Arkadium Rising (11 page)

Her attention shifted from the sky to her mother rushing out across the patio. Kylie rolled her eyes and glanced at RJ.

"That's weird." RJ looked sidelong at his tablet, searching for damage. "No power." He pressed the button a couple of times and then flipped the tablet over and removed the battery. When he replaced it, he gave off a defeated grunt.

Linda Dwyer pulled her daughter into a tight embrace. "Lord and Jesus, so sorry my girl," she muttered into her ear. "My girl, my fault… always… never could figure it out, but Jesus… his punishment. Dear Lord, Hail Mary… Hail Mary! Keep us safe, my Lord…"

"Mom, I'm okay," Kylie said, trying to pull free.

"I should've never let you out of my sight. None of this would've happened,
none of it
, if I kept a better eye on you. My Lord, my
Lord
, please forgive—"

"Mother!" Kylie shouted, breaking the spell holding her mom. "I'm fine. Nothing happened. God isn't punishing you, okay? And you know why? 'Cause that's just a bunch of superstition."

"Kylie—" RJ tried to step between the two Dwyer women, but Linda's rubber-gloved slap across her daughter's cheek froze him in his tracks.

Kylie touched her stinging cheek, shocked more at the unhinged change in her mother's personality than the pain.

"Don't you ever say that about your savior! Don't you dare…" Her mom trailed off as the trembling in her voice choked off her words.

"Mom…"

Linda Dwyer blinked a few times and then looked at her as she would a stranger. Once again Kylie regretted speaking up about her true feelings. All it ever seemed to accomplish—either with her mom, RJ, or anyone else close to her—was to cause discomfort and pain.

"Kylie… Mrs. Dwyer, look!" RJ cut in. "It's falling. There's… there's no contrail. Nothing…"

They both looked to where he was pointing—just shy of the tree line at the horizon. A passenger jet, pointed nose-down, fell soundlessly out of sight. A few heart-rending seconds later a rumble shifted under their feet.

"Oh my Lord! It… it crashed. This is it. The reaping," Linda said, then sucked in a breath. "No, it's… it's
you
. You have the devil in you, girl.
You
and your slut mind and swaying slut hips. You… you are bringing hell home to roost."

"Mom, Jesus. Listen to what you're saying!"

"We should get inside," RJ tried to interrupt, placing a steadying hand on Kylie's shoulder. "All of us."

"No. Not me. All my efforts to steer you on a righteous path have failed." Linda Dwyer pursed her lips and expertly slipped off her rubber gloves, tucking them under her arm while she removed her apron. She folded it neatly before placing it gently, almost reverently, on the patio at her feet. She topped off the pile with the gloves and said to RJ, "Tell your father that in lieu of notice, I'd like my vacation time paid out." Without giving her daughter another glance, she headed off in the direction of their trailer.

Her mother had always couched her everyday language in a thin sheen of religiosity, but this was something else entirely. Her typical "cleanliness is next to godliness" act was on a completely different plain than invoking damnation and devils. And the unsettled look in her eyes… Something had snapped inside her, something Kylie wasn't sure was reparable.

"Kylie…" RJ said.

She couldn't look away from her mother's mousy, nervous strides as she headed for the path that Kylie had taken just minutes earlier. It was almost reassuring to see her pull a crumpled pack of cigarettes from her blouse pocket, set a butt on her lip, and then light it with a match. Kylie saw this as normal Linda Dwyer behavior; perhaps she wasn't completely off her rocker.

Kylie finally looked away when her mother disappeared down the path into the woods. RJ placed his arm over her shoulders. She felt the pressure of his cheek against the top of her head as he leaned into her. It felt good, no matter the hurt she just experienced.

"Sorry about that," she said in a small voice. "I don't know what's gotten into her."

"That's easy. We don't know what's going on. There's been explosions… an earthquake, and a plane crash—all within a matter of minutes. I don't blame her for freaking out. Tell you the truth I'm kind of freaking out myself."

"She's always seen me as a way to fix her past mistakes."

"That sounds familiar," RJ said with a knowing chuckle.

"I guess I'm not turning out how she planned. It's been building for a while."

"That doesn't mean I have to like it." He lifted his head and smiled. The unguarded look he'd revealed when the explosions rattled the sky was largely gone but a hint of it remained. As long as she saw a glimmer of the truth she thought she could carry on without fear of dying of embarrassment. "Let's go inside and figure out what's going on. My computer's busted so I'll need to use my sister's."

"Lead the way." She mustered up as close to a smile as she could manage.

RJ didn't lower his arm from her shoulders as they walked toward the main house. He no longer trembled in fear, and in his strength, Kylie realized she was no longer scared, either. She knew it was foolish, but she felt that as long as she could be with RJ, she could face anything.

The cool inside air dried the sweat from Kylie's skin as they entered the kitchen. She sat on a high stool and rested her elbows on the vast granite island as RJ grabbed a couple of glasses from the cabinet. Sunlight gleamed on nearly every surface—from the glossy countertops, to the high-end appliances, to the glass-fronted kitchen cabinets. She smelled the lavender and lemon oil from her mother's cleaning supplies, but besides a sponge resting on the counter near the sliding door, there was no evidence that her mother had ever been here. Her presence in the Thompsons' house was marked by absence; in her wake she left a lavish landscape unblemished by a speck of dust or single water spot on the edge of the kitchen sink.

Kylie's heart felt heavy. And empty. She knew those feelings conflicted, but it was true.

"I was afraid of that." RJ peered inside the open refrigerator.

"What now?"

"The power's out."

"I was thinking. What if it was an accident at Kennelly Chemical? That's a fertilizer plant, right? Can't that stuff explode?" She waited for that familiar disappointed look from RJ when she said something stupid, but when he brought a pitcher of lemonade over to the island, he only looked concerned.

"I don't think so. It could, in theory, I suppose, but I think it's something else. Something bigger." He paused long enough to drink down most of his lemonade and then refill it. "Ever hear of an EMP?"

"No… what's that?"

"It means electromagnetic pulse. EMP for short. It's theorized that if there's a massive enough explosion high enough in the atmosphere, it would damage electronic circuitry."

"Like a nuke?"

RJ nodded.

"So, what, you mean no electricity across the entire planet?"

"I don't know. It's just a theory. And chances are I'm way off base."

"If there's no power, then it'll be like living in cavemen times," Kylie said with a little laugh. RJ's grave expression drained her of any humor. "Seriously?"

RJ went over to the bank of light switches at the entrance to the kitchen and flipped every switch. Nothing happened, not even a momentary flicker of a single light bulb.

She gasped and grabbed her cell phone from her pocket. She pressed the power button, but again, nothing responded to her efforts.

"It's war, isn't it?"

RJ shrugged, distracted. He looked lost. Kylie had never seen RJ without an answer at the ready.

"The Muslims, the terrorists, they're getting back at us. It has to be. Who else would attack us?"

"Don't jump to conclusions." He flipped the switch for the exhaust fan over the stove, then went over to the set of light switches for the dining room. Nothing.

"What else could it be? We're being attacked."

"Not necessarily. It could have been an accidental explosion, like, I don't know, a military jet carrying some top-secret cargo. Or, I guess, it could be a natural phenomenon, like a massive solar storm or an asteroid exploding at just the right altitude in the upper atmosphere."

"Doesn't really matter, does it? We're screwed." She stared at the dead cell phone clenched in her fist, her fingers cramping and fish-belly white.

"Kylie, don't freak out. At least not until the evidence points to that consensus."

"You're treating this like a science experiment, aren't you?" She looked at him and something in her eyes made him look away. She pressed on nonetheless. "Coming up with theories to prove or disprove. Like this is all just a game."

"No, not like a game, Kylie. Just using rationality to help keep a steady head. Would you rather I go off all crazy and ranting like your mom…?" he said before stopping himself. "I didn't mean…"

"No, just forget it. You're probably right. Rational people don't lose their heads too often, do they?"

"I'd like to think not."

Kylie pressed the power button to her cell phone, hoping it would eventually force it to reboot or at least show some spark of life. Nothing happened after a good twenty seconds. She almost tossed it aside, but couldn't imagine not having it within easy reach. Instead, she placed it back in the front pocket of her jeans, hoping it wasn't permanently damaged. She felt guilty about not returning Gabby's text right away; she hoped her friend was okay.

"So, what do we do now?"

She felt suddenly uncomfortable. She was alone with RJ during the middle of the day. That by itself wasn't the focus of her discomfort and wasn't even uncommon. But in this instance of aloneness there was no power, which meant they had no distractions—no cell phones, no TV, no tablets or music. Plus, he knew that she liked him. That news was real, unavoidable, and as the minutes passed, unbearable. "Um… we could probably…" she started, but had no idea what she was going to suggest. Talk? Have sex? She blushed at the thought, and luckily, the front door swung open and a chorus of swearing complaints filled the air.

"Ah, that must be the fam." RJ looked as relieved as Kylie felt. "Dawn, that you?" he called out and headed down a long hallway decorated with framed pictures of major league baseball parks. Kylie followed close behind him. The square footage of the spacious hallway would rival that of her entire home. She felt a chill even though the air conditioner no longer churned.

"Yeah, Junior, we made it," Dawn said.

"Finally," Monique Thompson added.

At the center of the grand two-story foyer, his sister and step-mother collectively unburdened their arms of nearly a dozen shopping bags from stores and boutiques Kylie would never even dream of entering. Monique was tall and slender. She wore chunky-heeled sandals and white shorts that made her glossy, caramel-colored legs appear supernaturally long. Her normally perfect hair was a clumpy, sweaty mess. Her makeup had streaked, too. Dawn looked like a fashion doll thrown into a river for a quick dip by a petulant child. Six inches shorter than Monique, she was her step-mom's mini-me—similar upscale fashion, similar hair and expensive manicure. They were often mistaken for sisters, which satisfied Monique to no end.

"Did you two loot your way out of St. Louis?" RJ chuckled.

"No, we just hiked a mile because the stupid Beamer decided to up and die on us in the hills." Monique fanned the top of her silken shirt against her chest. Sweat beaded her face and both women had wet rings at the armpits. "I told Reggie we should've bought Japanese."

"And I forgot my cell, and Monique's battery died, so we had to walk." Dawn rolled her eyes. "Can you believe it? Like,
walk
in this heat? Who does that? We were about to die of heat exhaustion, and nobody, and I mean nobody, came by."

"And I'm sure if they did they wouldn't stop for the likes of us," Monique added, and then just seemed to notice Kylie, who stood a couple of steps behind RJ.

"You mean two wealthy socialites?" he said.

"You know what I'm talking about, Junior," Monique said, then eyed Kylie. "Certain people, and I don't mean people like you, Kelly… well, you
know
what I'm talking about!"

Monique always called her by the wrong name, as if she wasn't important enough to remember. It had gotten to the point that she would probably turn around if someone called out for a Kelly, Karen or Carlene.

"I just thought of something…" RJ said and turned to Kylie. "My dad… he's on the west coast this week. The Dodgers, Padres, Giants…" He trailed off.

"I'm sure he's fine." Kylie hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.

"What are you talking about?" Dawn asked.

Neither RJ nor Kylie said a word. Instead, RJ went to the panel of light switches by the front door, toggled the lot of them up and down, and then swiped his fingers along the buttons of the security alarm pad. Nothing.

Confusion filled the weighty silence.

"I don't get it," Monique finally said.

"Didn't you hear the explosion?" RJ said.

Monique and Dawn exchanged an unknowing look. RJ looked to Kylie and she could only shrug.

"Sorry, Junior, we were singing along to the new Beyoncé."

"Of course you were. And I'm sure the stereo was blasting so loud you didn't happen to notice the explosion that knocked out the power grid for… I don't know how far."

"Big deal. Some transformer goes down. Happens all the time out here in the middle of nowhere," Monique said dismissively before turning to Dawn. "I don't know about you, Dee, but I'm going to slip out of these clothes and take a dip in the pool."

"I'll join you," Dawn said. With that decided, and with the arduous trek through the hills seemingly forgotten, both reached for their shopping bags.

"You don't get it!" The tension in RJ's voice stopped them as they neared the curving staircase that wrapped the grand foyer like a giant protective arm. "It's not just some busted transformer for the power company to come out and fix. This is widespread. It could be the whole state. It could be the entire Midwest. Farther even."