The Fallout (12 page)

“Yeah,” I said. “Because we know you like things to be easy. I’m sorry Lexie and I are here to mess up your day.”

He shot a glance at me. “I said I was sorry. Just let it go.”

Lexie raised her eyebrows at me, but I ignored her and looked out the window.

“Uh-uh.” Lexie shook her head so hard a few strands of hair escaped from her bun. “That kid is not coming with us.”

Eddy turned around. “Oh, come on. I told him we’d pick him up.”

Lee took the next exit and we pulled into a sketchy strip mall that had seen its better days. The sun was shining over the blacktop, and a lone figure stood at the end of the parking lot near a bus stop.

Eddy pointed. “There he is.”

“I’m the oldest here, which makes me in charge,” Lexie said. “Mom must have been sleep deprived or
insane
to agree to this and I say no way. You just pull up there and Eddy, you tell him…”

She trailed off as we got close enough to see Tony. Instead of the ragged hoodie and jeans from the other day, he wore a Mariners shirt and clean jeans and running shoes. Nice ones. His hair, which had been covered by a cap that rainy day, was dark and curly. He saw us and waved, then smiled, revealing even white teeth and dimples.

I heard a click.

Lexie had unbuckled her seat belt and slid over into the middle seat. “Eddy, tell him he can sit by me.”

My mouth dropped open. “Wait! What happened to him being a stranger?”

Lexie pulled on her bun until her hair fell down, loose around her shoulders. She ran a hand through it. “He doesn’t exactly look
dangerous.
”

Resisting the urge to bang my head against the window, I watched as Tony opened the door. He smiled and greeted all of us, then got in the car.

I scowled the rest of the way, watching Eddy and Lexie gush over Tony. Eddy fist-bumped him and said, “Glad you could make it.”

Tony said, “Me too.” He turned to Lexie and held out a hand. “I’m Tony. Nice to meet you.”

Lexie shook it and giggled a little.

Was she blushing?

Seriously?

Eddy said, “That’s Alex. And EJ.” He patted Lee on the arm. “This here’s our uncle.”

I rolled my eyes and glared out the window at the traffic. Great. Part of me had been hoping Tony would be so obviously not a good fit with us that Eddy would agree with me and never invite him anywhere again. But in less than five minutes, that strange teenager had my sister swooning.

Tony said something that made both Eddy and Lexie laugh, and I stopped listening.

When we got to the stadium, Lee pulled into a VIP parking area and we all walked in together through the sky bridge and up to the small, private suite that was ours for the day.

A buffet was laid out on a side table, and silver dishes of ice held a variety of sodas, juices, and bottled water. “Wow,” said both Tony and I at the same time. We looked at each other, and then I looked away.

Sure, I’d grown up with similar layouts, never giving a thought to where my next meal was coming from, but it had been awhile. Having so many options of food and drink at my fingertips was something I had not yet learned to take for granted. I grabbed some napkins and dug in, taking a hot dog and dumping sweet relish all over it.

A couple tables were set up by the windows and I sat down at one. Our vantage point was high up, but right over home plate. Eddy, Lexie, and Tony were filling their plates, and Lexie came and sat with me.

Tony and Eddy sat down in leather chairs right beside us. Tony leaned back in a leather chair, looking totally relaxed as he and Lexie talked. How in the world was he fitting in so well with my family? Obviously from the wrong side of the tracks, so to speak, he should have been feeling uncomfortable, or at the very least, he should have been one of those people who rebels against the excess of the suite.

But he was just enjoying every moment.

I wasn’t. But maybe I wasn’t being fair to him. Maybe I was being elitist by thinking he should bow over backward with gratitude.

I finished eating. There was still time before the first inning started. “I’m gonna go find a bathroom.”

Lee stood up to go with me, but I shook my head before Tony could notice my “uncle” wanting to accompany me to the bathroom. Lee didn’t look happy, but he sat back down and pointed. “There’s one down the hall.”

I smiled at him and whispered, “I’ll be fine.”

Out in the hallway, there were a lot of people gathering at the door of a suite. There was an exclamation, and a little girl in a wheelchair was pushed inside, and several people followed her. A bartender had just walked out of the room with a tray of dirty glasses and headed my way. I moved out of his way and kept going past that suite to the bathroom. On my way back, I passed the open door and someone called out something.

I kept walking.

“EJ?”

The sound of her voice made me stop more than the name did, since I certainly didn’t answer to it. I turned around.

Verity Blum was standing right in front of me.

CHAPTER
FIFTEEN

Wearing a pink Mariners jersey, denim capris, and white flip-flops, Verity just stood there, hands on her hips, looking at me with her eyebrows raised.

“Why are you here?” The words spilled out before I realized how rude they sounded.

She cocked her head toward the party going on in the suite. “We came here with my brother. A wish-filling charity thing.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why are you here? Another research paper?”

“No. I’m just here at the game with my family.” I started to motion toward the small suite, and then realized what that might lead to. So I gestured back toward the bathroom, and the steps that led to the general seating. “My mom surprised us. I’m way over in the nosebleeds but I wandered and ended up here.” Way too many details. Truth is always simpler. I shrugged. “I better go before someone catches me up here.”

“Wait,” she said. “You could come in with me. They have tons of food.”

I glanced inside the door. “I probably shouldn’t. I better get back.” I smiled at her. “Thanks though. I’m glad I ran into you.”

She frowned. “Are you really? Because I thought, when you didn’t text me back, that—”

“No, I was just … busy. Trying to write that stupid paper.” I shrugged.

“So you’ll text me?”

I nodded. “Definitely.”

“Okay.” She set her hand on my arm for a moment, then went back into the suite.

I breathed out, relieved, and went to head back to my suite.

As I turned the corner, I ran smack into a man in a black T-shirt and black jeans. “Oh, excuse me, I—” As I looked more closely at him, my eyes narrowed. Was he the man from Costco? The man from the doomsday preparation site? I started to doubt myself, but as he looked up at me, his eyes widened, and he started to back off.

I reached for him, but he dodged me and jolted forward, and I had to turn around to chase after him. “Wait!” I called. I ran after him, glad the hallway was fairly empty so no one seemed to notice.

What was he doing there? Following me again? Following us? But how did he know where we’d be?

I had nearly caught up to him when a door to one of the luxury suites opened and a bunch of kids Reese’s age poured out, cutting me off from him. I tried to swim my way through, but there were too many.

I saw the man farther down the corridor. He had stopped right at the stairway and was looking back at me. There was a smile on his face, like he was glad he got away. But then he reached in his pocket and pulled out a small white card.

A business card?

He held up the card, making sure I saw. Then he pulled out a pen, jotted something on the back of the card, and placed it on the railing of the stairs. He looked back at me.

I nodded.

He disappeared down the stairs.

As soon as I could get through the crowd, I headed over there and grabbed the card. I glanced at the back. A phone number. I flipped the card over. The front was a picture of a very nice kitchen with granite countertops. He obviously wasn’t trying to hide from me, leaving the card proved that. But if he wanted to talk, why did he run?

After the game, we dropped Tony off at the strip mall. Eddy got out for a minute and walked him over to the bus stop. I watched them laughing, and then Eddy waved and walked back to the car.

I couldn’t believe Eddy would trust him that much.

As soon as we pulled out of the parking lot, I asked, “Does he know who we are?”

Eddy said, “No. Duh. He just thinks we’re some rich people. That’s all.”

Lexie said, “I think he’s cool. You should tell him who we are, Eddy.”

“Why?” I asked.

Lexie shrugged. “He wouldn’t tell anyone, I bet.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, why ruin a good thing?’

I just stared out the window the rest of the drive. Back at the house, I went up to my room and pulled the business card out of my back pocket. The phone number on the back had a Seattle area code. I wasn’t all that sure I was ready to call him up. What could he want from me?

I flipped the card over and looked at the photo of the kitchen. The top line read,
TRINITY CONDOS.
Under that were the words:
A Luxury Survival Development.

“What?” My heart started to race as I went to my computer and typed in the website for Trinity Condos.

The first thing to pop up was a picture of a steel door and the words:
Click here if you want to survive.
“You’ve got to be frickin’ kidding me.” Still, I clicked and went into the site and read the headline.

Trinity Condos! Secure, high-quality living during a long-term survival situation. Our luxury condos are built to withstand a nuclear explosion.

Below that were several tabs. I clicked on the one labeled
Amenities.

Each three-bedroom, two-bath condo contains a five-year supply of freeze-dried survival food per person, for a maximum of six people. The food has a shelf life of 25 years and is stored in oxygen-free containers.

Dad should have thought of that.

The description of amenities continued, describing how the twenty available condos were all part of a larger space, which had, among other things, a community library, theater, gym, and … a hydroponics lab.
To provide fresh produce for the duration of your underground stay.

I shuddered. God, it sounded like the Compound. I clicked on the tab labeled
History.

The Trinity Condo units are inside a former US nuclear missile base in rural Kansas, six stories underground with elevator access.

I skimmed the rest, then went back to the home page and clicked on
Prices.

Prices start at
$
2.5 million.

“Holy crap.” Was the guy who left the card the developer of the condos? Did they really exist or was it a scam to get people’s money? If they did exist … it meant people were on their way to being just as nuts as Dad had been. Except that, to my father, survival had turned into a game. A game that needed to be switched up now and then, a game to control.

But I doubted anyone spending that much money looked at survival as a game.

Before I could rethink it, I grabbed my phone and dialed the number on the card. There was one ring, then a click.

“Hello?”

I said, “You probably know who this is.”

He breathed out. “Mr. Yanakakis.”

“Why’d you run?” I asked.

“What?”

“If you want to talk to me, which you obviously do since you’ve been following us, why’d you run?” I waited.

He didn’t answer for a moment, but then said, “You seemed a bit … volatile.”

Volatile?
“Seriously? Why wouldn’t I be! You’ve been following me and my family and—”

“Please! Just give me a chance to explain.” He sounded desperate.

Honestly, I kind of wanted to know what he had to say. “Fine,” I said. “Explain.”

“My name is Tom Barron. I’m a developer.”

“Yeah.” I glanced at the computer screen. “I looked up your site.”

“Really?” He sounded excited. “What did you think?”

What did I think?
I frowned. “I think you’re nuts.”

He was quiet. Then he said, “You of all people should understand the seriousness of the situation.”

I had to laugh. “Are you kidding me? I spent six years under the frickin’ ground because my father was insane! I think anybody who would willingly shell out millions of dollars to do the same thing is just as nuts as he was.”

“Your father wasn’t crazy,” said Tom Barron. “Ever heard of Nightwatch?”

I let the name roll around in my head a bit. “No.”

“Do you have a computer there?”

“Yeah.”

He said, “Look it up.”

I typed it in and waited. Several sites popped up, some with pictures. “It’s a jet,” I said.

“Not just any jet,” he said. “It’s the Doomsday Jet. There are some very solid stories to substantiate that it was flying around on 9/11.”

I was sure that, if pressed, he would turn out to have “solid stories” to substantiate both Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster. Still, I wanted to know where he was going. “I don’t understand,” I said.

He said, “It can withstand a nuclear explosion, never has to land to refuel, and is a flying command post from which the president can command nuclear retaliation.”

I sighed. “I’m sure all countries have something like that.”

“On twenty-four-hour permanent high alert? They can scramble Nightwatch with five minutes’ notice. Right now, there are crews sleeping nearby, ready to get it in the air at a moment’s notice. It’s an airborne ark.”

“So?” I said.

Tom Barron raised his voice a little. “So it means nuclear attack is just as much a threat as it always was. Our government must believe that, otherwise they wouldn’t have that aircraft on permanent high alert.”

A chill ran through me.

He said, “Your father wasn’t crazy. I’m not crazy. These are fearful times. Do you know there are people who spend every spare minute preparing a BOL?”