The Butterfly Box_A SASS Anthology Read online

  How had I gotten roped into this? I didn’t even want to come. Why couldn’t I be more like Mitch? Mitch would’ve packed a duffle and hitched a ride to the first big city. I could picture him getting a job on the docks, an apartment, and living out his life in hiding, never looking back. Not me, though. I was a rule follower.

  “From the way your legs are bouncing, I’m guessing you’re freaking out about as much as I am.”

  I saw her head nod in my peripheral vision. “I’ll be happy when we get away from the coast and back in the forest.” She held up the GPS her dad gave her. “It’s not far till we cut back east.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Six.”

  “My alarm would’ve just gone off for football practice.”

  She bobbed her head again. I wondered if she didn’t like talking, or if she just didn’t want to talk to me. Even with the roar of the engine, it was too quiet. I reached for the radio and realized the space was empty.

  “You can get music on that thing, right?” I pointed at the GPS.

  “I don’t know. I don’t think we should.”

  “You’re probably right.” I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel. “How long have we been driving?”

  “Fifteen minutes.”

  “Man, this is going to a long day.” She didn’t respond, so I was left with silence again. “So, do you know why we need to disappear?”

  “Not really.”

  “You don’t talk much, do you?”

  She faced me for the first time. “You talk a lot, don’t you?”

  “Come on. We’re stuck in this together.”

  Her shoulders raised, and she grabbed her hair pulled out the tie and repositioned it into a ponytail. “Sorry, I’m just on edge.”

  “You should try driving.”

  “You’re right. So, tell me about football. You’re a quarterback, right? How many runs have you scored?”

  I laughed and glanced over at her. “Runs? You said you went to a game, right?” Large brown eyes bore into me. “Sorry.” I focused on the road. At least it gave me something to talk to her about.

  After I’d finished explaining football, her watch beeped and she rolled her wrist over. “Fifteen minutes.” She clicked on the walkie-talkie to communicate with her mom in the back. “Fifteen minutes,” she repeated.

  At the five-minute mark, the GPS buzzed. “Five minutes to your stop. Find as much cover as you can,” the voice said.

  “Good thing we have trees.” I slowed the truck, and we began to scout for an acceptable turnoff. Finding what looked like a solid shoulder, I pulled over and cut the engine.

  “We made it,” Jema said as she pushed her door open.

  “One hour, we made it one hour.”

  She rolled her eyes and smiled for the first time. “I guess. But every little bit counts.” Sliding her rifle over her shoulder, she slammed her door shut.

  Fitting my pistol in my belt, I lowered myself out of the truck. My legs were stiffer than they should be for only having sat an hour, and I figured I might be more tense than I thought. Making my way to the rear of the truck, I helped pull the doors open.

  “How long are we here?” I asked.

  “Thirty-seven minutes. We should have people eat.” She jumped up onto the truck bed.

  “Oh, I guess.” I followed her. We found the food boxes and lowered them to the ground.

  I kneeled beside Mom. “You guys okay up there?”

  “Yeah, the girl seems solid.”

  A smile spread across her face. “The girl? You mean Jema?”

  “Yeah, I guess. Jema.”

  I walked away from her and into the woods to find a tree for some privacy. After taking a whizz, I zipped my pants.

  When I returned, Jema and the rest were packing up. I scanned the area, realizing we didn’t even have a head count.

  “Ten minutes,” she said when I approached her.

  “Okay, we should get a head count so we don’t leave anybody behind.”

  Her brow furrowed, but then her eyes widened. “Good idea.”

  Rounding everyone up, we took a census. There were eight women, fifteen kids, Jema, and me, making twenty-five in all. The passengers boarded the truck again, and we got in the cab. Her alarm sounded, and I started the engine. The GPS beeped, and the voice called out that all was clear, so I shifted to first gear and pulled onto the road.

  “You have two hours,” the contact person instructed.

  “Copy,” she said into the radio and set her watch again.

  Soon we left the cover of the trees and I looked to the sky. “You better get used to this.”

  “I know.” She leaned forward and peered at the GPS screen. “Looks like we’ll have cover by the next stop though. They must have this down to a science.”

  AT THE THIRD stop we had a fifty-minute wait. Jema paced to the road and back to the truck, kicking at the tires. “I don’t get it. We’ll never get there this way.”

  I pointed my finger up. “Dodging satellites.”

  The corners of her mouth turned down. “Oh.”

  “Guess you didn’t have communications and surveillance yet.”

  “No.”

  “I just don’t get the whole virus thing. I mean if we’re immune, then what’s the problem?”

  “Could be a different strain or virus altogether. Or they could use us to make a gene therapy drug. They might harvest bone marrow for stem cells.”

  “Different strain? Gene therapy? Stem cells?” She might as well have been speaking a different language. Even that would have been preferable, as I knew four.

  Smiling, she explained how viruses could mutate or change, how scientists could copy our DNA to impart immunity to others, and about harvesting stem cells. Even with her animations and examples, I only understood half of what she said.

  “Wow, so number one, I must have slept through biology. And number two, who knew you could give more than a one-sentence answer.”

  Her cheeks turned pink. “I’m going to check on my mom and sister.” She pointed to the group of women.

  THE NEXT SPAN took us parallel to a river and then out in the open again. Beside me, her leg bounced as we passed field after field of arid land. The temperature rose steadily as we drove south, and I hoped we had enough water or purifying tablets. We’d shed our jackets and converted pants to shorts. Even so, sweat poured down my face as the sun bore down on us.

  “Do you need sunscreen?” She held a bottle up.

  “Darn, I forgot.” I lifted my arm from the window, realizing it had turned beet red. “You probably don’t burn, do you?”

  “No.” She shook her head and squirted cream into my hand.

  Her radio beeped. “We have some kids getting sick back here. How long till the next break?” her mom’s voice asked.

  “Just under an hour. Sorry, we have to stay on schedule.”

  “I understand.”

  Within the next hour, we arrived in a forest littered with tall dead trunks. “These used to be some of the oldest and largest trees alive. They lived for thousands of years. Dad said you could drive a car through a redwood,” she said as she jumped out of the cab. “Now look at them.”

  I rolled my eyes. They were trees. “That’s global warming, I guess.” As we heaved the container doors open, the smell of vomit accosted my nose, and I pinched it shut. “Well, that’s going to be some water wasted.” I jumped onto the bed as the kids bolted towards the towering wood forms. Jema and one of the moms helped rinse the floor. I jumped out into the fresh air to find the kids sliding through small openings in the massive trunks. Walking amidst the trees, I found one with a large enough space to squeeze through. Inside, I held my arms out straight, and my fingertips didn’t reach either side.

  “Told ya they were cool,” Jema said as I came out of the hole in the tree.

  “I didn’t say they weren’t.”

  She pointed to her eyes, rolling her eyeballs up to the sky. “That’s g
lobal warming, I guess.”

  “Okay, you caught me. Whatever.” I pushed her on the shoulder.

  We rested on the stumps and ate our mid-day meal. I studied the map to get a mental picture of our route.

  “We’ve still got a few hours of coastline.”

  She stood and stretched. “I know. We should switch off driving. We turn east in about two hours. I don’t want to drive over the mountains.”

  “You think I do?”

  “We could flip a coin?”

  “Or have an arm wrestling match.”

  “That wouldn’t end well for me.” She walked away.

  I thought about what my friends were doing. We had practice till noon, and then we usually showered and grabbed lunch in town. Bridget and I usually talked every day. I wondered what she would think when I didn’t call and considered my phone stashed in the truck. Hearing a whistle created a sudden burst of frustration. I’d become a slave to the cave people directing us. Whatever. I kicked a branch out of my path. Thinking I needed a nap to rest up for the night, I did some jumping jacks and jogged back to the truck.

  “That whistle yours?” I asked Jema as I joined the group.

  “Yeah.” Her cheeks turned red.

  After a head count, we loaded the truck. Jema driving made me nervous, and I fought directing her as she climbed into the cab. “How do you know how to drive a truck like this?”

  “My uncle owns land in Montana. I drive on his property when we go up there.” She turned the key and revved the engine.

  “So you’ve driven trucks like this a lot?”

  “Since I was thirteen and tall enough to reach the pedals.”

  “You know how to use a gun too?”

  “Yeah. Dad taught me all the survival stuff just like you got in your camps.”

  “You think he probably trained you for something like this?”

  She shrugged. “I guess. I never thought about it till today.”

  Checking the mirrors, she moved the shifter into first gear and started forward. After a quarter hour, I decided she could handle the truck and leaned against the door for a nap.

  I woke to her jostling my arm. “Troy,” she said in a hushed tone.

  Sitting up fast, I spun my wrist over. “We have almost an hour till we should stop.”

  “Too bad.” She pointed out the windshield and cut the engine.

  The radio buzzed. “Why are you stopping?”

  “Huge tree in the road.” I threw the radio on the seat and jumped out of the cab.

  Jema joined me on the pavement. “I knew this was too easy. I’m going to let them know what’s going on.” She jogged away.

  Placing my hands on the trunk, I shoved with all my might. The tree didn’t budge. One by one, the others joined in, trying to push the log. Even with all of us, there wasn’t any movement.

  “Let’s check what tools we have.” I pointed back at the truck. We rummaged through all the compartments and gathered a crowbar, sledgehammer, lots of heavy metal chains, and straps near the trunk. What I’d wanted was an ax or chain saw.

  I wiped the sweat from my brow. “We’re going to have to tow it off the road.”

  Jema stood one hand to her hip. “How do we get the chains around it?”

  “Maybe the end?” We trudged over bushes to the tip, but it was only slightly more narrow. Crossing the road, we inspected the other side.

  A head popped out of the log. “This is awesome.”

  “Whoa.” I ducked down to see three more kids crawling through the middle.

  “We can make a hole and thread the chain through.”

  “Already there.” Jema slapped the top of the trunk and picked up the sledge hammer.

  It took fifteen minutes of pounding the crowbar to create a big enough space to feed the chain through.

  I looked at the sky. “We’re burning daylight.”

  “I’d rather travel at night anyway,” Jema said.

  “Guess you’re right.” I struck the crowbar, and the wood finally gave way under the pressure creating a second whole.

  We threaded the chains through the log and attached them to the truck. Sweat dripped onto the seat as I hoisted myself up into the cab. I turned the engine over and checked the mirrors. I’d had to turn the truck around and back it close enough to the tree. Finally, we were ready to pull. We’d placed the chain on the end, hoping to just pull it far enough so we could make a lane for the truck to pass through. With trees lining both sides of the road, there wasn’t much clearance on the shoulders. At least the dirt was hard and dry, so there was no danger of getting stuck.

  The radio buzzed. “Do you have a status? It’s half an hour till the next stop.”

  Stop now. Go now. I scowled at the device and tossed it out the window to Jema.

  Even with no warning, she caught it with one hand. She depressed the button on the top. “Give us a minute.” Sliding the radio in her pocket, she signaled all clear.

  I shifted the truck into gear and depressed the gas pedal. At first the truck resisted movement, but I pushed the pedal to the floor. The engine revved, and the truck inched forward. The kids in front of the truck started chanting. “Troy. Troy. Troy.” I glanced at the rearview mirror to see the tree moving behind me.

  “A few more feet!” Jema yelled.

  I shifted to second gear and moved forward about fifteen more feet.

  Jema waved her hand in the air. “That’s got it.”

  Switching the transmission to neutral, I cut the motor. When I lowered myself to the road, the kids surrounded me, whooping and yelling. I scanned the road, looking for Jema. We’d done it. We’d overcome our first major hurdle.

  Instructing the women to load the truck, I found Jema. Eyes intent on the road ahead, she slid the radio in her pocket and kicked at the asphalt.

  “Something wrong?”

  “It’s only twenty minutes till stop time.”

  “Well, let’s move. Twenty minutes is twenty minutes.”

  She lifted her hand and turned back to the truck. “Okay.”

  “Hey, we did it. We moved that tree out of the road. That was a big log.”

  She unhooked the chain. “You’re right. We did. We kicked that tree’s ass.”

  “Well, I wasn’t going to say ass, but since you did. Yeah, we kicked its ass bad.”

  Gathering the chains and stowing them in the cab, I slid in the passenger’s seat once again.

  “You should try to nap,” she said, starting the engine.

  “Fifteen minutes?”

  “Sure. Any sleep is good sleep. Besides, my driving is so smooth you’ll be out in twenty seconds.”

  “Confident much now?”

  I closed my eyes, but my body twitched with the adrenaline still circulating through my body. Pretending to sleep as she cut off the engine, I listened as she opened the back and helped the others out of the container.

  “HEY.” I FELT something on my arm and sat up fast. “You want food?” Jema’s face was inches from mine.

  “How long was I out?”

  “Well, seventeen minutes for the stop and two hours for the next leg.”

  I leaned towards the windshield to see the light in the sky dimming. “What time is it?”

  “Seven. We only have seventeen minutes again. There’s a stream if you want to freshen up.”

  “Got it.” She backed away from the door, and I lifted myself down to the road. As before, we were in a forest dense of dead trunks. I guessed I needed to get used to the lack of green.

  Joining the others at the stream, I washed off and replaced my shirt with a dry one. As I started away from the group, I heard a voice. “Hey, can I come with you?”

  “What?”

  “I need to pee. I’m the only other boy. I don’t want to go far alone.”

  “Wow, really?” I scanned the group and realized he was right. Seeing his wide eyes, I formed a fist and bumped it to his bicep. “What’s with that? We men need to stick together. Let�
�s go.”

  We walked about twenty feet away and stood behind one of the larger dried trunks. “What’s your name? How old are you?” I asked.

  “Jack, and I’m eight. But I got skills.” He puffed out his chest as he zipped his pants.

  “Yeah? What are those?”

  He told me what he’d learned at the survival camp he’d been to over the summer. As we reached the group, I could see Jema rounding everyone up and packing the meals in the truck.

  “Here.” She threw me a package. “You’ll have to eat as you drive. The mountain pass is next. I hope we can get over it before sunset.”

  I hung my head, feeling stupid for sleeping so long. “Sorry I was out for a while.”

  “Are you kidding? It’s tag team. Tag you’re it.” She faked a jab to my arm and held the keys up to me.

  The radio buzzed. “It’s time to move.”

  “Copy,” she said into the radio.

  Closing the doors, I made my way to the front of the truck.

  Starting out, I wondered how the area looked twenty-five years ago when leaves covered the trees.

  “We haven’t seen any animals,” I said, finishing the nutrition bar Jema handed me.

  “I saw some birds when we were driving along the coast. There were bugs on the ground.”

  “It’s weird. I’m used to songbirds, chipmunks, anything but silence.”

  More holes littered the road as we climbed the peaks, and I prayed our path stayed passable. The sinking sun reflected off the tree trunks, making them glow an eerie white. Beside me, Jema clutched the bar on the dash in front of her as we climbed to the top of one hill and downshifted on the descents.

  “You should sleep,” I told her.

  “I will when we get out of the mountains.”

  It took two hours to get to the other side of the range, and then the ground flattened out. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the rocky terrain in front of us glowed orange.

  “Can I freak out now?” I asked her.

  “No. I appreciate you driving over the mountains, though.” She kept her tone flat. “I need rest.” Leaning against the door, she closed her eyes.

  Once she was asleep and the cab became quiet, my heart rate evened out. With the monotonous level grade, my mind started to wander. We had no clue what we were running from or to. If I didn’t get back to school, there would be no scholarship and no chance out of the military life Dad had all mapped out for me. My plan hadn’t evolved much beyond the scholarship and college, but I knew I wanted something other than a life of defending the borders. I figured my flight skills may get me somewhere, but this AALC could ruin everything.