Chapter 23 #2
“Yeah, it’s us,” he says into his cell phone. “Okay, thanks.”
The road ends in front of a massive dark rock formation, and I squint when I see movement in it.
Huge double doors that blend perfectly with the rock are opening, light visible through the crack as the doors slowly retreat into the rock.
I breathe easier because this must be a military base. My dad has government and military connections, so it makes sense. I’m actually relieved it won’t just be me, a pilot, and a small private plane.
“Why the secrecy?” I grumble. “You could’ve just said it’s a military base.”
The space is much bigger than it looked from the outside. Terry drives through the doors and the paved road begins a gradual descent. Bright spotlights placed high in the rock above illuminate our path.
I feel the vibration of the doors rumbling closed behind us.
We drive deeper underground and enter a gaping open space the size of a military airplane hangar.
It’s brightly lit, endless rows of shelves stocked with wood crates.
There are a handful of brand-new-looking army-green vehicles, including a tank, lined up along one wall.
A few people are working on things in the space, and I breathe a deep sigh of relief when I see my mom and dad standing together, watching us approach. Dad has his arm around Mom’s waist.
Terry puts the SUV in park and I rush out. My mother smiles at me, tears streaking her cheeks.
“Oh, thank God,” she says, throwing herself at me in a hug.
“Great work, Terry,” my dad says. “You too, Roger. I won’t forget this.”
A woman and a young girl race up to Terry and he gets down on a knee, embracing the girl. They must be his wife and daughter, though I have no idea why they’re here.
“I have to go.” I pull away from Mom and meet her gaze. “Shit’s falling apart and Hannah needs me.”
Tears well in her eyes and she looks away. I furrow my brow, confused.
“I thought you guys were in Aspen.”
My dad puts a hand on my shoulder. When I look at him, alarm races through me. Dad is always levelheaded, but his expression right now is tormented.
“Don’t tell me the plane fell through,” I say, feeling sick. “I have to go.”
“You can’t, Pax,” he says softly.
“I have to, Dad. She has no other way out of there. Everything’s shut down. You said it was all taken care of.”
He sighs heavily, and the lines on his face I’ve always associated with wisdom just make him look like an exhausted mortal, not the giant I’ve always relied on.
“I tried. I promise you I tried everything in my power.” His voice breaks and tears flood his eyes. “We can’t get to her, son. I’m so sorry.”
The world around me blurs for a few seconds. I look at the space around me with fresh eyes.
“We have a lot to talk about,” my dad says.
I look at my mom. She’s quietly crying.
“Let me out,” I tell my dad. “I want out right now.”
Everyone around us has cleared out. A drill whirs in the distance. I go over to the SUV and get my backpack out, putting it on.
“Open the doors,” I say.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that,” my father responds.
Helplessness and betrayal propel me toward him. “I’m not leaving her! This is my choice, and I’m leaving.”
“This virus isn’t going away,” he says, his tone level. “A lot of people are going to die, and then there’ll be a waiting period.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? What waiting period?”
He tugs at the tie knotted at his throat, loosening it. “This is the shelter I had built in case of something like this. We’re going to be down here for several months, maybe longer.”
I shake my head, wishing I could go back to my apartment. I thought that was my nightmare, but I was wrong. This is.
“Fine, I’ll stay down here as long as you want, but I need to bring Hannah with me.”
His shoulders drop slightly. “I tried. She’s too far away, and with the way this virus is spreading ... I’m sorry.”
I get my cell phone from my pocket to text Hannah, and the nightmare digs itself deeper into my consciousness.
No service.
“I want out.” I don’t recognize the menacing voice that comes out of me. “I’m going after Hannah.”
“You can’t.”
I scoff, coming unhinged. “She thinks I’m on the way! I’m not staying in here and leaving her to die. Let me the fuck out of here!”
Dad’s tortured eyes meet mine. “I had to do this, and I hope one day you’ll—”
“Don’t do this.” My hands shake at my sides. “I’m twenty-six fucking years old. I’m not a kid you can control. I’d rather die going after Hannah than hide in here like a coward.”
A tear streams down Dad’s cheek. “I love you too much to let you do that.”
“This isn’t love.” I turn to my mom. “Don’t let him do this.”
She sniffs and wipes her cheeks. “We both made this decision. Things were happening quickly and we had to make a lot of hard choices. None of our other family—” Her voice breaks and she clears her throat. “No one else is here. We all left a lot of people behind.”
I shake my head, pacing toward the SUV and then back again. “But why? There could still be time to get them. We need to keep calm and work the problems.”
My dad looks like a man defeated. I’ve never seen such despondence in him.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” he says flatly. “I still can’t believe it.”
I pinch my brows together, my chest constricting. “What are you talking about?”
“The virus was made to create a vaccine. It was supposed to save people, not wipe them out.”
“Made? You knew about this?”
“It doesn’t even matter now.”
“The fuck it doesn’t!” I advance toward him. “If you were part of this, you have to let me out of here. Let me go get Hannah. You know she’s my everything.”
“I can’t.”
I’m shaking all over now, knowing all too well what caged lions must feel like.
“I’ll never forgive you if you don’t let me go,” I say.
“Pax.” My mom’s gaze on me sharpens with her tone. “We did everything we could.”
My throat tightens as I imagine Hannah in that room, thinking I’m on the way to her, and then never hearing from me again.
“Not everything. You could let me out.”
My father turns to walk away, his back to me as he says, “Hate me if you want. At least you’ll be alive.”