Beat (29 page)
Authors: Jared Garrett
Blank faces turned to terror. People started shouting, tapping EarComs and running toward the residential zones. Nearly half of the crowd leapt on cycles and started pedaling furiously away. Three or four people fell, victims of the knockout. I stepped toward them. A group of Enforsers, their Keepers slung on their backs, split up and lifted the unconscious people, carrying them toward safety.
My mom and dad ran into view. Or at least walked fast. Good, they were being careful about the knockout. I met them and fell into a hug. It couldn’t last. “Mom, Dad, we have to go.”
Some kind of quiet thunder rolled over the city, from far above. We looked up and watched as a cluster of aircraft, all of them dark and light-absorbing, zoomed into view maybe two kilometers overhead. Terror filled me. Holland had to have sent them.
I grabbed my parents and shouted through the EarCom. “Melisa, Koner, Pol. Grab Devera. There’s a pod in Prime One. Get in there. We take off in—”
A high-pitched whine cut me off. As we ran back into Prime One, I glanced around just as something cone-shaped and metallic slam into the ground just outside the dome. It shattered the road and the sidewalk buckled for meters all around. The shockwave of its impact almost burst my eardrums.
The missile or whatever it was whined loudly, then the top of it blew off. A massive plume of green-tinged smoke billowed out. Our view was cut off as the door into Prime One slid closed. More thunderous booms shook the ground.
My heart slammed in my chest. “Mom, my heart rate.”
Her eyes went wide. She scanned the room we were running through. “Melisa, right?”
Melisa appeared, running alongside. “Yes?”
“How do I get my Papa off?”
Melisa handed her a tiny pin. We stopped for a moment as my Mom worked. Melisa ran ahead, dragging Devera with her. I saw Koner and Pol, along with Nate and a bunch of other people, dive into the Enforser pod. Where was Bren’s family? I hoped Jan and her parents were in a pod somewhere, escaping what had to be some kind of killer gas.
I tugged at my mother. “Mom, what are you doing?”
Dad’s grip on my shoulder tightened. I looked up at him. He was staring at my mother. Their eyes met and he nodded. His hand wrapped around my wrist and he started dragging me toward the pod, my mom catching up after a moment.
“He’s at 140, Kate,” my dad said.
“Bruse,” my mom sounded terrified. “The Nursery! The babies—”
“I know. But we can’t—”
“Go!” I thought that was Koner’s voice, but the pounding in my head was so loud I wasn’t sure.
My dad lifted me, carrying me into the pod. I was having trouble seeing, thinking.
We got in the pod and the light changed as the door closed behind us.
I felt something wrap around my left wrist, something warm and safe feeling. My heart wouldn’t slow down.
The pod lifted off.
The Papa settled onto my wrist, immediately giving off loud beeps. My heart beat loud between my ears, in my throat, through my whole body.
Everything went dark.
Who was hitting me? And why was my bed so hard?
I blinked, my head feeling like it had been stuffed full of gray protein paste. As my vision cleared, I saw my mother bent over me, tight concerned eyes staring at my face. She straightened and looked past my head. “Bruse, help him up.”
I stood, feeling hemmed in on every side. There almost wasn’t enough room in the pod to breathe. Koner and Pol stood near my mother, Melisa too. Devera was holding Melisa’s hand. The vibration of the pod’s propulsion units vibrated through the metal floor. I looked around, taking in the crowd of loudly talking people. The pod smelled a little sour and I realized that had to be the smell of a bunch of sweating, scared people. There had to be at least thirty people in this thing.
A hand squeezed my shoulder. “Dad,” I said, turning. “Did others get out? The babies?”
My dad’s wide face broke into a smile. “Yes. I heard a group of Enforsers showed up and got every single one loaded in a couple pods.” I heard the relief in his voice. “Nik, I—” He swallowed hard. “I’m so proud of you, how brave you’ve been.” He pulled me into a hug.
Looking past his shoulder, I got a good look through the round windows of the pod. Ten, fifteen, maybe twice that number of pods were flying near us at different altitudes. And that was only the pods I could see.
Mom joined in, squeezing me tightly. Warmth and exhaustion washed over me. Tears pushed at the back of my eyes, fighting their way out. I scrubbed my face on my dad’s gray shirt. “I’m so sorry.”
They squeezed tighter. “No, it’s okay,” Mom said. Her face was right next to my ear; her voice was warm and good. “What you’ve gone through—and Bren.” She couldn’t finish.
I felt another set of arms go around me and craned my head to see. Melisa, tears falling freely down her cheeks. I yanked an arm free and brought her closer. “Your family?”
She nodded. “Just heard from them. They’re ok.” She forced a smile.
I understood. How could I not? We’d both lost Bren.
Suddenly a bunch of bodies piled into us, voices loud with laughter. “We made it! We did it!” That was Pol. My family and I were totally submerged in a tangle of arms and excitement.
As the pod carried us away from New Frisko, we stood there, pulling each other tight, smiling into the new world we’d just created.
Jared Garrett is a family man raising six kids with his best friend and wife of two decades. He’s been telling lies in story form since he was thirteen. Recently relocated from Utah to Seattle, he has worked in education and corporate training for a long time and is happy to say he enjoys his day job, even though it keeps him from writing more stories. He had an odd childhood in a nomadic cult, which he left at seventeen. He’s worked as a firefighter, a BBQ restaurant manager, a bellman, and as a rubber vulcanizing engineer, among many others. He won several writing contests while attending Brigham Young University and received an Honorable Mention in the Writers of the Future contest. His favorite authors are Terry Pratchett, Robert Ludlum, Stephen King, Katherine Paterson, Douglas Adams, Patricia McKillip, and a lot more. If you ask him where his story ideas come from, be prepared for a lengthy discussion about inspiration dust, hauling a towel wherever you go, and dogs. Lots and lots of dogs. No, seriously. Dogs.
Connect with Jared on Twitter:
https://twitter.com/jaredgarrett
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