Apocalypse Dawn (56 page)

“I know things must be confusing for you right now,” Jenny said.

“Hey,” Joey said hotly, “contrary to popular opinion, I’m not exactly a little kid.” The anger and resentment got away from him before he could contain it. “So you can save the baby talk.”

Jenny took a step back and wrapped her arms around herself. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Me?” Joey couldn’t believe it. “It’s not me, jenny.” He waved toward the house. “My house is filled with people I don’t even know. I can’t even talk to my mom without somebody hearing me.”

Jenny’s eyes narrowed. “Those are kids that your mom is counseling. All of them are missing their parents, brothers, or sisters. None of them had anywhere to turn.”

“So they have to show up at my house?”

-rhat’s kind of selfish, don’t you think?”

“Selfish?”

“Yeah. I think them showing up here says a lot for the kind of person your mom is.”

“They’re in my house!”

Glancing over her shoulder, jenny said, “Why don’t you try to keep your voice down.”

“Because I don’t want to,” Joey said, exasperated. “This is stupid! My little brother disappeared last night! I thought my mom was going to totally freak out! ” He let out a pent-up breath because his lungs were suddenly too full to breathe. “I get up this morning, she’s got a houseful of strangers. And she’s baking cookies like everything is all right. Everything is not all right!”

“Your mom is just trying to help those kids.” Jenny eyed him deliberately.

“She’s my mom. Not theirs.’

“I don’t think you realize what has happened here, Joey. These disappearances, they happened all around the world. A lot of people are scared. A lot more than just those kids in your house.”

“That’s not my problem.”

“It’s a good thing we’re not all as narrow-minded as you are.”

“Good for who?”

“Those kids in there need help, Joey.”

Unable to stand still any longer, Joey stepped off the porch. He gazed at the flower beds, remembering all the times he’d chased baseballs into them when he and Goose had played catch back there. The tire swing that Chris loved so much still hung from the tree above the covered sandbox he had helped Goose build three summers ago.

This was his house. His yard. And he had been invaded.

“Russia is threatening war,” Jenny said. “They think the United States is somehow responsible for all the disappearances. It’s all over the news.” She paused. “Are you listening to me?”

Joey wheeled on her from halfway out into the backyard. “What are you still doing here, jenny?”

“I’m helping your mom.”

“Last night you seemed like you were in a hurry to get home.”

Jenny’s voice turned cold and measured. “Last night,” she stated, “I offered to come here and help you because your dad is over in Turkey, probably fighting for his life, and to be with you when you picked up your little brother. The only time I was ever in a hurry to get away from you was when I found out you’d been lying to me.”

Tears burned at the backs of Joey’s eyes but he refused to shed them. “Why are you here now, Jenny?”

“Because your mom could use some help. Because she asked me if I would help her if I didn’t have anything better to do.”

“And you don’t?”

Jenny was quiet for a moment. Her lower lip quivered for just an instant, then stilled. Her gaze turned cold and distant. “No, Joey, I don’t have anything better to do. I live with my dad. He’s an alcoholic. My mom couldn’t take it anymore, so she ran away. At least, that’s the excuse she used for leaving us when I was fifteen. I’ve put myself through school since then, got my dad up and going so it took him longer to finally get fired from jobs that he stopped showing up late to.” She took a breath. “I started to work at McDonald’s when I was sixteen because somebody needed to pay the rent in those crummy apartments where we lived. I work at Kettle 0’ Fish to pay the rent in the crummy apartment where we live now. We’ve lived in that apartment for over two years. That’s the longest I’ve ever lived in any one place.”

Joey stared at her, not knowing what to say.

“I have to hide my money around the house because my dad will spend it on alcohol and beer if he finds it. These days, since I’ve been able to pay the bills, my dad works less and less. I don’t go to college because it would cost too much. I change jobs a lot because sooner or later my dad will find out where I work and come in there drunk and cause a scene.”

“Jenny, I-“

“Shut up, Joey!” Her voice was fierce. “I don’t want to hear ‘I’m sorry.’ I get that enough from my dad. ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t pay the bills or put food on the table or give me back any of my self-respect.” She paused.

Joey let the silence stretch between them, not knowing what to say. He got the distinct feeling that whatever he said would only cause her to take his head off.

“Do you want to know why I don’t date?” Jenny asked in a strained voice.

Joey didn’t answer. Too much was coming at him at one time, and he didn’t know how to deal with it.

“Because when I dated in the past,” Jenny said, “I heard my dad say things to me I never thought he would say. Awful things, Joey. He accused me of stuff I didn’t do. Stuff I don’t do. He talks to me the way he used to talk to my mom. Only I’m not her; I can’t yell back at him the way she did. And even if I did, things would just be worse. I watched each of them put the other in the emergency room when I was little. More than once.”

“I didn’t know,” Joey whispered.

“Of course you didn’t know,” Jenny snapped. “I don’t let anybody know. I don’t want anybody to know. You look at me and all you see is a body. You don’t even know me, but all of a sudden you’re convinced you really like me, or maybe you’re even falling in love with me.” She let out a ragged breath. “But you don’t know me. You don’t even try to get to know me. You just like the way I look.”

Embarrassment burned Joey’s face.

“Guys come around and hit on me,” Jenny said. “They think that I need them. I don’t need them. I’m making it on my own. Maybe it’s not anybody’s dream world, but it’s what I’ve got to live with.”

Joey waited for a moment, wanting to make sure she was done. He knew he should just wait her out, wait until she went back into the house. Instead, he asked, “Why don’t you leave?”

“Leave my dad?”

“Yeah.”

“Because he’s my dad,” Jenny answered. “And because everyone else has left him. My mom. His parents and brothers and sister. His friends. Oh, he still has drinking buddies, but they only come around when he’s got money and he’s buying.” She paused. “Kind of the same way guys come around me because they like what they see and not because of who I am.”

“Nobody should have to live like that.” Joey thought he was being supportive, but judging from the look of reproach on jenny’s face, she hadn’t taken it that way.

“Grow up, Joey,” she said. “It’s not a perfect world. Sometimes you just have to take what life hands you. If I left my dad, he would die or end up in jail. I hate living with him, but I don’t want that to happen.” A single tear tracked down her cheek. “He’s my father, Joey, and I’m not going to leave him. He’s been left by too many people.”

Joey shoved his hands into his pockets. His anger had wilted, but the pain inside him still resonated, stronger now because he could feel the pain inside jenny.

“And you’re not the only one with a fake ID, Joey,” she said. “I’m not twenty-three. I’m nineteen. So if I can handle this, I know you can.” She nodded at the house. “I think your mom is a fantastic lady, but she has her hands full with those kids in there. She could use some help.” She looked at him expectantly.

Joey stared back at her. “You lied to me. You told me you were twenty-three.”

“Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?”

“No, it isn’t. If you hadn’t lied to me, I would have never lied to you. And you don’t know everything there is about living here.”

“And what don’t I know?”

Joey thought about the feelings he’d been having for months, about how Chris had seemed to consume the attentions of his mom and Goose, about how he had been relegated to the role of baby-sitter. The way his mom took in the kids who showed up at his house was a perfect case in point.

And now Jenny was using her own problems to try to make his seem insignificant. That was wrong. He was entitled to his feelings, and there was no denying how things had been around his house. Everybody had an excuse for why things had been that way. But in the end, that’s all they were: excuses.

Disgusted, frustrated, and hurting, missing Chris, Joey turned away and threw an open hand back at her. “Forget about it, Jenny. It’s not worth talking about.” He walked away, heading toward the base, not knowing what he was going to do but knowing he couldn’t stay there with all the pain and strangers inside his house.

He felt her eyes on his back for a long time, but when he turned around a couple blocks away, she wasn’t there. He kept walking, feeling more lost and alone than he ever had.

United States 75th Rangers 3rd Battalion

Field Command Post

The world hung suspended from a single strand as thin as a gossamer spider web above the gleaming jaws of death.

Cal Remington sat in his ready room in the command post and reflected on that thought. The prose was too purple to put in a field report, but the summation would stand out in a biography or an episode of The History Channel.

The Ranger captain had no doubt that history was being made and that he would probably figure large in that history. A third of the world’s population had disappeared with no apparent catalyst-except for a sudden border skirmish that had flared up in the Middle East. The Middle East had been a hotbed of terrorism and world threat for decades-centuries even. But the fighting had never been anything like this. Some weapon of unimaginable power had been unleashed, and Remington had been at ground zero.

Rosenzweig’s formula had changed the balance of power within the Middle East. If there was any finger-pointing later, Rosenzweig would surely bear the brunt of the blame. Perhaps the Israeli scientist had come up with the miracle growth serum, but someone elsesurely the Russians or the Chinese-had come up with the weapon that had eradicated all the missing people.

But why give it to the Syrians to use?

That was the question.

Sitting behind the desk, Remington rested his elbows on the chair arms and rested his hands together, fingertip pressed to fingertip. He felt tired. He was coming up on almost forty-eight hours without sleep. But he’d never needed that much sleep, and he’d always been able to get from his body what he demanded of it. He wouldn’t accept any less now.

He scanned the notebook computer in front of him. The LCD screen filled the small lightless room with soft blue illumination that grayed out all the color of his BDUs and the blue steel of his Colt.45 lying in the modular holster on the metal desk. An earbud connected him to the computer so that he could listen to the files he wanted to without being overheard.

Now that the Crays were up and running at peak performance, Remington had the files archived off-site where he had access to them for reviewing through the notebook computer. He scanned the FOX and CNN feeds coming through, as well as the OneWorld NewsNet footage.

FOX and CNN covered most of the domestic scene in the United States, including the disaster areas that had been declared in all the major cities. Chicago had been hit hard, and Los Angeles had experienced looting, fires, and riots the likes of which even that city had never seen. D.C., New York, Atlanta all had their own share of troubles. The list went on.

The footage rolled, showing wrecked cars, burning buildings, downed planes shattered across airfields and cities. One catastrophe followed another. Martial law had been declared in several metropolitan areas, but the understaffing of the police, fire, and National Guard units that had experienced even larger percentages of disappearances than the population at large had made it almost impossible to enforce.

A knock sounded at the door.

“Come,” Remington said.

“Sir,” Corporal Waller, one of the computer techs, said, “there’s something on OneWorld NewsNet that you might want to see.”

“What is it, Corporal?” Remington let the irritation he felt at being interrupted sound in his voice.

Waller hesitated.

“You’re burning daylight, mister,” Remington warned.

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. It’s just kind of hard to explain. The OneWorld reporter, she’s with the 75th, Captain.”

That wasn’t news. The presence of the news teams in the area, with the acknowledgement that they couldn’t fault the military in any way, had been one of the concessions Remington had granted to Nicolae Carpathia’s liaison. Evidently Carpathia was planning to address the United Nations when he made an upcoming trip to the United States. The new Romanian president wanted to use some of the footage of the military engagement along the TurkishSyrian border to make whatever case he was going to present.

“I knew those people were in the area,” Remington said. “As you might recall, I authorized their presence.”