Last Light Falling (17 page)

I can’t tell where the noise is coming from, and it’s beginning to make me nauseous. I look over to the school and see one of the teachers covering his ears while his nose spontaneously bleeds like a fountain.

“Run!” I shout to Gabe, grabbing his arm as we dash for shelter toward the den. My heart beats faster and faster, and my eardrums pop as we sprint across the street. It’s not until we reach the other side that I’m suddenly stopped by an excruciating wailing of screams behind us.

When I turn around to the awful shrieking in the distance, I see hundreds of students vomiting and lying on the ground, shaking uncontrollably. Some have blood running from their noses, while others just lie there, lifeless. People on the streets are dropping to their knees, holding their stomachs and ears in pain. I nearly lose it when I see a man’s chest explode and watch his insides pour out onto the ground.

We run as fast as we can and make it inside the gas station when an abrupt explosion ripples through the air, shaking the integrity of the structure, and knocking us down. Through the window we see a plume of black smoke, and fiery-red ash cascades to the ground. Judging by the location of the smoke, the explosion came from the north side of the school. It was most likely the out-of-control jet we saw earlier.

We watch through the window as chaos ensues while helpless people lie unconscious. “I can’t take this, Gabe. We need to help these people. Come on!” Adrenaline pumps through my veins. But before I take a step toward the window, the door on the floor to the tunnel unexpectedly swings open and Father Joseph’s head pops up.

“Children, come now. Hurry, it’s not safe out here,” he says.

“We need to help these people,” I say desperately.

“We can’t help them, it’s too late. Come on now. I can’t risk you two getting killed.”

Walking through the tunnel gives me a tremendous headache, and my ear passages have suddenly closed. I can’t tell if it’s from being closed in this semi-pressurized passage, or from that low, excruciating roar that sent everyone to the ground, puking up their insides. I ask Father Joseph if he saw people lying on the ground or if he heard any low humming noise, but he’s too busy praying to answer me. By the time we get to the doors, my ear canals finally open up and my nausea retreats. Henry is sitting at the table, intently glued to a laptop screen.

“You will be safe in here,” Father Joseph says.

“What’s going on?” says Gabe.

“We don’t know yet, but downtown is flooded with federal officers, and riots broke out when Henry and I left. We had to walk on foot because the entire interior of the city is blocked off, and we wanted to avoid being detained. We fled to the old church, trying to wait out the chaos.”

“So, how did you get here?” Gabe asks.

“Henry and I found another metal door like the one to the den in the basement of the church. Through that door were a slew of underground tunnels, one of which led us to what looked like an underground cathedral about hundred yards from here to there,” says Father Joseph, pointing to the back wall. He moves over to a small crevice in the concrete and pushes a button. The wall moves back and reveals the tunnel they came through.

I walk over to the opening and peer in, but all I can think about are the tragic events that are taking place outside the school—seeing my own classmates lying lifeless on the ground. I place my hand on the cold
concrete wall, stroking my raven hair while I muse over my relationship with Jacob. And it dawns on me.

I turn to face Gabe. “Jacob and Juliana, did you see them before we left?” I ask, panicking.

Gabe’s eyes grow big, then his face gradually turns red with anger. He curls his fist and pounds it into the table. “Dammit, we shouldn’t have left them!” he shouts.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” says Father Joseph.

I resent the fact that we left them, but there’s nothing I can do to change it now. “We’ll find them. Don’t worry, they’re smart enough to take shelter,” I say, trying to reassure Gabe, but mostly trying to reassure myself.

“We need to get home to Myra; I’m sure she is worried sick right now,” I say to Father Joseph.

“In time, Arena. We need to make sure it’s safe before going back out there,” he says.

Henry pounds the table. “What is going on here?” He glares at the laptop.

“What is it?” asks Gabe.

Henry looks confused. “Our network connection is completely gone.”

“It’s probably from the explosion earlier, or maybe there was damage to the cables during all the chaos,” says Father Joseph.

“You don’t understand. This is not a LAN line or a wireless access point connection. This is a government signal that is utilized by the feds, which is directly uplinked to an orbiting military satellite. These signals never go down unless the satellite has been decommissioned— or worse, destroyed,” says Henry with his hands on his head.

It has been about an hour since the explosion now, and I can’t stop pacing back and forth, wondering about the status of Jacob and Juliana, what awaits us aboveground, and if my family is still waiting for us safely in the house. “Okay, we’ve waited long enough. We need to move now,” I hastily say.

Father Joseph walks over to one of the tables and grabs a flashlight. “As much as I don’t want to separate the two of you—”

“Then don’t!” I interrupt.

“We really need one of you here in case one of us gets caught. Remember, we have to trek on foot now,” says Father Joseph.

Gabe runs over to one of the boxes under the table and digs around until he pulls out something small and shiny. “Here! We can use these.”

“What are those?” I ask.

“These are tracking devices that link to each other with this coded cell satellite. This device has its own coded frequency for these tracking devices only, so no Internet connection is needed. They have about a twenty-mile radius, but we will still need to attach it to something outside,” explains Gabe.

“Your house is about two miles from here. We may be able to make most of the trip through some of these tunnels,” says Father Joseph.

“The question is, who goes and who stays?” I ask.

Henry stands up and says, “I recommend Gabriel to go with Father Joseph and Arena to stay here with me. Arena and I have some unfinished training that is necessary.”

I’m hesitant to agree to anything at this point, but because Gabe is more intuitive than me, he will more likely avoid any danger he foresees, therefore, this is probably the best decision. “Fine,” I say.

I pick out a nice gun for Gabe and make sure it has a full clip. “Here, take this one, it’s accurate and powerful. Just make sure you have the safety off.”

After Gabe turns on the tracking devices to make sure they work, he looks at me as if I won’t see him again. Since our cell phones are no longer useful with communications shut down, we agree that I will follow an hour later. With only two miles to travel, that should give them more than enough time to get to the house safely. After Father Joseph prays over both of us, I give them both one last hug before they leave through the tunnels.

After I get back from deploying the cell satellite outside, I come back to the den, curious as to what Henry has planned for me. “So, what is this unfinished training all about?” I ask.

“I have nothing left to teach you. Your skills are beyond anything I can add. You have the strength, speed, accuracy, and confidence that is required of any cunning warrior going into battle, but it’s your faith that you wield that will serve you best.”

I pause briefly over his concern before I reset the chamber of the Beretta 92FS I took off the wall earlier. Henry quickly grabs my hand.

“Guns can only go so far, but what good is it when you run out of bullets? You must be an efficient killer, Arena,” he says with a stony stare.

Henry pulls out the two swords that I drooled over the first day I laid eyes on them. There is nothing quite like holding cold steel in your hands and waiting to slay your enemy with the swinging grace of one stroke. Henry is right: These may be my weapons of choice when the time comes; after all, it’s what I’m most comfortable with. Henry
watches as I go through my progressions with the blades, striking in every position I know, and some that I came up with on my own.

I practice throwing knives at wall targets and two human-like mannequins to make the time pass without worrying. With extreme accuracy and little effort, I crouch on a chair, flinging daggers that gash into their eyes and necks.

“Here you go, Arena, I think this will fit you,” Henry says as he hands me a black jacket knitted from a material I’ve never seen before. It’s very lightweight, but strong enough for a knife not to cut through without extreme pressure. I put it on and tie it together, and it feels as though it was tailored perfectly for me. The back is designed to hold two Samurai swords, coincidentally the two that I hold in my hands.

Henry made this for his daughter years ago, hoping she would become interested in the arts, only to be disappointed by her rejection of them. I guess it’s not meant for everyone.

“Well, it fits perfectly. I guess it was meant for me after all,” I say. As I take off the jacket and pull the sleeve from my arm, my face flushes with anxiety as I notice the red flashing dot on the tracker has now disappeared.

“Gabe! Something has happened; his tracking device has stopped. We have to go now,” I say. I dash out of the room, grab two commander-sized M1911 pistols with sound suppressors, four full clips, three stealth-throwing knives, and my favorite scorpion dagger, or jugular ripper, as they call it.

Before me and Henry leave, I quickly turn on the television in the backroom just to see if there is any live local coverage of what we may run into. Surprisingly, a few stations are working, but the signal is weak. The only station that comes in clear enough is the national news with a recent story being developed…

“It’s
being reported that tens of thousands are being detained and shipped off to various classified locations. Many citizens have been killed in the past few days, and an outcry from the people has gone unnoticed, yet this impasse has fostered a brutal retaliation by federal government officials of every city in the nation. The ongoing riots and rebellion has desisted, leaving no hope for the fallen. A national Internet blackout has stopped all digital communication for most of the nation’s population and it is yet known if the event that has been initiated by our very government has had any global effects tied to foreign trade, or if any outside threats have deterred any international relations with our allies. The leadership has tried to portray this nation as
…” The television feed shuts off and the screen turns blue. No other channels are working, and now all communications or information has ceased to exist.

As dangerous as it may seem, going outside may be our best hope since I’m much better at cloaking my tracks and better suited for combat rather than Gabe. I can be stealth enough to go unseen for hours because of all the tricks and tips I picked up from Finnegan. Wow, how I miss him right now. Besides, I know my way from here outside rather than fighting to find the right tunnel that leads home.

The streets are completely dead, and not a soul in sight for the last mile we’ve walked—probably due to the curfew. Since I’ve never been out past curfew, the silence in the air makes me shiver a bit. Just about two hundred yards away, we spot about fifty federal soldiers, half of which are wearing gasmasks, and marching, or rather, goose-stepping, like German soldiers. It’s quite an unusual sight.

We finally make it to the house with no signs of any federal officers in the vicinity. The lights are still on, so that’s a good sign. I see an unfamiliar car in the driveway as we walk to the front porch. I cautiously open the door, making sure I don’t make a sound, and when I walk inside, I see an old man standing in the living room holding his hat. I move in closer and see everyone: Gabe, Juliana, Father Joseph, Myra, Daniel, and Niki.

I’m so excited that I rush into the living room with Henry trailing behind me. The smile on my face gradually flattens when I notice everyone’s morose expression. I’m so confused to what I’m witnessing; Myra and Niki are crying, and Juliana is hiding her face, burying it into Gabe’s chest, while Daniel holds his glasses in his hands. Daniel always has his glasses, and to see Niki crying like that is starting to frighten me. It’s an oddity I’m not sure I want revealed. Shouldn’t they be happy to see me?

“What?” I manage to whisper.

Gabe finally speaks up with his trembling lips. “Arena …” He pauses, then says, “They didn’t even give him a warning, they …”

“They what, who?” I ask, anxiously.

“It’s Jacob,” says Gabe softly.

I have no words, and my eyes fill with tears. “Where is he?” I ask, barely getting out the words.

Gabe looks at me as a tear trickles down his cheek. “Arena, he’s dead.”

If I had a choice of living out this pain for the rest of my life, or being shot dead at this very moment, I think I would prefer the latter.

“Jacob was just trying to find my watch. I accidently threw it away in the dumpster behind the store,” says the old man.