Page 60 of Doomsdate

My hand is shaking too hard to turn the key, so Maisie takes over. The door creaks open. A picture-perfect living room awaits us, and nothing else.

“Gemma?” I bellow as I push inside, the fear finally giving way to panic. Cold, horrified panic. It rushes through my limbs, forces them into a quick, shambling run.

“Stay prepared!” Maisie yells behind me. “Taser on!”

I’m panting as I push open the doors to the bathroom, to the laundry room, to the back patio, but Gemma isn’t there. I turn and pound up the stairs in the front room to the second floor, where the bedrooms are. Hers is in disarray—the first sign of life in the whole house. Clothes, shoes, boots thrown about the bed. But still no Gemma.

Maisie arrives right behind me, taking it all in. “She left.”

“How do you know?” I spin to face her.

“This looks like someone who was packing really quickly.” Maisie enters the room, checks the closet, the en suite bathroom. Her face is rueful. “No one’s here, Everett. Would she have left you a note?”

I suck a breath in. There, on her dresser, is a framed picture of our family taken one sunny spring day on the Mall. Cherry blossoms cloud the trees behind us, softly out of focus, the Washington Monument in the distance. A white, folded-up piece of paper blocks me in the picture completely.

I snatch at it.

“It’s a letter.” My hands tremble as I unfold it flat.

My eyes swim across the page, unable to focus. I’m breathing too hard, too fast.

“Can I?” Maisie offers, and I hand it to her. She clears her throat and begins to read.

Dear Everett,

If you’re reading this, you made it to D.C.—holy forking shirtballs, man. Good job.

Maisie pauses and frowns at me. “I swear that’s what it says.”

“It’s from a show we loved,” I explain, gesturing for her to continue. “Keep reading.”

I’m so sorry I’m not here to meet you. I’m writing this to you now under significant parental duress. The thing is, a few hours after we spoke, Mom and Dad showed up unannounced in a goddamn helicopter they commandeered from West Point. They are taking me back with them, and I am powerless to convince them otherwise—you know how they are. The helicopter’s tank is only large enough to get them from West Point to D.C. and back, or else we’d be on our way to Durham to get you, too. I tried calling you back to tell you this, but the calls fail every time. I’m so sorry this is how you’re finding out.

Based on your estimated arrival, Mom and Dad have decided the safest bet is to come back and get you Tuesday at noon at the White House South Lawn helipad. They flew over the White House on the way here, and it appears to be completely abandoned (which, wow, gonna need to process that later while screaming into a very large pillow), so you should have no trouble getting in and meeting them there.

Everett, I am hoping with my whole heart that you’ve made it this far, and you’re reading these words. Mom and Dad said it’s madness out there, and only getting worse. I know you have major issues with them, but please, PLEASE, meet us at the helipad on Tuesday. If not for them, do it for me, your only little sister and your favorite person in the world, and yes, this is blatant emotional manipulation, and it damn well better be working. I love you. So, so very much. See you soon.

Love,

Gemma

Maisie glances up from the letter to me. “It’s dated Saturday.”

I collapse backward on Gemma’s bed and exhale with hurricane-strength force.

“My parents.” I cover my face with my hands and groan. “My parents are coming to get me. Tomorrow.”

It really is the end of the world.

Maisie

The disappointment rolling off Everett is thick and heavy. It makes my relief at not having to say goodbye to him yet heavier, too, the buoyant, elated feeling weighed down with a lead bottom of guilt. I shouldn’t be happy that Everett’s plans fell apart and got reshuffled into something else without his permission.

But I am.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I know you’re…” I pause, searching for the right word. Naming other people’s emotions has never been easy for me.

“Devastated that my sister isn’t here, our government’s apparently collapsed, and now I have to go live with my parents?” he supplies, wiping at his eyes roughly.