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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living, dead or undead, is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.
DEVASTATION ERUPTS
Copyright © 2020 A. E. Faulkner
AuthorAEFaulkner.com
All rights reserved, except for brief quotations in critical articles
or reviews. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the author.
Cover design by Michelle Preast
Indie Book Cover Design / Michelle-Preast.com
Interior layout by Vanessa Anderson
at NightOwlFreelance.com
Manufactured in the United States of America
Paperback ISBN-13: 978-1-949193-03-9
For Jasmine
Wherever you go, chaos ensues. In the instant we met, you chose us. We love you beyond measure and hope to have many more years together. ♥
“This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil.” —John 3:19
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Author Note
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Follow Her Work
Further Reading
Continued
Chapter 1
Time and surroundings fade to the far reaches as Riley and I clutch each other, sobbing. Untangling trembling arms and swiping away trails of happy tears, we slowly separate. My limbs tingle with pinpricks after fiercely clinging to my sister, as if she were the last life jacket on the Titanic.
Sergeant Bowen impatiently thrusts a box of tissues at us.
With awkward, nervous giggles, we both sop up spilled tears and runny noses. Riley cringes when she dabs a tissue over the scar that now brands her right cheek.
Pointing at it, I have to ask. “What happened?” Before she can answer, Bowen steps toward us. “So I just need to confirm, you two know each other?” With shaky emotions balancing on a tightrope of instability, we both burst into laughter. Narrowing his eyes, he states, “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I need verbal confirmation from both of you.”
Raising my right hand to my temple, I salute him and give a stern, “Yes, sir!” Riley chuckles and answers with a simple, “Yes, this is my sister.” We’re both still running on the natural high, combined with the intense relief, of accomplishing what seemed impossible.
Clapping his hands together, he looks back and forth between us as he speaks. “First thing’s first. You will have time to catch up with each other. But I have other matters to attend to, so I’m going to get you squared away for the time being and then we’ll meet again tomorrow to determine our next course of action.”
He takes a seat at the small desk I hadn’t even noticed in a corner of the room. Riley follows my lead when I grab a chair and drag it to the other side of the desk. I know how this works. He fires up the computer and starts chicken-pecking the keys to pull up our files or something.
Although it’s putting a damper on our reunion, I know he’s got a lot going on. And he’s right, now Riley and I have all the time in the world to be together.
We sit quietly, my foot tapping the floor nervously and Riley sitting on her hands. Since when does she do that? Finally, when Bowen finishes typing on the keyboard, he focuses on us.
“I’m going to ask you a few questions, Riley. And I would like the answers to only come from you,” he shoots a pointed look my way. I shake my head slightly because I don’t know what he’s expecting. Of course, I’m not going to jump in and answer for her.
“Okay,” she says softly.
“Who were you with when you arrived at the base?” Oooh, right for the throat. Great question!
She looks to me, but I stay silent. She releases a deep sigh and answers him.
“I came with two brothers: Dan and Jim Masters. Dan was injured and they brought him inside by stretcher.” She glances at me, probably expecting my eyebrows to be in their current position: halfway up my forehead, framing wide eyes. What happened to Dan? I know I can’t ask about it right now, but I make a mental note to get all the details as soon as we’re done here.
Bowen nods and types her answer on the computer. Keeping his eyes on the screen, he asks, “And what is their relation to you?” She reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze.
“None. They’re just two guys that we knew from our family’s summer vacations. They aren’t related to us in any way.” Her tone is strong and confident. I like it!
Narrowing his eyes, Bowen asks, “What is your last name, Riley?” Rolling her eyes, she crosses her arms.
“It’s Whelan. Jim told the guy who entered our info here it was Masters and that we were married. I didn’t correct him because he threatened me—and said he’d hurt Quinn—if I told the truth.”
It takes about two seconds for her words to register in my brain. “I knew it!” I snarl through gritted teeth. Her sorrowful eyes force the wave of emotions within me to crest. Energy flows to my feet and they propel me out of my chair. I glance at the door, preparing to lunge. When I’m within a foot of the handle, a wall of muscle slides before it, blocking my access.
“Ms. Whelan, we do not tolerate violence on this base,” Sergeant Bowen reprimands. “If you want this meeting to continue, you will return to your seat.” Releasing a frustrated breath, I hold his gaze and sharply no
d.
Keeping his eyes on me, Bowen waits until I sit down before he returns to his chair. For a middle-aged guy, he’s faster than I would have thought.
“So you were brought here against your will?” He flawlessly slides right back into interview mode.
“Yes!” Riley answers assertively, punctuating it with a nod. She diligently answers each question he throws her way. He continues typing for a few minutes after she finishes speaking. He’s slow on a keyboard, but I guess I should just be glad he isn’t pen-and-papering it again like when he interviewed me. When his interrogation ends, there’s only one thing left to do.
“Alright then,” Bowen says, eyeing us both. “It’s time that I get Mr. Masters’ side of the story.”
Chapter 2
Grabbing the walkie-talkie clipped to his waist, Bowen instructs a soldier to retrieve Jim and escort him to a nearby room. After giving the command, he assures us that Jim will not be joining us. Riley and I will wait here while the sergeant talks to him and sorts out the next steps.
Sitting in nervous silence, questions bounce around in my mind. I can’t wait to talk to Riley alone. What happened to her cheek? Did Jim do that? If I get my hands on him…
Focused on the hands she’s twisting in her lap, Riley gives me a side-eye glance. Maybe she’s worried about seeing Jim again now that she’s been able to tell the truth. I reach over and brush her arm, a silent signal that I’m here for and with her. Although it certainly doesn’t hurt knowing that we’re surrounded by soldiers with weapons. I trust in their ability to keep us safe.
We both jump when the walkie-talkie beeps and the soldier’s voice fills the small room. “Sir,” he hesitates. “James Masters is gone.”
Bowens’ face reddens as he attempts to remain composed. “Keep an eye out for him. I’ll send a silent alert to personnel throughout the base. I don’t want word of this getting out to civilians. He’s not a confirmed threat and there’s no reason to cause chaos.”
“Yes, sir!”
“And Private.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Alert the hospital. James’ brother, Daniel Masters, is a patient there. I want you to verify that he is in his room and ask the staff there to alert me if James decides to pay his brother a visit. After you’ve searched the immediate area, take a walk over to the hospital. Keep your eyes open for him along the way and conduct your own search of the facility.”
“Yes, sir!” With that, the conversation is over. The sergeant’s hazel eyes betray his fatigue.
“Why did you say he isn’t a threat? He kidnapped someone and lied about her identity. I’d call that a threat.” I know this guy’s trying to help us, but I can’t hold back.
Heaving out a sigh, the sergeant turns to Riley. “Did James Masters cause you any harm or threaten you while you were with him?”
Wrapping her arms around her torso, she answers quietly. “Not really directly…he just, sort of…implied that he would hurt Quinn if he saw her again.” Her brown eyes meet mine, although hers are clouded with guilt. None of what happened was her fault. Jim should feel guilty, but I’m sure he doesn’t.
Rubbing his forehead, Bowen asks, “Based on the time you spent with him, do you feel that he poses a danger to anyone other than you or your sister?”
“No, I really don’t think he would bother with anyone else unless they got in his way,” she answers.
“Then we will proceed with standard protocol. Ladies, I will assign a soldier to secure a room for you and ensure that you are guarded until Mr. Masters is found.” Peeking at his watch, Bowen pinches the bridge of his nose.
“We’re not done here, but I have to be somewhere.” That’s right, before we came to this building, someone called him on the radio and said there was a meeting about Yellowstone or Yosemite. Something out west.
Without pause for a reply, he raises the walkie-talkie to his mouth again and asks the voice on the other end to come and collect us. A few minutes later, another camouflaged solider arrives and Bowen explains that we need a room and that it must be secured with a guard overnight.
Before his sudden exit, he turns to us. “We’ll speak again in the morning. Until then, do not go anywhere on the base without an escort. There will be one stationed outside of your room. It’s just a precaution until we can account for Mr. Masters’ whereabouts.”
He doesn’t wait for a response. He nods at the soldier and ducks out the door.
Private Harris, the lucky soldier selected to babysit us, escorts us back to the intake trailer where Bowen initially sat our group down to talk. I almost forgot that I left Riley’s bag, along with mine, there. I can’t wait for her to see it. After everything she’s been through, whatever it was, a small piece of the past should put a smile on her face, however brief.
As we trek along the pathways and road, my eyes volley from side to side. I don’t like not knowing where Jim is. But overall, I feel pretty safe. I’m assuming all of these soldiers have guns or some sort of weapon that could protect us if Jim tried anything.
Playfully bumping into Riley’s shoulder, I marvel at the reality that she’s really here with me. Warmth swells in my chest. I found her, I really found her.
As we shuffle toward our destination, I whisper, “Where do you think Jim went? Do you think he’s gone?” I feel like we can’t speak freely in front of Harris. I don’t really know if we’re allowed to talk to him, but I doubt he knows many details about our situation.
“I’m not sure he’d leave with Dan still here,” she says, her worried eyes watching for my reaction.
I return her look with one that says, “Spill it.”
Glancing at our escort, she quietly elaborates. “Dan was in pretty bad shape when we got here. I think he fell asleep, he was keeping watch for us outside, and all of a sudden, he was screaming, and he had hundreds of fire ants crawling all over him. They were biting him or stinging him, or whatever they do.”
She looks to the ground. “It was awful. I didn’t know what to do to help him. Jim tried brushing them off, but it was too late. His skin was covered in nasty red welts and he was just…in so much pain.”
Before I can respond, we arrive at the intake center. Private Harris directs us to seats while he takes one behind a desk and starts typing away. His fingers fly over the keys while I retrieve our bags. He stops typing for moment, watching my movement.
“I left these here when I first came in.” When I hold them up, Riley exhales a loud gasp and rushes toward me. “My bag! Quinn, you kept my bag!” She snatches it from my hands and hugs it to her chest. That must be all the proof Harris needs. He returns his attention to the computer.
“Thank you so much. I thought I’d never see it again.” She smiles from ear-to-ear.
“I knew I’d find you; I just didn’t know how long it would take.” No need to tell her how much the Earth wanted to swallow that bag in the parking lot of Ton O’ Fun.
“Is this a tear?” she asks, running her finger along the slightly split bottom seam. Okay, maybe I will enlighten her on the Herculean effort it took to bring that stupid purple backpack all this way.
Chapter 3
Within a few minutes, Harris finds space for us in one of the housing units. He explains that it’s on the opposite side of the base, about as far away from Riley’s previous room as possible. When the soldier asks if she has any personal items to retrieve from the room she shared with Jim, Riley adamantly shakes her head. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her casually cradle the backpack a little closer.
Staying close to our guard, we cross the base, passing other civilians and soldiers going about their business. We blend in with the others, no one really paying us any attention. I notice Harris’ eyes sweep back and forth, in a state of perpetual alertness. It’s comforting to think he is scanning for potential threats. Or one threat in particular.
When we reach the building, Harris leads us to the appropriate hallway. Stopping before our designated door, he unlocks th
e non-descript room and tells us to take our time getting settled. After presenting Riley with the room key, he assures us he will wait outside the door. We should alert him when we’re ready to grab some dinner at the mess hall.
Enclosed in the safety of what feels like a drab dormitory, we drop our bags on one bed and plop down together on the other one. Staring up at the smooth white ceiling, we share details of our separate journeys. Focusing on the most important points, I tell her how we found Chris at Aunt Grace’s trailer and how he tagged along with us.
She exhales a surprised sigh and narrows her eyes. “I’m surprised you were on board with that,” she says. Rolling my eyes in response, I elaborate. “Okay, Aidan kind of made a big deal about not leaving the kid behind. I didn’t necessarily agree it was the best idea, but…”
She finishes for me, “But those baby blues talked you into it!” She giggles and waves her hand in a circle. “Okay, continue.”
We both fix our attention on the ceiling as I explain the lower points of the trip. I breeze over our little excursion to Ton O’ Fun, where we got a brief break from the danger. Well, until a sinkhole ate our car.
I explain that Wes never made it to the base. Although my eyes threaten to spill tears, I manage to keep a steady voice. She audibly gasps when I describe our run-in with a gun-wielding homeowner who discovered us searching his house for supplies. Her hand flies to her mouth when I relay that Jasmine was shot in the shoulder when she jumped in front of Chris to protect him.
Riley listens in silence. Her sadness mirrors mine, but she doesn’t know these people like I do. Or did. I hope to see them again.
When I pause, tired of hearing my own voice, Riley offers her story.
Dan and Jim figured out we stole their bikes. Apparently, they knew about Aidan and Jeff coming around the trailer park, looking for supplies. The guys were keeping a close eye on Aidan and Jeff and even followed them “home” one night.
So, when we went missing, along with the bikes, Dan and Jim didn’t really have any other leads. When they showed up at the campground Aidan and his friends were using as a temporary home, it was a jackpot: the bikes, Riley and I; it was all there.