Vestige (10 page)

“No.... Get off! Get off!” she screamed.

“Clarke, wake up. It’s me, Micah.”

Clarke opened her eyes and looked at him. Her screams settled to whimpers.

“Clarke, it’s okay. You’re okay. You were having a nightmare,” Micah said. He could tell that she was coming around.

“Oh, thank God, Micah...it’s you. You came back.” She threw her arms around his neck and held him as tight as she could. “Thank you, thank you...”

Micah put his arms around her trembling body. “It’s okay Clarke. I promise I won’t leave again,” Micah whispered to her. He sat on the edge of the bed until she fell back to sleep, and then he sprawled out in the corner chair and fell asleep himself.

*****

The next morning, when Micah awoke, he sat up, rubbed his eyes, and looked around the room. “Oh…yeah…right. Clarke,” he mumbled. Micah looked towards the bed only to find it empty.

He stood and stretched his stiff neck. As he looked around her room, Micah shook his head. Clarke didn’t seem like the kind of girl who liked pink or collected dolls. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought that he spent the night in a little girl’s room.

Micah walked towards the desk. A doll with long, brown hair lay face down on the desktop, a tiny brush next to it. His eyes wandered upward towards the shelf. There sat several more dolls and at least ten trophies. He picked up one of the trophies and read the placard.

2006 LaGrange Park District

Taekwondo Tournament

First Place

He needed to find the bathroom, so he replaced the trophy and walked out into the hallway. First, he tried the door across from Clarke’s room—another bedroom. Curious, he went in, but after entering, the smell overpowered him. He put his hand over his nose and turned around. On his way out, he noticed a walker in the corner.

He didn’t know a thing about Clarke or her family. All he knew was that her parents were gone. She seemed out of place in this house. She was young, pretty...alive. The house was old, decrepit...dead. He had a ton of questions for her.

As Micah walked down the stairs, he could hear Clarke in the kitchen. The smell of coffee filled the first floor. Before he walked in, he paused. Maybe Clarke was embarrassed that Micah had seen her talking in her sleep. Was she going to act all weird now? Would things be awkward again? Micah braced himself and walked in.

“Hey Clarke, how’d you sleep?’

“I made coffee. Do you want a cup?”

“I thought you were out.” Phew, thank God, she didn’t want to talk about last night.

“I went next door to Mrs. Fahey’s and borrowed some.”

“They’re okay? Did you tell them about the Waters?”

“Well...no.... They weren’t there. It looks like they’re missing too. But Mrs. Fahey would have lent me coffee if I had asked her for some. It’s not like I stole it or anything.”

“In that case, I’ll have a cup.”

Clarke poured Micah some coffee.

“So…what’s with the walker? I had to take a leak, so I went looking for a bathroom and found the room with the medical stuff,” Micah said.

“Gross, Micah. Too much information.” She set the sugar bowl and a spoon in front of him. “Sorry, no milk.”

“That’s okay.” Micah scooped a giant-sized spoonful of sugar into his cup. “What’s the deal with this house anyway? One room looks like it belongs in a nursing home, and the other looks like it belongs to a five-year-old. I don’t see where you fit in.”

Clarke sighed and looked at Micah. “I guess I owe you an explanation. My dad has…had MS. That’s why his room is the way it is.”

“Oh…. What about your mom?” Micah stirred his coffee.

Clarke turned away before she answered. “She doesn’t live here.”

“Where does she live then?”

“It doesn’t matter, does it? That’s enough questions.”

“I’m just trying to get to know you, Clarke. That’s all. Come on and turn around, so I can see you.”

Clarke made a growling sound and turned towards Micah. “Fine. When my dad was diagnosed, she left. I was fourteen.”

Her eyes were hard and shallow. There’s that dangerous look again. “Do you take care of your dad by yourself?”

“Not all the time. Mary, our home-health aide, takes care of him when I’m not here. But...I haven’t seen her in a couple of days.” Clarke looked down at her hands. “I think she’s missing too.” When she looked back at Micah, her eyes had softened. She almost looked as if she was about to cry.

Maybe he pushed her too hard. Time to change the subject. “That sucks. How’s the coffee?” Micah took a sip and made a face. He added another scoop of sugar.

“Are you hungry?” asked Clarke. “I can make pancakes.”

“Are you better at making pancakes than you are at making coffee?”

“Fine...you can starve for all I care,” joked Clarke.

“I’m just kidding. I’d love some pancakes. Maybe we should check the TV. Jess said something about the president giving a speech.”

“What else did Jess say?” Clarke was glad that he had brought Jess up. She was dying to find out what had happened between the two of them last night but didn’t want Micah to think she was jealous.

“I guess she was inside the village hall yesterday with her parents when all that happened with the mob. They were at some meeting. That’s how she heard about the president. She snuck out the back when the priest and the cop were attacked.”

“Is that it?”

“Yeah, I guess. Oh...and we broke up.” Micah looked directly at Clarke, hoping for a reaction.

“That’s too bad.” Clarke turned away from Micah so that he wouldn’t see her giant smile.

While Clarke mixed the pancake batter, Micah struggled to get a picture on the TV screen. He played around with the antennas for several minutes when, finally, the president’s face came into focus. At the bottom of the screen, a message read “Pre-Recorded.”

...As of now, we can only estimate the number of missing persons. We believe that one-quarter to one-third of the US adult population is gone. Of course, that figure rises when we add in the number of missing children. This estimate holds true for other countries around the world as well. Therefore, I have declared a Federal State of Emergency.

Our nation has been forced to adopt a policy of isolation. Tensions have increased between nations all over the globe as neighboring countries blame one another for the disappearances of their citizens. All international trade has ceased and the global financial markets have collapsed. As a result, we have secured our international borders. We cannot risk an armed conflict with our neighbors.

To ensure this nations security, the federal government has seized control of all broadcasting networks, radio, and television. We are doing our best to gain control over the internet. We do not want rumors and panic to spread because of irresponsible reporting and out-of-control, misinformed blogging. We will make sure that you have the most accurate information available by issuing regular updates via radio and television. Of course, these actions are temporary.

Some professions have been devastated by their losses. We’ve checked in with hospitals nationwide, and we know that almost all the nation’s nurses are gone along with many of our doctors. But the sick are also gone. Still, hospitals across the nation have been forced to close their doors.

Our first responders have been among the hardest hit. Police and Fire stations stand empty. In the absence of these necessary members of our society, Congress and I have unanimously agreed to enact Martial Law. In addition, I’m sighting the John Warner Defense Authorization Act of 2007, which allows the president to declare a public emergency and seize control of the state-based National Guard. As a result of the wide-spread crime and lootings occurring over the last twenty-four hours, all military personnel have been given the order “shoot to kill” when extreme force is necessary.

The federal government is in the process of confiscating the remaining food and medical supplies. After all items have been catalogued, the public will receive rations. We want to make sure that all US citizens have food, and any life-saving medicines that they might need.

Power plants across the nation have been able to stay up and running. When necessary, they will coordinate rolling blackouts. People living in rural areas may see more blackouts than those living in more populated areas. Water filtration plants are also running.

I do have some more good news. Although we are all uncertain about the future, you need to know that your government is fully staffed and open for business. We will continue to work hard for you. We have held and are continuing to hold extensive meetings to solve the problems facing our nation and have reached a short-term solution.

In order for us to provide for all the citizens of the United States, we will be conducting a census. All persons on US soil are required to take part. Not only will a census help us see who is here, but it will also help us weed out any illegal immigrants and send them home.

Starting tomorrow, all citizens will be required to report to a designated Identification Center where you will present any identification you might have, such as a driver’s license, passport, or social security card. You will then be given a unique identification number or tag. This tag will be permanently applied to your right hand, so it is visible to all. Tagging is mandatory. Without a tag, you will not be eligible for food rations or medical treatment.

You will have two weeks to comply with the Tagging Mandate. Once the two-week probation period is up, those without a tag will be arrested. We ask for...

“What does that mean?” Clarke asked. “Tagging...rations…. He didn’t say anything about why all those people vanished or how they plan to get them back.”

“I’m not surprised,” Micah muttered under his breath. This situation was sounding more and more like one of his mother’s drills.

“Are you getting tagged?” Clarke asked. “I don’t want to get arrested.”

“I don’t want to get arrested either.” His mother was always suspicious of the government. She refused to participate in the last census, and she never voted. She said the process was fixed anyway—just a way to keep track of people. If she were here, would she get tagged?

“I get why they want to do a census but a permanent tag? I don’t know,” said Clarke.

“I agree.” His mother didn’t use credit cards or discount cards. She went to great lengths to stay off the grid. Come to think of it, she didn’t even have a driver’s license. Huh, was that why she didn’t let him take driver’s ed?

“We won’t need rations. We have enough supplies. Right?” asked Clarke.

“Right.” His mother wouldn’t get tagged, and he needed to stay off the grid too.

“Maybe we should wait to decide. We have two weeks,” said Clarke.

“No, Clarke. We can’t get tagged. Something’s not right with all of this. We need to stay hidden. We can’t let anyone know who we are, or where we live.”

“Micah, you’re scaring me. What do you think is going on?”

“I’m not sure, but I have a bad feeling about all of this.”

As soon as the President’s speech ended, it began again. Micah turned off the TV. Clarke finished making the pancakes. As the two picked at their breakfast, the weight of this new reality set in.

Chapter Eleven

Father Thomas may not have been a good Catholic or a good priest, but he was a good citizen. He voted in every election, he never had a parking ticket, and he always paid his taxes. So when he learned of the Tagging Mandate, he planned to be one of the first to comply.

That morning, Thomas dressed in street clothes instead of his collar. With so many people thinking this was the beginning of the end, he didn’t want to draw attention to himself. If one more person asked him what he thought, or how they could be saved, he would lose it. How was he supposed to know when or how the world would end?

Since, the designated Identification Center turned out to be the village hall, Thomas walked the six blocks from the rectory. When he arrived, he was surprised to see the large turnout. Village officials must have been expecting a crowd because they set up temporary railings. The front lawn reminded him of the zigzag lines at Six Flags.

In front of the fountain, a small stage had been set up. Two soldiers stood at either end of the stage. They looked as if they were ready for combat, wearing helmets and carrying machine guns. A couple manned military vehicles equipped with automatic weapons sat at the curb.

After what had happened to Father Vincent, Thomas was comforted by the level of security. But to be on the safe side, he stood towards the front, next to the stage. That way, he’d be close to an armed soldier if there happened to be any trouble.

As the minutes passed, the crowd grew. It wasn’t long before Thomas noticed the homeless man from church. As the man weaved through the sea of people, he kept his head down and mumbled to himself.

When the soldier standing closest to Thomas spotted the homeless man, he put his hand up to his earpiece. “We may have a situation. I think I’ve spotted the suspect. He’s north of the fountain about ten feet away from my position. I need confirmation.” The soldier paused. “Affirmative. Suspect confirmed. How should I proceed?”

The soldier walked over to his counterpart. “I’ve spotted the suspect, two o’clock. They don’t want us to do anything with all these people present. For now, they just want us to keep an eye on him. If he causes any disruptions, we’ll take him into custody, and if he leaves the premises, you need to tail him. Once you’re clear of the crowd, you should grab him.”

Thomas stared at the ground, struggling to hear every word. Were they talking about the homeless man? He wasn’t sure. What could the military possibly suspect him of doing?