D. MacHale: Storm

Tori screamed with surprise. I might have too if I hadn’t gone into brain lock.

The plane hovered two feet above the ground, twenty yards in front of us. There was no time to jump back. It had us.

The manta ray–shaped predator seemed to be glaring at us, as if it could think. Maybe it could. Whoever was controlling it, whether it was a pilot on board or somebody sitting safely in a control center with his hand on a joystick, we were square in its sights.

“Who are you?” Tori shouted. “Show yourself, coward!”

It was a defiant yet futile demand…

…that got a response. Two small panels opened on the front edge of each wing. They were panels I feared were retracting to uncover its deadly cannons.

Tori stood tall but reached out and grabbed my hand.

I tensed up.

The Pemberwick Run had finally come to an end.

The musical sound of the jet’s engines echoed off the brick walls of the narrow street… and were drowned out by the sound of a car’s engine and the squeal of tires on pavement. A second later, a silver SUV came screaming out of the side street next to the hovering plane and crashed into it.

The violent impact brought me back to my senses. I pulled Tori out of the street and into a recessed doorway for protection.

Whoever was in control of the dark plane never saw the car coming. The craft actually flipped up onto its side and careened into the building, slamming its top into the wall, smashing windows and pulverizing brick. The plane seemed incredibly light, not only because it was so easily tossed but because its skin crumbled on impact.

The SUV continued forward, pinning the craft against the wall. The force of the impact inflated both airbags, though there was relatively little damage to the car. The driver’s door opened and Kent tumbled out, pulling Olivia with him. They hit the pavement, fell, then scrambled to their feet and ran to us.

A sound came from the damaged plane that sounded like an engine revving up. It wasn’t the familiar musical sound, but rather a steadily growing whine that made it seem as though power was building up inside the craft. Something was about to happen, and it wasn’t going to be good.

“Run!” I shouted.

Kent and Olivia were dazed but managed to stay on their feet and stumble toward us. I jumped out from the doorway and grabbed Olivia, who was in tears. I pulled her into the doorway as Kent jumped in right behind.

Tori stood peering back around the corner, her eyes focused on the plane.

“What’s happening?” she asked.

As if in answer, the plane was suddenly engulfed by a bright light that seemed to grow from within. Seconds later, it exploded.

“Whoa!” I screamed as we all pinned ourselves into the doorway for protection. A powerful fireball erupted and flashed past us. The heat was so intense I feared that our clothes would catch fire. The event lasted for only a few brief, devastating seconds. The sound of the explosion echoed through the streets of the Old Port and was soon gone.

We all looked to one another, stunned.

“Anybody hurt?” I asked.

Nobody replied. I took that as a no.

I cautiously peered around the corner to see that there was nothing left of the predator plane but the scorched brick wall it had crashed into.

The hunter had become the victim. It had incinerated.

“Did the fuel tank explode?” Tori asked, shaken.

“I guess,” I replied. “But what kind of fuel would do that? I mean, the plane was obliterated.”

Kent crawled to the edge of the doorway and peered back to see his handiwork.

“Woohoo!” he screamed in victory. “I so nailed that bastard! Did you see? We spotted you running into the street, so I drove another block to head you off and saw the plane. There wasn’t time to think, so we just went for it!”

Kent was so charged up I thought he might have taken a dose of the Ruby, but that was impossible. It was adrenaline talking.

Tori kneeled down next to a shaken Olivia.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“No,” Olivia replied. “I’m totally out of my mind.”

“What do you mean?”

“I jammed my foot down on the gas over Kent’s,” she said, stunned, as if she couldn’t believe it herself. “I don’t know what made me do it. I could have killed us.”

“So ramming the plane was your idea?” I asked.

“Hey, I didn’t fight it,” Kent announced, trying to salvage some credit. “I would have done the same thing.”

Tori gave me a quick look and rolled her eyes.

“Whatever,” I said. “You both saved our lives.”

“Remember that, Rook,” Kent said. “You owe me.”

“We can’t stay here,” Tori said. “This is bound to bring other planes.”

“We still need a car,” I pointed out.

“No problem,” Kent proclaimed cockily. “There’s a parking lot full of them, all with keys. They must belong to tourists.”

“ Used to belong to tourists,” Tori corrected.

The reality of that statement hit hard. We were in a city of the dead. The United States Air Force had wiped it out. And as horrifying as that was, we had no way of knowing the full extent of the damage. Was Portland the only city hit? Or would we find more devastation elsewhere? With all forms of communication wiped out, there was only one way for us to find out.

We had to travel.

Home.

It’s a simple little word that means so much.

It’s not just a place, it’s a concept. Home is safety. It’s where you are surrounded by loved ones who watch out for you. It’s the one place where you will always be welcomed, no matter what craziness may be going on around you. I think for most people it’s the single most important place in the world.

I know that’s true because I no longer have one.

Neither do Tori, Kent, and Olivia. We may have left our homes behind when we escaped from Pemberwick Island, but we had lost them long before that. We just didn’t know it at the time.

I’m not exactly sure when our homes started to slip away. Maybe it began when people on Pemberwick Island suddenly started dying. The deaths rocked the small community and were unexplainable, until we were invaded and occupied by a branch of the United States Navy called SYLO. The president of the United States himself announced that a virus had broken out and quarantined the island for our protection and that of the people on the mainland. It was a lie. The real reason people died was because of a substance called the Ruby that was being distributed by a mysterious stranger named Ken Feit. The Ruby gave people incredible strength and energy. I can say that with authority because I tried it. It was magical… unless you took too much. The human body wasn’t built to perform at such a high level. It was absolutely amazing—and ultimately deadly.

Was that when our home started slipping away?

Or was it when the SYLO occupiers and their leader, Captain Granger, started pulling people off the street and throwing them into prison? Or when SYLO began killing people for attempting to escape? Maybe it was before that, when the black Air Force planes started secretly delivering the Ruby to Pemberwick. What was the point of that? If they wanted to hurt us, why didn’t they just vaporize us one night like they did the people of Portland? Were we being used as guinea pigs for some hideous experiment?

I could say that I first felt my home slipping away when Quinn Carr was killed. He was such a huge part of my life until… he wasn’t. Or maybe I know the exact moment when I realized I no longer had a home. It was when I heard that my mother and father were working with the Navy. With SYLO. They knew SYLO was coming long before we set foot on the island when I was nine years old. They had been keeping the truth from me for a very long time.