The Luminosity Series (Book 1): Luminosity (23 page)

My ears rang after the other choppers passed. Neither
of us could move, our bodies paralyzed by denial.

Before we knew it, a deafening roar approached from the
vicinity, snapping me out of shock. This time I had to plug my ears. Fighter
jets pierced through the auroras, heading westward, creating a shuddering boom
that sent us into a panicked frenzy. Soldiers raced down the streets, armed and
yelling as they prepared for the worst. In the town below, civilians scattered
in panic as guards tried to get them under control. But it was no use.

“Aubrey, we have to move!” he screamed above the
sounds before darting back into the kitchen. All of it seemed to pass me by in
slow motion. But the next sound signified I couldn’t wait a second longer.

Fear froze through my icy veins as the blaring of a
horn deafened the entire town. It was so loud, so sudden, that I felt nauseous
upon realizing what it was. The air-raid siren sealed the deal. This was
it—that single moment I had feared ever since the beginning. The anthem of our fall.

Everything around me swirled in circles. Out of air, I
choked on my gasps. Evan’s eyes grew larger as he shoved past me, grabbing the
bag and filling it with anything he could. We had little time, but my body
wanted to faint. I struggled to avoid it, prying my eyes open, forcing myself
to come out of its poisonous undertow.

As we bolted toward the garage, the lights flickered
again as another boom shook beneath us. The house rocked so violently, the
chandelier hanging above gave way, shattering on the living room floor. I
looked up as I stood there in the dark, taken by surprise at the sight of
shards spinning beside my feet. My face flushed as I pulled my boots back on.
Evan called from down the hallway.

“Aubrey, let’s go! Come on!” He motioned for me.

In my peripheral vision, two guards from the street
charged toward the house. I plunged in Evan’s direction. After reaching the
garage, the footsteps of soldiers got closer.

“Shit!” he burst out in frustration.

My heart stopped as I jolted my head in his direction.
He leaned over the gas cap of his dirt-covered jeep. A pump and set of tubes
lied on the cement next to it. It had been siphoned. Without fuel, we’d be
trapped.

I tried not to panic, but the terror had already
unleashed within me. The screams continued in town, seeping through the walls.
He dove to the other side of the garage. There stood his father’s old classic,
restored mustang—unused since the year he died. A loud thud rattled the walls, the
ground rumbling beneath us again.

“Help me!” he shouted, tearing away the cover of the
black beast. I didn’t hesitate. Afterward, Evan’s fingers stumbled upon a set
of keys as the shouts of guards and gunshots prevailed in the distance.

“Hurry!” I warned. He bit down on his lip, unlocking
the doors. I tossed our belongings into the back as I slid into the passenger
seat. Stumbling into the car, he forced the key in the ignition. But there was
no guarantee it would start after all these years. His breathing was out of
control as the panicky sweat trickled down his face. I held my breath as the
engine choked.

“No… don’t do this,” he said through gritted teeth.
Tears fell down my cheek as I closed my eyes with crossed fingers. He twisted
the keys again, his expression a painful, panicked grimace as he held it down
for several seconds. The car hiccupped, its deep, dark roar desperately wanting
to come to life, but it wasn’t enough.

“Damn it!” He slammed his arms into the steering
wheel.

“They’re coming!” I warned in a shaky tone as guards
flung through the garage door.

“No. They can’t trap us here like this!”

He plowed his foot onto the gas pedal as he turned the
key again. This time, the engine growled to life, the sound of its purr
vibrating beneath the tires, echoing through the walls. I exhaled in relief,
but we weren’t free yet.

“Hang onto something!” he yelled above its roar as he
put the car in reverse. I gripped the seat as we plummeted backward, the tires
squealing as we crashed through the door. Evan grabbed the shifter, putting it
in drive. He gunned the engine, rocketing us forward through the street as pieces
of the door flew back at the guards shooting at us.

After hurtling through the unguarded chain-link
barriers, we followed the gravel road that ran parallel to the highway. It’d
lead to the cellar.

Once we were far enough away, I turned the dials of
the radio, my hands shaking in terror. Soon, a man’s voice broke through the
airwaves as we drove away from the sirens.

“We are urging citizens to evacuate
to the nearest underground location until further notice.”

Static sounded again as Evan searched for another a.m.
station, the airwaves crackling as they always did. Then, just like the night
of my crash, the siren to the emergency alert signal screamed through the
speakers. It broke up, turning to static before returning in waves. I hadn’t
heard that piercing sound since. Closing my eyes, I reflected on that night
again—the moment right before everything fell apart. This too would be another
signal of collapse.

By now, my breathing had intensified when the reflection
of my mother and sister hit me. Questions poured into my head.
Where were
they? Were they okay? Did she get to Andrea in time?

Evan fidgeted, desperate to understand the words
struggling to emerge from the static. His behavior made my anxiety worse. Then,
without expecting it, a red and orange light gleamed from the north. Another
loud rumble, and the bright light streaked from far across the horizon. It grew
brighter, igniting the tips of trees before crashing into the earth in a fiery
explosion. A missile.

I held my forehead in a panic, unable to think. Evan
shook his head, fighting to snap himself out of the nightmare we were living.
We drove for a few minutes as the road roared beneath us, but the rumbling
subsided as fast as it arrived. I latched onto the overhead handle, glancing at
him in terror, his eyes in tears as he white-knuckled the wheel.

“What about the others?” I panicked.

“I don’t know, Aubrey. I don’t know.”

The ground pulsed as we raced up the driveway, my
mother’s house now partially ablaze. A blustery wind howled through the trees
as the sky gleamed a sinister shade of crimson from distant fires. My eyes
flinched when he saw the panic ascending on my face, knowing our town was
beyond repair. Once we slowed down enough, I hurled myself from the car, my
feet losing their grip on the loose gravel beneath them, sending me down. Before
Evan realized what happened, I launched myself forward again, the headlights
beaming a path through the smoky dust.

“Aubrey, wait!” He slammed on the brakes, my lungs
aching as I gagged from the dense plume of smoke gusting toward us.

The burning trees suggested a missile struck near the
house. With the gusty winds to carry their flaming embers, the fire spread with
ease. A screeching snap from the top of the roof jolted us into awareness.
As
if we needed another indication of the peril we were in.

When I reached the porch, my fingers stumbled to find
the right key. With the engine still roaring, Evan rushed after me in terror. Seconds
later, he was dragging me backward, the burden of fear weighing heavily on us
both as I squirmed from his grip.

“Aubrey, no! You can’t go in there!” Evan grasped hold
of me.

“I have to see if she left anything behind that could
lead me to my father!” I said, the tears a familiar addition to my unsteady
voice. His confusion allowed me the chance to push past his grip, and in
choosing the correct key, the front door flung open.

Upon first glimpse, the house was unrecognizable.
Furniture, shattered lamps and glass were dispersed across the uneven
floorboards, smoke pouring from the upstairs window. Fearful of the destruction
I’d soon discover, I took a few steps forward. The scent of the burning house
was familiar to me now, my mother’s voice resounding in my memory again,
shifting me back to my surrendered past.

“Aubrey, please. We have to go away
for a while.”

“But I don’t want to leave without
dad!”

“We have to, sweetheart.”

“How come I can’t say goodbye?”

“Because we’re playing hide and
seek. You like that game.”

“Can Evan play?”

“No, Aubrey… he has to stay here.”

I drowned in the past repeatedly, deaf to the present
and blind to the future. Evan marched up to me, bringing both hands to my
shoulders to jolt me out of my trance. He repeated my name, and when my focus
returned, the sense of urgency in his eyes reminded me this was real. This was
happening, now, and I had no choice but to take part.

“Hey! We have to get down into the cellar, okay?” He
was petrified by my lack of concentration. I hadn’t seen that look since the
night he helped me escape my burning vehicle. Impatient to my unresponsiveness,
he panicked. “Aubrey, there’s no time for this!” he pressed. I blinked hard,
trying to focus again.

“I won’t be long, I swear…” I said while I snapped
myself out of it. He lowered his shoulders in pity, signaling he understood why
it was so important to me.

As I made my way toward the staircase, Evan dashed
into the kitchen, stumbling through broken plates and silverware that had
crashed out of the cupboards. Rushing through the other rooms, he scoured for
anything useful to us. After I reached the top of the stairs, I plummeted into
my mother’s bedroom, the house groaning at the swinging of the door. My chest
was heavy as the stale smoke filled my lungs at a speed that would surely
suffocate me if I didn’t get out in time.

Without another second of hesitation, I approached the
top drawer of my mother’s dresser. Inside was the leather-bound diary—a written
account of my family’s dark past. Clutching it in my hand, I had every
intention of decoding it before the end.

I raced into my room, dragging the large backpack of
supplies out of my closet. Grateful for having the urgency to pack a bug-out
bag beforehand, I picked it up and turned to leave. But before I reached the
doorway, the sight of memories on the floor crippled me. All the pictures I had
taken before the announcement had fallen over, spreading out amongst my feet.
Photos of my mother, Andrea and I. Images, flashbacks of Janelle, Evan and
I—smiling, hopeful, and normal, the old life, the past haunting me as my
surroundings blurred.

Desperate shouts came from Evan as he rushed up the
stairs. My pulse banged throughout my body, the blood rushing from my head to
my heart, wanting to explode. He stood in the doorway, horror-stricken as the
flames unleashed from my mother’s window. Panicked, he propelled himself
through the emptiness ahead of me in the seconds leading to my breakdown. That
was when the house grumbled again, unable to withstand the pressure from the
heat much longer. There wasn’t much time before it too would crumble to pieces.

“You can’t do this right now, Aubrey. Come on,” he
warned. His eyes circled above as the collapsing roof snapped, the breakage
spreading out like veins across the ceiling. My coughing intensified as he
picked up the backpack next to me. “Aubrey, get up! Now!” The walls rumbled
again. Fire from the roof stretched into my room, the tips of flames reaching
out like claws. My bed had already gone up in flames. He lifted me up with him
as I attempted to snatch up the pictures.

“No! Wait!” I screamed as I fought his grip around my
waist, my fingers scratching through the smoke.

“This whole house is about to go!” he yelled. I winced
in tears as I accepted this would be the last time I’d see this place—and the
memories.

Pulling me alongside him, he led us out the door, my
feet stumbling on the rate of his speed. After we got outside, the cracking of the
siding forced me to spin around. The roof released, marking the beginning to
the cave in.

We bolted to the car, grabbing things from the backseat
as the ground continued to shake beneath us. The siren blared through the
speakers, unforgiving to the fuzziness before. Images from my nightmares
flooded my mind as the house slowly weakened and gave way. I crouched down in
distress, ignoring Evan’s shouts, my heart erupting as it fell apart. Knowing I
couldn’t afford to waste another second, I choked on the tears as I entered the
garage. Through the window, the northern lights appeared over the horizon
again, now stronger and brighter than before. In shades of green, the lights gleamed
through the smoke like a toxic cloud come to smother the world.

Evan caught up, carrying our bags as I unlocked the
cellar door. Using his flashlight, he lit up the darkness, guiding me down the
narrow cement stairway descending underground. After struggling to shut the
doors above us, the relief on his face was clear.

“Your mother was smart to have this,” Evan said as the
sounds from outside diminished to a muffled rumble.

“She knew we’d need to hide again one day,” I said.

Seconds later, the tears caught back up to me. As he
regained his breath, he held out his arms, still trembling from the adrenaline.
I embraced him, grateful that I wasn’t alone. And as I closed my eyes, he
refused to let go. “I don’t—I don’t think I’m cut out for this,” I said, the
closeness of the walls enhancing my nausea.

“Hey... Look at me. We’re safe down here,” he said,
the strain of shouting and smoke inhalation lingered in his voice as he put his
hands on both sides of my shivering face to calm me, the glow of his flashlight
illuminating the surrounding walls. I kept my eyes on our feet, struggling to
keep a steady stance. “Look.” He nodded, shining the light along the cellar
walls. I stared at him as he waited for me to look behind him. After noticing
the stack of supplies lined up on a shelf ahead, I gasped silently. In front of
us was row upon row of canned and packaged goods—meats, rice, beans, even
chocolate. Below it were several large canisters of water. On the opposite
angle were medical supplies, pain relievers and first aid kits. And on the far
side, a rack of guns, knives, rope, and lighters lined the wall. Overwhelmed, I
put one hand over my mouth as I cried in relief, still shaken, but bursting
with gratitude for my mother’s antics.

♦  ♦  ♦

I coughed from the dust as we sorted through the
supplies. The cellar gave off a musty, mildew-like smell, making my nausea
worse. Iron lanterns lined the walls, just like in the old cabin we visited
past the border. Without a flashlight or candle, nothing else was visible. I
breathed the heat from my breath into my hands, rubbing them together to try to
warm them. The snap of a match echoed in the dark as he lit the lanterns, the
flickering of light becoming a lullaby, numbing us both into exhaustion. I was
hungry, but hesitant to consume anything.

Sitting on the small cot tucked away in the corner,
dread filled me as I observed our surroundings. With only a few blankets to
sleep with, and a bucket divided by a single wall for restroom purposes, the filth
of our confinement sickened me.

“We should eat something. Keep our strength up,” Evan
said, grabbing two tin cans from the shelf. “Here.”

Upon closer viewing, a full container of old generic
spaghetti noodles with tomato sauce came into view as he reached out to give it
to me. After he opened it, the sour smell repelled me as I cringed at the
thought of eating it.

“What? I figured after living off of these things for
so long, you’d grow to like this stuff again.” He smirked at me as I shook my
head.

“You’re wrong.” I raised a brow at him. He snickered
at me to lighten the mood.

My stomach churned after consuming the cold, acidy slop.
Now, time was impossible to tell as my exhaustion took hold within the
darkness.

“You should rest.” He nodded toward the cot. I gave in
to his stubbornness, too tired to argue about it. Evan pulled out a pillow from
one of the shelves. After leaning back, I lifted my head to prop the pillow, my
eyelids now heavy with sleep.

“Thanks…”

“Anything to help…” He sat on the floor beside me,
leaning himself up against the wall. Particles of dust fell from the ceiling,
disintegrating into the stale air we breathed. And within seconds, we fell
asleep, ignoring the distant explosions from above.

♦  ♦  ♦

I woke with no hint of how much time had passed. My
eyes adjusted to the candle flickering on the tiny stone table, the acid sloshing
in the pit of my stomach as Evan remained passed out beside me. Rising from the
cot, I interrupted the eerie silence. Now, it was quiet above ground. Evan
lifted his head up, still blinking as he pulled himself out of sleep. I rushed
to the bucket in the far corner, stumbling onto my knees on the cold, dirty
floor. Unable to hold it back, I vomited into it, the burning in my throat
forcing me into spasms of coughing afterward. And before I knew it, Evan was
leaning beside me.

“Here... drink some water...” he said, handing me a
gallon jug before turning around. I tilted it against my face with weak arms, losing
control under its weight. The liquid rushed down my neck before I regained my
grip on it. He pulled it away, allowing me to breathe again before reaching his
hand out to help me off the floor. I coughed as he held me steady, my hair
dripping wet on the bottoms, my clothes soaked. As he walked me back to the
cot, I felt guilty for needing his aid again.

“Why don’t you take the cot this time?” I winced,
unable to find my strained voice.

“No. You need it more than I do...” he said, looking
at me in pity as I shivered from the cool, damp air.

The light from the candle faded, barely lighting up
the side of his face. Before I could say anything, he shifted toward the large
backpack on the other end of the floor, grabbing inside the bag as my coughs bounced
off the stone walls.

“Here, you’ll be warmer in this.” He tossed me one of
his sweatshirts.

I paused after he turned his back to me. In that
second my eyelids flinched in defeat. I was flattered by how he always seemed
to want to help, but I hated feeling so incapable around him.

After ridding myself of the damp shirt, I lifted the
sweatshirt over my head, guiding my arms through the sleeves. For a moment I
was blind until his shadow once again flickered on the wall next to me. As he
twisted back around, the warmth of his sweater encompassed me.

“Thanks.” I inhaled deeply before his guilt made it
impossible to look away.

My heart raced as I cleared the tangled strands of
hair obscuring my vision, unable to breathe when his eyes wandered over me.
After too quick a smile, he let out a breath as his expression recoiled.

“I’ll try the radio again later. For now, just try to
rest,” he mumbled before pulling his painful glance away from me again. By the
time he finished speaking, a sense of unease came over him. But there was more
than worry behind his eyes.

“Hey…” I stopped him. He jerked his head back at me,
studying my expression, waiting for me to speak.