Blackout (4 page)

SEVEN

“SLOW DOWN,” ALEC SAID, SITTING
up straighter in the passenger seat. His head was throbbing, and he’d been trying to sleep, but Laura drove too fast. They were asking to get pulled over.

The escape had gone perfectly to plan—better than he could have hoped. Only a few vehicles had tailed them as they flew out of the Glen Canyon Dam parking lot—Dan had shaken the canyon walls and must have damaged the bridge over the Colorado River—and the Bronco had quickly lost their pursuers in the maze of dirt roads to the west. They exchanged the stolen Bronco for a pickup, and then headed north through the Grand Staircase–Escalante National Monument, one of the most godforsaken stretches of wilderness in the country.

Laura drove—she’d had plenty of time that day to rest while the other two prepared for the attack, and both Alec and Dan were worn out and hurting. Dan could usually just sleep off his problems, but Alec’s always resulted in a migraine. Laura, so far as they’d seen, didn’t have any significant side effects. But her mutations were simple—strength, toughness, endurance. She was their tank, their human escape plan.

Human. Alec smiled tiredly. He was better than human now.

He turned on the radio again, the noise sending electric bolts of pain through his forehead.

“. . . expected to be a complete loss, though the damage could have been far worse. The brunt of the explosion took place fairly high up on the dam; had it been lower, the hole would be growing significantly faster and the evacuation process would be that much more difficult.”

“Dammit.” He sat quietly, watching the darkness out the windows.
The evacuation process.
He had thought that breaking the dam would be like popping an inflatable pool, sending all the water—and boaters—flushing down the Grand Canyon. But for hours they’d heard news anchors talk about the slow descent of the water, like bathwater slowly draining out of a tub.

He punched the dashboard. “Dammit. Dammit. Dammit!”

“It was a stretch,” Dan said quietly and defensively. “You knew that. I was working with concrete, not natural rock; it was over a hundred feet thick.”

Alec didn’t say anything, though of course it was all true. He’d known it going in.

“We killed the dam,” Laura said, her hands tight on the steering wheel. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

She never saw what the big deal was, Alec thought, but he kept his mouth shut. Not because he couldn’t have out-argued her, but because he had a headache and it wasn’t worth his time. Something caught his attention and he turned up the radio again.

“. . . want to emphasize that the suspects in this bombing are three young people, between seventeen and twenty-five years of age. They were last seen heading west on Highway 89 in a late model Bronco.”

The newsman gave their basic descriptions, which were vague enough to give Alec a little peace.

“So you want solid rock, huh?” he asked.

Dan, lying down in the backseat, grunted a yes. Dan always did better with natural stone than with synthetics.

Alec pulled out his smartphone and began scrolling through lists he’d made over the last several months.

“. . . We have breaking news from Michigan—the power grid in Detroit has been on and off all night, and there have been reports of damage to electrical substations throughout the city. We also have had unconfirmed reports of blackouts in the northeast, including many portions . . .”

“Attacking substations?” Alec said back to the radio. “Weak, guys. Weak.”

Laura laughed. “That’s why we’re the best.”

That’s why
I’m
the best
, he thought.

He continued flipping through the list on his smartphone. He had potential targets researched all over the area—good targets, too. Railroads, mines, even a handful of power plants. And being in the middle of nowhere in Utah hopefully meant there wouldn’t be too many guards.

“Hey,” Laura said, and pointed ahead into the darkness.

Alec peered forward. Bright floodlights illuminated the highway and made his headache even worse. Two vehicles were stopped across the road.

“You ready?” Laura asked.

He didn’t answer. Of course he was ready.

She slowed as they approached. The lead car was marked as the Wayne County Sheriff’s Department. A portly man with a thick mustache walked around the front of the cruiser.

“You know what to do,” Alec whispered, suddenly nervous. Local authorities were always a wild card—he wasn’t sure how paranoid they would be, or how strictly they’d follow guidelines of police protocol. The only thing Alec needed was time, but he wouldn’t get that if the officer had a “shoot first, ask questions later” approach.

Laura stopped the car and shifted into park. She unrolled her window.

The officer clicked on his flashlight and began walking toward them, his hand resting on his holstered gun.

Alec wondered how alert Dan was in the back. That’s where the stolen rifle was, under a blanket, and Dan was probably still too weak to use it. Alec had the pistol under his own seat.

He tried to push all of those thoughts out of his mind. He focused on the officer.

“Where ya headin’?” the officer asked, peering in the windows. He shone his light in Laura’s face, then Alec’s, then at Dan.

“Home,” Laura said, her voice scared. “We were camping down in Kodachrome Basin, but we heard about the dam on the radio. We figured it was time to go.”

“License?”

Laura fumbled for it, digging in her jeans pockets first, and then leaning over to the glove compartment. She wasn’t really looking for it, Alec knew. She was wasting time.

The memory he was trying to place was a simple one—that the officer had heard the suspects had been spotted at roadblock in St. George—four hours to the west. It was the easiest kind of memory to plant. Just a simple fact. The officer could build the rest of the story in his own mind.

Laura turned to the window and handed the truck’s fake insurance card. “Here’s this. Still looking for the license. Sorry—we left in a rush and I’m not sure where I put everything.”

“Take your time,” the officer said.

Dammit. A second man was walking over from the cars. Alec could only work on one mind at once.

Laura’s eyes met Alec’s as she turned back to dig through the glove compartment again.

“Where’s home?” the officer asked.

“Denver,” she answered.

“That’s a long way to drive.”

“We were just trying to get away from everything,” she said, finally grabbing the license and handing it to the officer. “We left right after the stadium came down last week. Figured we’d go somewhere safe.”

Alec switched his focus to the second man, but he had to be more careful now. The memory had to be perfect—it had to match the first officer’s exactly.

It was quiet for several seconds as the men looked at the driver’s license of Laura Hansen, the all-American blonde from Lakewood, Colorado. It wasn’t even a forgery—she’d lived there for ten years with her sleeper-agent parents, groomed and prepared for this as all of them were. All Colorado natives, all graduates of Colorado public high schools.

Keep talking, Laura.

But she was quiet, the officers several feet away, back from the window so they could watch everyone.

Dan sat up in the backseat and stretched. Probably trying to show he wasn’t a threat, that he wasn’t attempting to hide anything.

Alec was pouring the information into the second man’s mind. Three suspects, all matching the description of the terrorists, were spotted at a roadblock just outside of St. George. Three suspects. The call came in on the radio. The sighting only happened half an hour ago.

What were the men doing back there? It wasn’t the first time that Alec wished he could read thoughts as well as influence them.

Were their minds resisting the new memories? The whole reason for the roadblock was probably to watch for suspects, so the notion that the suspects had been seen half an hour ago would be hard to reconcile in their minds. Why were they still stopping cars? Who were they still looking for?

The officer reappeared at the car window, his flashlight blocking Alec’s view of him.

He handed Laura’s license and insurance back to her. “The bad news is that you’re going to run into a lot of traffic a couple miles up the road. Everyone’s doing the same thing you are, coming up outta Bullfrog. How far are you fixin’ to drive tonight?”

“Until we get tired,” Laura said.

The officer stepped back and patted the hood of the truck. “Well, be safe. Stay awake.”

Laura stuffed the license and insurance back into the glove compartment, thanked the officer, and then steered the car through the roadblock.

“That was a close one,” Dan said.

“Easy,” Alec answered. “Have I ever failed you?”

“I could have taken them both,” Laura said.

Alec ignored that. It was her answer for everything, and it would leave a huge trail for police to follow.

He pulled out his smartphone again. “Dan, you want natural stone?”

Dan yawned. “You find something?”

Alec opened a picture and handed the phone back to Dan. “How’s that?”

“Where is it?”

“Maybe an hour and a half away. Depends on the traffic.”

Laura turned to look at him, the grin on her face illuminated by the glow of the phone. “Two in one day?”

Alec looked in the rearview mirror. “Better get some sleep, Dan.”

EIGHT

“IF ANYONE WAS THERE, WE’D
have seen them by now,” Jack whispered.

Aubrey knew he was probably right, but he didn’t have as much to lose as she did. Jack wasn’t a freak. The army hadn’t shown up at the dance to take him.

As Aubrey and Jack waited in the tall, dry grass behind her trailer park, the disaster at the Gunderson Barn kept replaying in her mind. One thing was nagging at her.

A soldier had referred to Nate as a “possible Lambda.” What was a Lambda? She knew lambda was a letter in the Greek alphabet, she’d heard about it in physics—a lambda particle—and she’d seen lambda used in math before. But it wasn’t really what it meant that was nagging her; it was that it meant
something
. Whatever Nate was, he was a possible Lambda. The army knew about Lambdas. They knew about freaks.

Am I a Lambda?

The thought both scared and exhilarated her. Whatever made Aubrey invisible had a name. Someone was researching it. Maybe someone was looking for a cure.

Maybe. Or maybe they were looking for Lambdas to exterminate them.

“It’s been fifteen minutes,” Jack said, looking at his watch.

There were lights on in a few of the mobile homes, including hers, but nothing had moved. A car drove down the highway every minute or two, never slowing to glance at the run-down trailer park.

Cautiously, Aubrey stood and then squeezed through a break in the fence as she’d done a thousand times before. Jack hurried behind her and they slipped quietly down the dirt road to the second home on the right. It was filthy, more so than it used to be, now that Aubrey had a life other than helping her dad. She felt a twinge of embarrassment.

No, it’s just Jack. He’s been here almost every day since we were little.

The door was unlocked, as usual, and Aubrey stepped inside. Jack followed her.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Her father’s voice was slurred and loud, breaking through the small amount of calm they’d felt out in the darkness. He stood in the kitchen, fiddling with a can of something.

Aubrey stepped to her father and gave him a hug. “Just here to change clothes, Daddy.”

“What happened to your dress?” he nearly shouted. He had about ten days’ worth of unshaven beard, and his long gray hair was out of place as if he’d been sleeping.

“It’s been a long night,” she said.

Jack spoke up. “Do you mind if I turn on the news?”

“Go ahead,” her father replied, his hands and voice shaking. “It’s all crap.”

Jack sat on the well-worn couch and found the remote for the old TV.

Aubrey helped her dad as he fumbled with the can opener, cutting the top off a small can of generic chili.

“. . . those reports from a few minutes ago that the Glen Canyon Dam terrorists had been apprehended are now being called false. Officials are urging everyone—including those on blogs and social media—to not spread unconfirmed rumors.”

Aubrey paused in front of the TV. She saw for the first time the footage of the collapsed dam—the crumbled cement clinging to the canyon walls as a torrent of water spewed into the Grand Canyon. There were still boats on the lake, kicking up a stream of churning white foam as they fought the current to reach the marina. It had still been light when these videos were taken; she wondered how much worse it was now.

“I’m going to change,” she mumbled, and headed to her room.

She closed the door behind her and leaned against the wall, taking in a deep breath.

Her room was small—a tiny space with thin walls and a linoleum floor—but she felt safe for the first time that night. It was the one place in the entire town where she didn’t have to put on a show, where she didn’t have to be someone else.

Sometimes, in her room, she didn’t even feel like her dad’s caretaker. In her room—she was free.

She took off the heavy sheepskin coat and inspected her dress in front of the mirror on her closet door. It was a complete loss. Aside from the mud stains, which were everywhere, the satin was snagged and scratched from every time she’d pushed through bushes or waded through alfalfa. Even if she could get it cleaned, it would look terrible. She slipped it off and tossed it in a pile in the corner.

First dance, over.

She wondered where she was going, what clothes she should wear. Her wardrobe was extensive now—all stolen from the mall in the city—but most of what Nicole had talked Aubrey into getting was too delicate for the uncertainty that lay ahead. The expensive jeans, the loose, thin tops, the cute sandals. Aubrey didn’t know where she was going, but she knew she’d be on her own, and that the few times she’d be around people she’d be invisible.

She picked a pair of jeans that, while still expensive, seemed durable, like they could handle the outdoors. She layered her tops—a T-shirt, a long-sleeve button-up plaid, and a sweater. She didn’t have nice hiking boots, so she pulled on a recently acquired pair of cross trainers.

She looked at herself in the mirror. She wasn’t the old worn-out Aubrey she used to be, but she wasn’t the stylish popular girl Nicole had helped her become, either. She was half and half. She wasn’t anyone.

Aubrey plopped down on the bed and put her head in her hands. What was she going to do? She could take her .22 with her, but she couldn’t live off the land, not forever. And going into the city wouldn’t help: sure, she’d have access to food and clothes that she could steal on a whim, but she’d be homeless. She couldn’t stay invisible forever.

She wanted to cry, but stopped herself. It wouldn’t help anything, and she had cried enough that night.

Jack was on the edge of his seat, staring at the TV when Aubrey came back out of her room. He didn’t look up.

“What’s the news?” she asked, sitting on the arm of the couch.

“Roundups,” he said. “It’s not just here.”

Aubrey’s stomach turned, and she slid down onto the seat next to him.

“Apparently it started a couple days ago,” he said, giving her a quick glance. “They’ve been keeping it quiet. It’s mostly rumors at this point, but it’s happening all over the place. The official word is that it’s for protection, but others say it’s for some kind of testing. The National Guard has been going door to door.”

“Testing,” she repeated. Her chest felt hollow, as if she were collapsing in on herself.

“Maybe the terrorists spread poison or something,” Jack said.

Aubrey nodded, though she knew he was wrong. She didn’t know what her invisibility had to do with terrorists, but she knew—she just knew—they were after her.

Jack met her gaze. “We should turn ourselves in.”

She was suddenly panicked. “What? No.”

“What if we’ve been poisoned? If they’re testing for something, what if we have it?”

“We don’t,” she said, standing up. She nervously ran a hand through her hair. Everything was falling apart.

“Here, look.” Jack pointed to the TV. “This is up by Salt Lake.”

It was a helicopter view of a dark road. Below them was a long convoy of vehicles. The news anchors were speculating about the destination of the convoy, listing half a dozen military installations in Utah and Idaho. They weren’t explaining anything about who was in the buses or why.

“Why would they be testing people somewhere else?” Aubrey asked, trying to breathe calmly. “Why not just do it here, in the high school gym or something?”

“Maybe we’re contagious?”

“No,” she said.

“I really think we need to turn ourselves in,” he said. “What if we’re making your dad sick?”

“No,” Aubrey repeated, and suddenly realized that her dad was gone. “Where did he go?”

Jack’s eyes didn’t leave the screen. “He said he was going outside for a smoke.”

“Great.” Her voice was quiet and angry.

“Listen,” Jack said, muting the TV and turning to face her. His voice was even, but nervous. “I know that tonight was crazy. I know you and Nate were close.”

“We weren’t close,” she snapped, pacing into the kitchen.

“Okay,” he said. “Whatever. This sucks, but the important thing is that we don’t get into more trouble.”

“You don’t understand,” she said, moving her hands like she couldn’t figure out where to put them—from her hips to her face to her hair.

“What is going on?”

She was on the other side of the kitchen counter from him, and grabbed onto the edge for support. She didn’t want to tell him. She couldn’t.

She had to.

“Turn off the TV for a second,” she said.

Jack fumbled with the remote and then clicked it off. “What’s going on?” he repeated.

She was hyperventilating. She and Nicole had sworn that neither of them would tell another soul. But now Nicole was on a bus heading who-knows-where.

Aubrey stepped out from behind the counter, her knees feeling weak.

“Look at me.”

“What?”

“Just watch.” And then she disappeared. She saw the look on his face that she’d seen on so many others as she’d practiced. In their minds, she hadn’t just blinked out of sight, but she wasn’t there anymore. Confusion spread across his face.

“Where did you go?” he asked.

She reappeared, and his eyes slowly focused back on her.

She spoke before he could. “Tell me what you saw.”

He was plainly puzzled. “I’m not sure. Did you go back behind the counter?”

“Nope,” she said. “Right here the whole time.”

“But . . .” he started.

“Jack,” she said, taking an anxious step toward him. “This is why I can’t turn myself in. I’m like Nate.”

He just stared, more confused than scared, which Aubrey considered a small victory. “You’re not like Nate,” he finally said.

“I don’t know what Nate was,” she said. “But he was different. And I’m different, too. I think they’re testing to find us.”

Now Jack stood up. “What are you?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m Aubrey, same as I’ve always been.”

Jack shook his head. “The Aubrey I knew couldn’t do . . . what did you do again?”

“I can disappear,” she said, her voice shaking. “I can’t explain it, so don’t ask me to.”

“It wasn’t like you disappeared,” he said.

“I know. Here, watch again.”

A second time she vanished, and once again Jack stared, flustered. He reached an arm out, swiping through the air. She grabbed his hand and reappeared.

He flinched as she came back, and pulled his hand away. “What are you doing?”

She didn’t want him to be like this. She wanted him to be impressed, amazed. That’s how Nicole had been. She’d immediately seen how valuable Aubrey could be.

“How do you do . . . that?” he asked.

“I just do,” she said. “Now do you see why I can’t turn myself in? This has to be what they’re testing for.”

Jack nodded blankly.

She couldn’t stand the strange way he was watching her. He was her oldest friend and he was looking at her like she was someone—something—foreign and strange. Like she was a freak.

He was right.

Her fingers clutched the edge of the counter.

After a long pause, Jack spoke. “The Pattens’ cabin.”

“What?”

“Eric Patten’s cabin. His family left town to go be with his grandma in Montana. We could go to their cabin—no one will be there.”

She tilted her head slightly toward him. “What do you mean ‘we’? You should turn yourself in.”

“Yeah, right.”

Aubrey turned around again. He looked tired, but he was standing firm, rubbing the back of his neck while he thought.

“If they’re testing for . . . whatever it is you can do, then that means they aren’t searching for me. If I get caught then I’ll just say I was afraid and running.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not going to leave you.”

Suddenly she was less scared of him than for him. Nate had been killed. What would happen if they found out Jack was helping her? “I can take care of myself. You’re not the only one who knows how to fish and hunt.”

His head was down, staring at the cluttered mess as he rubbed his neck.

“I’ve been to the Pattens’ cabin,” Aubrey continued. “I can find it. They have food storage there.” She didn’t add that she could steal anything else she needed from the grocery store.

Jack still gazed at the floor, not responding.

“I’m going to pack,” she said, and took a step toward her bedroom.

“I thought your dad stopped smoking.”

“Huh? Well, he did for a while.” She hadn’t seen him smoke in a long time. The little spare money he had usually went for cheap beer.

Jack bent over and picked up a paper from the floor. It was wrinkled, with torn corners where it had been taped to something. He handed it to her.

The font was bold and simple, with an official seal top and center.

WE NEED YOUR HELP

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention has identified a highly contagious virus in your area. By order of the President of the United States and the Federal Emergency Management Agency, all persons between the ages of 13 and 20 are to be tested and quarantined for the protection of both themselves and others.

We appreciate your cooperation with this action. Because of the major threat this poses to public health and national security, it is of utmost importance that all citizens comply. Financial compensation will be granted for any help rendered in fulfillment of this request.

Aubrey’s hands began to shake before she got to the bottom of the letter. Finally, she looked up at Jack. “Financial compensation?”

“There’s a bounty on you—on us both. That’s why we kept seeing those roadblocks. Lance and Ian—they were trying to get reward money.”

She ran to the front door. For the first time in her life she hoped her dad was sitting on the front porch smoking. She twisted the knob, then peered outside.

Darkness. No one was there.

Not even her dad.

A blazing light filled her eyes. For an instant she felt Jack’s hand on her arm, pulling her back, but she disappeared, slipping out of his grip. She stumbled through the trailer, blindly forcing herself to the back door. Before she got there a foot kicked it in.