Page 2 of Unrest
Agolden hue of sunrise turned night into dawn. I sat on a small boulder, staring at the sliver of sun through trees of the Nevada parkland, the same spot where I’d been sitting silently in the dark for two hours in the cold. I couldn’t take Remy’s whimpering and soul-crushing cries each time she fell back asleep in the tent, venturing into nightmares of what she’d seen the night before. What we’d all seen. I might never sleep again.
Mom. Dad. Abuela.
I fought back another wave of debilitating grief that made my bones feel like liquid—like I’d never have the ability to stand again.Have to be strong. Have to be strong.I rocked back and forth with my eyes shut tight. I couldn’t afford to give in to the loss. If I did, it would consume me whole and devour my will to live. I took a deep breath in and let it out slowly.
We’d been fired up to leave the nature preserve last night and head north to the base in Utah after hearing the Morse code message, supposedly from other military personnel in hiding, like us. But we decided to wait until morning since we needed more light to plan our trip on the map. Plus, headlights in the night would be too easy to spot, and we were all worthless last night, running on adrenaline and vengeance, one step away from crashing. I never did crash or sleep a wink, even though my adrenaline was long gone.
The soft sunrise was too pretty—too majestic—for the way I felt inside. Raw. Like my heart had been grated. During the night, I’d begun to believe the sun would never rise again, and now that it was I felt as if the Earth were mocking what we’d been through, reminding me just how miniscule and unremarkable we were. A new day was happening despite what we’d lost. The world wasn’t stopping to mourn. It felt wrong.
We’d been so close to the camp yesterday where the Disaster Relief Initiative, the DRI personnel, had taken my parents, my grandmother, Remy’s parents, and Rylen’s wife Livia. We watched in confusion as those DRI bastards fled. Then we’d watched in disbelief as Air Force jets dropped a bomb on that camp, obliterating our family and the people from our town.Oh, God.
I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth and squeezed my eyes shut. Even while the world fell apart around us, I never imagined anything would happen to my parents. I never let myself believe it was possible, even after watching my Grandpa Tate shot and killed by a Disaster Relief Personnel—fucking Derps. Who was I without my parents? I was the daughter of an Army man and a Mexican dancer. A Green Machine and a Señorita. A small bubble of laughter worked its way through a sob in my throat when I thought about my parents’ silly banter with each other. Their relentless love and devotion to me and my older brother, Tater.
The sound of a tent’s zipper wrenched through the morning solitude and I quickly wiped my eyes. I looked over and saw Rylen crouching as he pushed through the opening. The golden hue of sun made his blond hair and the scruff on his face stand out. His eyes met mine and I had to swallow hard at the sight of pain in his expression. I’d already cried so much last night.
Seeing those solemn gray eyes brought back a flood of memories: young, scrawny Rylen Fite, loved and cared for by my parents like he was their own son. And his eyes reflected his remembrance too, as if he felt their absence as prominently as I did. But he’d lost a wife, as well. Maybe she hadn’t been his wife in every technical sense of the word, but he’d been trying to make it right. Every bit of his loss was reflected in the heavy way he sat on the rock beside me and rubbed his face before staring out at the sunrise.
“Are they still sleeping?” I whispered.
“Tater’s awake. Just laying there. Remy’s asleep.”
I nodded. We sat, sharing a heavy silence until a car door shut in the distance, signaling that some of the guys sleeping in the vehicles were awake. Devon and Josh had slept in the minivan. Tent flaps began to open. Mark, Matt, Texas Harry, and Sean slowly made their way out, stretching, followed shortly by Tater and a blanket-wrapped Remy. All were respectfully quiet as we gathered around the cold fire pit. Remy squeezed onto the rock with me and put her head on my shoulder. She shivered.
“We leave this morning for Utah,” Texas Harry said. “But I suggest we only take two cars. We can siphon the gas from the third and split it between the other two. Otherwise we’ll run out pretty damn fast.”
My heart began to accelerate. Leave one of the cars behind? But the smallest vehicle was . . .
“We’ll leave the sedan,” Tater agreed.
“No!” The word burst out of me and everyone turned. In a scratchy whisper I said, “That’s Mom’s car.” It was all we had left of her. She used to pick me up from softball and volleyball in that car. She taught me how to drive in it. The thought of abandoning it made panic rise in my chest.
“Amber,” Tater said softy, his eyes tired. “We can try to come back for it someday.”
“Yeah right!” The words were choked. I knew I was being stupid and sentimental. The car was just an object, a material possession, but it felt like it was a piece of her. Everyone stared at me, and I couldn’t take their pity. I stood abruptly and crossed my arms, walking fast down the path toward the cars.Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.
When I got to mom’s sedan, I spread my hands on the cool metal of the trunk and gasped for air. Mom’s hugs, her support, her unconditional love, gone forever. In my adult years she’d become so much more than my mother. She was a friend. This was unfair. I wanted her back. If only we’d raided the camp sooner. God, I was going to hyperventilate.
I sucked in a heaving breath when I felt hands on my shoulders, then arms wrapping around my upper body. His lighter skin and slightly taller build told me it was Rylen, not my brother. I reached up and grasped his forearms, taking his comfort.
“She’s in here, Pepper,” he whispered into the top of my hair and gently tapped my heart. “They all are. We’ll take them with us wherever we go.”
I leaned my head back against his chest and my body shook with leftover convulsions from last night’s crying fits. He held me tighter until my breathing was even.
“Hey,” came a whisper from behind us. Rylen let me go and we turned to Remy. Her long, blonde waves were a mess, framing a pretty, round face, eyes sunken from crying. She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Her voice was weak. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“That’s all right,” Rylen said. “I’ll let you two talk.”
He left us, and Remy came to my side. We both leaned against Mom’s car. Remy’s hand slipped out from under the blanket and she ran a hand over the bumper.
“I don’t have anything of my parents’. I wish I did. So I understand.” She swallowed hard.
“We can’t take it,” I whispered. As much as I wanted to, I wasn’t going to fight them on this. It would be dumb not to conserve gas. “Will you help me unpack it?”
She nodded and we set to work. Most of our camping stuff had been packed in the back of Dad’s SUV. Food stores and other essentials were in Mom’s trunk. Grandpa and Dad had packed it with efficiency, but we were down to only days’ worth of edibles now. We pulled out a box with canned potatoes, chicken noodle soup, and beef stew. One box of square salted crackers sat with a half-eaten box of grahams and the last of the instant latte mix. Three-fourths of a case of water bottles was all we had left.
“Have we really eaten that much?” Remy asked with fear in her voice.
“Yeah.” The problem was, we’d always assumed we’d be able to find more food, or that things would get better any day. Now we knew differently. Wehadto ration. We could hunt and fish, but lack of water was most frightening. I didn’t trust natural water sources after so many of them had been contaminated.
