The Nightworld - Jack Blaine [13]
Dad shrugs. “I don’t know how things will be, Nick. Let’s eat first, and then we’ll talk.”
We eat in front of the TV. It feels weird, sitting here acting like everything’s almost normal. Nothing is normal. But I really don’t know how else to act. I barely even know what to think, so I’m trying not to think at all.
Dad keeps switching channels like I did, but finally he stops on CNN. Anderson Cooper stands in front of a green screen with a huge caption that reads SHOULD YOU BE AFRAID OF THE DARK? After about three minutes of listening to Anderson talk with his D.C. correspondent about how the government has no comment at this time, Dad hits the mute button. He heaves a huge sigh and picks at his steak.
My phone vibrates. It’s Charlie.
We r leaving soon. My stepdad knows some guy and he thinks we’ll b safer in
That’s all there is. The display goes blank. I push the power button a couple of times, but nothing happens. “Dad.”
“Hmm?” He doesn’t look up from his steak.
“Does your phone work?” I hold up my blank display so he can see. He puts his plate on the coffee table and half stands, gets his phone from his back pocket. I can tell by his face that his display is blank too. He turns up the volume on the television, and I think we’re both relieved when Anderson Cooper’s voice resumes. We’re not so relieved when we hear what he’s saying, though.
“. . . plans to restore cell service in those areas as soon as possible, but gives no indication what may have caused the disruption. New outages are being reported as we speak. Meanwhile, authorities claim that the curfews being imposed across the nation are merely precautionary and temporary in nature.”
Dad and I just look at each other. He lets the television drone on for a few more seconds and then clicks it off.
“Okay, Nick. We need to eat and then hit it. I’m going to be getting you up at the crack of . . .” He falters. There is no dawn anymore, it seems.
“Where are we going?” I don’t want to go anywhere. I want to stay here, in the house I grew up in, and spend the summer taking Lara Hanover to pizza. Instead, because my scientist dad did whatever the stupid government asked him without even wondering if it was right, the world’s going to end or something and who knows if I’ll even get to see Lara before school starts again.
“I think we’ll head west.”
This pisses me off in a way I can’t even explain. “You think we’ll head west? You think? For the guy who caused the whole mess, you don’t seem to be too sure about anything.”
He doesn’t say anything to that. No “I didn’t cause this, so shut up about it,” no “Stop mouthing off to your father.” Nothing. He just looks tired. He finishes his steak and stands up to take his plate into the kitchen. On his way past me, he stops and puts a hand on my shoulder.
“Get to sleep soon, Nick. We’ll be leaving very early.” He waits to see if I say anything, and when I don’t, he slowly walks away. I hear him rinse off his plate and set it in the sink.
“Nick,” he calls.
“What?” I don’t care how mad I sound.
“Take the gun with you when you go upstairs.” He must have seen it lying on the counter, where I left it when he came home. I hear his footsteps on the stairs going down to the basement and then nothing.
I push my steak around with my fork, but I’m not hungry. I try the phone again a couple of times, but service doesn’t come back. Finally I trudge into the kitchen and clatter my plate into the sink without rinsing it. I start up the stairs, but I turn around on the third step and go back for the gun. Better safe than sorry.
Chapter 8
I wake out of a sound sleep like I’ve been plunged into icy water, to the sounds of splintering wood. Disoriented, I blink my eyes furiously for a minute, trying to place the noise. It sounds like someone’s kicking down the back door. Then I hear low voices, men’s voices, first from the living room, then the kitchen. Before I can react, there’s a hand over my mouth.
“Get up and get in