I linger in the shadows of the antechamber door. Of all the places a lady should never be, a dank, dark, and—I wrinkle my nose—malodorous cave tops the list.
You’ll chicken out. The mysterious peddler’s voice haunts me. Turn and run like the spoiled princess you are.
I clench my fist…
The clown bolted from the trailer across the open space to the big top and hurdled over the velvet rope at the entrance. Serella only had time to sputter “Hey!” before he was inside. Two men wearing FBI vests followed. She unhooked the rope without a word. Damn. Probably another drug dealer.
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“We hit this gas station”—I point at a crease in the map spread out over the RV’s dining table—“grab food, toilet paper, gas—”
“And slushies,” Martin chimes in.
“—and slushies. Then we hightail it to the monument, here.”
I survey my crew. Martin, my younger brother, looks like a…
Vince was grateful for his wetsuit, even though the frigid waters of the Potomac still stung as he rolled out of his boat that fated January morning. He gasped. Instantly, his bones began to ache.
I’m too old for this.
The sign plastered on a buoy read, “POOR VISIBILITY, STRONG CURRENTS.”
Donner. Where’s Donner?
Nicholas shielded his face from the blizzard’s gale, lifted his kerosene lamp, and counted the antlered heads of his reindeer. Dasher. Dancer.
A January gust smacked his red coat. Snow stung rosy cheeks.
Prancer… Vixen. The old man’s teeth gritted. Comet… Cupid… Blitzen…
Donner?
Yukon peaks loomed in silent observance…
A dozen people tread through the corn. Insects fall and writhe against their careful hands as they part the stalks. They curse under their breath for not sowing the seeds in tidy, even rows. Instead, the plants grew nestled close together, their rows zigzagging, mazelike across the miles of flat land.
She is missing.
As the Imperial heir, Sergei received virtually all within our mother’s possession upon her death: title, wealth, lands—even the loyalty of her Court and Council. She ordered them to raise their hands and vow over her deathbed to support Sergei. Such an oath holds more power than any law.
Yet to my mother’s…
Mark ducked away from a barrage of hail moments before the gunshot clacked. The bullet skimmed his shoulder as a gust, gritty and wet, kicked him to the sidewalk. The tornado slashing through the Indiana countryside was closing in—debris and trees rotating in a torrid sky like dust in a vacuum.
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I sit alone on the silent space station that was supposed to make me famous. Now, it’s hardly more than a dead shell. The bright overhead lights have been replaced by the red emergency lights behind me. The sun peers around the cursed planet below. I wonder if there are any eyes staring
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I clung to a thick rope, arms trembling as my breath rasped through my mask. The single torch high on the wall above me sputtered light at the deeper shadows of the night. A guard marched along the top of the wall, and his body briefly blocked the torchlight, but he was soon gone.
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If you were to ask me to list the Top Ways I Might Die Someday, “decapitation in a Safeway parking lot” wouldn’t have been at the top of the list.
What a difference a couple of days makes.
I looked around at the gaggle of survivors huddled in the safety of a shallow drainage
If you had watched me in the kitchen, you would have thought me ordinary, just another wife preparing dinner.
I made everything the way Bob liked it. I roasted the turkey for three hours at 325 degrees, then took it out of the oven and let it rest for fifteen minutes before carving.
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