of possible water contamination throughout the country, food contamination, biological warfare. Please listen to your local news station, and if your town is at risk, follow the guidelines that will be outlined for you.
“We are forming a nationwide organization called the Disaster Relief Initiative, the DRI, from local government officials. These persons will have the authority of police to arrest and obtain suspicious and uncooperative persons of interest. Their first job is to take a census of all towns in order to determine our remaining population and our greatest needs. If your town is under any biological threats, you will be notified and given instructions within the next week during the census taking.”
I watched, rapt. Just seeing him there, confident and composed, gave me such hope.
“Please, I cannot stress this enough . . . in order to weed out those who are responsible, we must require complete compliance from citizens. No looting. Anyone found taking advantage of our country’s predicament in a negative way will answer to the law. We are under high alert and there will be zero tolerance as we move forward.
“I understand most of the country is without cellular and internet service, unable to contact loved ones. This issue is being worked on around-the-clock as top priority. It’s pivotal that we cling to our loved ones in this trying time.” His jaw set, and I knew he was thinking about the wife he’d just lost. I covered my mouth, overcome, and watched as he swallowed hard. “We must remain positive. We must cling to hope and goodness. I urge you to stay strong as we fight this unknown enemy. Let us show them that this great country will rise from the ashes, and rebuild even stronger. In every tragedy there are unsung heroes. I urge you all to be those heroes.”
He turned to face Las Vegas again. The media was given a few more seconds to tape him from behind, and then they were ushered away.
“Damn,” Rylen whispered from behind me. His words brushed the side of my face, and I jumped at his nearness, at the heat he garnered in me so easily. “You okay?”
I nodded. “I’m just . . .” I nodded toward the senator.
“I don’t envy him right now,” Ry muttered. “He’s the only elected leader left, so it all falls on him, you know?”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “We’re lucky to have him.”
Around us, the crowd surged toward the senator, but his guards ushered him quickly into the sedan and they sped away. I turned toward the city with growing dread.
“They need us,” I said.
“We can’t take the chance of going in there and getting radiation poisoning.” Rylen’s voice was filled with warning, as if he knew my thoughts to ignore all warning and just go.
“Remy’s in there,” I whispered.
He put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “I know.”
In that moment, a speck of dark moved in the distance and I stiffened. It was a car . . . no, a big SUV, and it was speeding toward us. I pointed and shouted, “Look!” Others began to murmur until our entire mammoth group stood watching, waiting. As the vehicle got closer, it became apparent it had a flat tire and was listing to the side, bumping and swerving. My heart lurched as sparks flew from the hubcap and the vehicle went off the road, hitting a rock and spinning to a stop about a hundred yards away.
“Wait for them to come to us!” one of the CDC yelled. “That’s in the danger zone.” I held my breath to see if anyone would get out, but none of the doors opened. My anxiousness reached a peak and I took off at a sprint.
“Amber, no!” Rylen shouted. When I didn’t stop, I heard him mutter, “
Shit
,” and then his footfalls were right behind me. We reached the SUV together and I pulled three times before I was able to wrench the front door open. A man caked in bloodied dirt with a bobbling head stared at me blearily.
“Sir, can you walk?” I asked. “We have to get you to the ambulances up there.” I pointed, but his eyes didn’t move. I lifted his arm, pushed my shoulder under his pit, and shoved my arm around his waist, then I heaved him toward me. He nearly fell on me, but managed to stay standing. “That’s it,” I said. “Let’s go.” But he was so heavy.
“Here.” Rylen came up on his other side and took him, then inclined his head at the SUV. Get one of the others.”
I helped a woman out of the back and looked at the other four people in the car, all adults in torn business attire. “If you can walk, I need you to get out and follow me. Now.” I hated to be stern with them, but they were clearly all in shock. “Come on. Up! Let’s go!”
We all made it up the road, dragging, slowly, but the moment we passed the safe line the medics converged, taking over in an orderly, efficient fashion that calmed me.
The CDC took Rylen and I to one of their vans and waved wands over us, asking a myriad of questions.
“Do you feel nauseated? Headache?” No, no.
“They’re clear,” one of them said.
“So, was it definitely a nuclear bomb?” I asked them.
“That is classified, ma’am,” the man said in an all-important voice that made me want to roll my eyes. What the hell was the point of classifying that? Mass panic was already a given.
Rylen pulled something out of his back pocket and flashed it at the woman next to him. She raised her eyes at the man by me. “TS clearance, Air Force.” Of course Ry would have Top Secret clearance.
The man nodded stiffly. “All right. No. No radioactivity that we’ve been able to detect.”
My eyes bulged as I jumped to my feet in a fury. “Then why aren’t we down there?”
“We still have two final tests we’re waiting on.”