Time Crossers 01: The Final Six Days Page 3
After dinner, they stroll down a long, busy walkway, dotted with engaged tourists and eager street vendors, and a perfect view of the northern Strip painting the background. They hold hands, and eventually lock arms as they battle the cold with the shared heat from their bodies. A shared feeling of bliss permeates through their being, a feeling that represents the pinnacle of human experience.
Above the street and at various stations along the long stretch of the Strip, holographic images appear from time to time accompanied by sound and vocals, to bring messages of commerce, sometimes news reports, a few times updates from the daily sporting contests. Most of the people take at most a passive glancing interest. But it’s hard not to notice these large holographic displays stretching the width of the street from one end to the other, projected from duel large black poles from each side of the street, and reaching dozens of meters into the sky. They almost impossible to ignore from any spot along the walkways.
This current one is different. The interest in this particular message is orders of magnitude more captivating, freezing everyone in their tracks, fascinating them beyond capacity. The images are synched with the others down the walkway as far as they can see. There’s not a lot of motion, no music of any kind, just an empty podium decorated with a large symbol of an eagle holding a striped shield. The words “BREAKING NEWS” are anchored on the bottom of the image. Suddenly, a man steps to the podium and the crowd silences that one could hear a pin drop.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it is with heartfelt sadness that I bear this news tonight. The attempts to disrupt and destroy the Icedragon asteroid have failed. Space agencies worldwide worked so tirelessly, so diligently, bringing the Asteroid Defense System online, but unfortunately it wasn’t enough. The asteroid will make landfall on the early morning of January 1st, at 7:21 am Eastern time, 4:21 am Pacific time, somewhere southwest of Las Vegas.
“The impact of the one-point-five-kilometer-wide asteroid will be devastating. It will create an impact crater roughly fifteen kilometers wide, and radiate a ring of fire spreading hundreds of kilometers. Within days, the dust plume from the impact will blanket the Earth, heating up the atmosphere before plunging us all into an impact winter that may carry on for years, killing crops and many species of life.
“The asteroid may not wipe out all life, but the era of modern civilization is coming to an end. If you can, get as far away from the west coast as possible. Try to find shelter indoors, away from the endless dust that will cloak the globe in darkness over the first few months. Remember, we may be down in the fight, but no asteroid can kill the human spirit. We will eventually emerge, renew, regrow. It was my honor to serve as your president. May God be with you in your prayers.”
The images disappear shortly thereafter. Friend looks around at the absolutely stunned crowd, the look of fear and terror on their faces, they seemingly happy lives suddenly shut down by a kill switch. Friend turns to Cassie and sees a face engulfed in sadness, tears flowing from her eyes. Those plans of hers to return to school, renew her life, even the prospect of a new man to comfort her, to be her best friend and most diligent supporter, all of it is now washed away by a crashing wave, never to be seen again.
“We need to get back to the room!” she urgently cries out, grabbing Friend’s hand.
Frozen terror turns into chaotic panic. The crowds become raucous, full of shrieking and loud screams. People are moving in every direction, even spilling into the streets and forcing traffic into a standstill. Cars are colliding with one another as attempt to swerve out of the way of the frenzied crowds. Within moments they can hear shattered glass. Nearby fights are breaking out, amplifying the mayhem to dangerous levels. As everyone tries to escape the frenzy, Cassie looks around to find the best course of action to lead them to safety.
“THERE!” She points, dashing through the middle of the street, taking advantage of the standstill. They diligently cross the street, sifting through some cars, almost being hit by others, desperately trying to get to the other side. They finally fight their way across, then run toward the hotel where they are met by a wall of security guards.
“Sorry, miss. Hotel guests only. Do you have a room card or tag?”
Her hands shaking in gripping nervousness as she pushes them through her purse. She lambasts herself for not synching her room tag to her watch. Crowds are amassing near the guards, slowly pushing her out of the way. Friend does what he can to protect her. Finally, she finds it and lefts it up and in view. The guards promptly nod them in, as they barely escape the exponentially growing frenzy outside.
They barely look around, forcing their way through crowds until they reach the elevator. Again, more guards. This time she has the card in hand, but a sizable crowd greets them, fighting over eight different elevators. She grabs his arm, tugging it hard, forcing herself and Friend through a combative crowd and onto the adjacent elevator that just opens, not letting anyone deny her their turn.
Down an almost endless hallway, decorated with midnight purple and maroon ornate, patternized carpet, they swiftly make for the room. Cassie quickly puts the key card to the door, and flings it open, looks around, and rapidly closes it behind them. Looking dead ahead are a somber couple, eyes glued to a wall as it projects a crisp moving holographic image from the wall extending several centimeters in front. Wyatt immediately stands up to greet them, shouting “mute” at the hologram monitor, causing the sound to go away. Friend studies the monitor, observing the two poles connected to a base, used to project the three dimensional image.
Alaina follows closely behind and both offer Cassie a warm hug, her face still worn with tears. “What are we going to do?” she asks Cassie, looking to her wiser friend for answers.
“What can we do?” Cassie responds, offering little comfort for an answer. “Is there even a point? Like they said the aftermath will be far worse. Have you heard of the term ‘impact winter’?”
Wyatt’s face is as pale as his white teeth. Under normal circumstances in a crisis, Cassie would turn on her left brain, executing a plan with vivid and precise logic. But she is smitten, in love, disconnected from that side of her brain. She is questioning her own will to survive, giving way to the ecstasy of passion, having never felt this way before in her entire life. Besides, she feels a premonition, something strange telling her to follow this path.
Friend on the other hand is completely on her wavelength. He has no history, no identity, and her presence is completely filling in that void. At this moment he would follow her to the ends of the Earth. Ironic that he feels that in a past life he would be in charge, sensing his leadership skills. But in this instance, he is more than willing to submit to her command. This is her world, after all.
“I’m with you, Cassie. When I’m with you I truly feel alive.” Friend affirms to her.
Alaina’s eyes roll. What has this man done with my Cassie? She may be right, that escaping the asteroid might be pointless, but so is staying in this city, right in its path. It is clear to her that Cassie is not herself. I just hate her right now, she cries to herself, as a swell of sadness overtaking her. Wyatt steps in and comforts his girl, always ready to read her needs and respond accordingly.
“Look you two, take my car. Pack what things you have. Head to Mexico. That is your best bet.” As Cassie firmly demands, Alaina and Wyatt do as she asks. They make haste, packing their suitcases, throwing what stuff they can fit in a hurry. For a brief moment, Alaina is comforted that Cassie rejected her idea of taking the Hyperloop, opting to drive instead.
“I love you, Miss Cassandra Whittle.” Alaina tells her, planting a kiss on her cheek. Wyatt, looking down, in a dejected stance, concurs, also with a kiss to the cheek, “Me too, Cassie. Take care.”
They are gone. Minutes of sadness and silence follow. She whisks herself under Friend’s arms, resuming the volume on the television monitor. It shows images of large swaths of those speeders, called cars, trying to evacuate the city, using vastly wide super road structur
es called freeways. Friend strangely does not fear death the way Cassie does, and wishes he could project some of his tranquility onto her.
Hours pass into the night. After the weight of the situation sinks in, she resumes opening up to him. It is therapeutic for her, and he knows it. He loves listening to her, absorbing every word. She talks about a past boyfriend, a man who abused her in an emotional way. He convinced her through his actions to drop out of her schooling at Caltech, a decision she regrets. This regret is amplified by Lila’s success at NASA. She also opens up about her adventures as a bartender. People she’s met, the relationships born in her presence.
He continues to hold her in his arms, both spread out on the bed, fed by an endless stream of holograms bringing coverage of despair throughout Las Vegas and the rest of the world. Her words slowly become quieter and murmurish, until she snores off to sleep.
3
Day 3 – December 28
Through the window he observes the Strip; its diminished vibe is a stark contrast from yesterday as the people are mostly gone. He spots only a few stragglers here and there, but even they are carrying bags or luggage, looking to escape town. Some damaged, abandoned cars dot the edges of the Strip.
On the hologram monitor they show detailed images of the panic. There’s a mass exodus into Mexico, overwhelming border guards in both countries, and slowing any kind of escape to a crawl. Some type of army regiment being deployed to assist evacuees throughout Las Vegas.
Cassie watches with unflinching interest. Friend, starting to realize that these broadcasts are designed to pollute their minds with fear, turns away in disapproval, focused more on the action he sees through the window. A normally headstrong Cassie succumbs to anxiety as she keeps her eyes glued to the monitor. A combination of tears and intense breathing renders her numb. Friend has had enough, and steps in.
“Off!” He shouts at the monitor, using his voice to control it as the others did the day before.
He grabs Cassie’s hands, stares into her alluring brown eyes, and consoles her. “Cassie, these broadcasts exist to propagate fear, creating an endless fear-curiosity loop that hooks you in. Beyond the obvious message that we are all doomed, there’s nothing left to learn from it. Let’s enjoy these last few days of our lives to the fullest.”
“You are right. Thank you for making me realize this.” She gasps in relief, then laments, “How could the whole world have been so stupid, including me? They’ve known about this asteroid for a year and a half, but they’ve failed to disrupt it away from Earth every step of the way.”
Friend ponders on her concerns, asking her. “How can a society allow itself to submit to such a horrible danger, and deceive itself all the way through the process?”
“They’ve been telling us all along we are safe. There were skeptics, questioning whether the government was misinforming the public, but they were dismissed as crazy conspiracy theorists.” She explains as she slowly regains her upbeat matter. His words have sprung her into action. “Let’s head downstairs.”
They cautiously make their way down the hallway to the elevator, then downstairs. Being on the nineteenth floor means a longer trip down, adding to their angst a bit.
They arrive into an empty casino floor. Tables are flipped over, gambling chips, papers, and trash littering the ground. There is an air of silent intensity as they look around, knowing that a day ago this place was a bustling scene. A scan of the gift shop nearby shows it has been completely ransacked, with all food and drinks cleaned out. Every minute or so there’s a distant noise, like a falling set of heavy plates or a pounding of the wall that echoes through the vast interior. This gives Friend and Cassie some pause.
“We need to find some food soon,” she suggests in a whisper.
There has to be ten or so restaurants here, one of them must have some food left in a pantry or closet. They check the café where they had the late night breakfast two days ago. At first glance nothing, refrigerators and shelves empty, but then Cassie spots something. Wedged underneath a large pile of bakery racks, toward the back of the wall, there’s a bag full of rolls. Plentiful and enough for the two of them for a day or so, they figure.
Suddenly a sound echoes in the distance, like a large tub of silverware hitting the ground. “Others are coming,” she whispers.
There are two exits in the kitchen, the one they came in, the same exit from where the sound came, and the other that leads toward the side. They head toward the latter, peaking through the small window, they watch as another couple scours for food, making their way to the first kitchen door. Timed right, they wait for them to enter, slowly tread out, sneaking through the restaurant slowly, then running.
They retreat back to the room without being noticed. After an hour they both crave information and turn on the monitor, even Friend who swore it off earlier. Immediately they show military armored vehicles traveling down the Strip. They talk about martial law being imposed, and all citizens ordered off the streets. Next they show the airports, hundreds of thousands of stranded passengers cram into the ticketing areas, pleading for a way out. Most planes have departed though by 11:00. They report that no more planes are returning. In other areas outside of Las Vegas they report on rioting, fires being set, and mob violence.
“Eventually all of this will subside,” Cassie speaks out, mostly to assure herself.
18:11
Later in the evening, Cassie suggests going out, to assess the scene below and possibly find other travelers. Being holed in a room is not her style. They dress warm and make for the bottom floor. Cassie wears her favorite black jacket, a bomber jacket made of a mix of some type of synthetic waterproof fabric, insulated with wool extending through the collar, and containing a few zipped pockets. It’s short and thin, yet designed to keep her warm in even the coldest elements. The jacket nicely matches her dark-as-night hair and eyes. She explains how it is her favorite jacket, as it is a perfect blend of style and function.
They venture outside into the cold night and not surprisingly, the streets are a lifeless ghost town. Most the street lights still operate, but much of the signage in front of the resorts are dark. There is eerie emptiness everywhere, with broken windows or doors that were laid waste by the melee.
As they continue their walk north of the hotel, they proceed with caution, trying to stay relatively hidden, camouflaging themselves in the darkness of night. To their bewilderment, much of the military presence that was rounding up citizens earlier has vanished, retreating for the night, or possibly forever.
Despite the perceived danger, they dare each other to push forward, hoping to find some signs of life. A few minutes later they notice a small crowd gathering up ahead, piquing their interest. They strut over in a fast pace, curious to check it out.
As they approach they notice a smaller, well-kept restaurant, surprisingly open for business. It is situated in a tiny shopping complex, sandwiched between two megastructure resorts that tower over it. They peek through the door to see a gathering of twenty or so people are enjoying food inside the restaurant.
As they walk toward the door to enter, a woman exits. She appears a little older than Cassie, with red hair and a look of independence, with her own unique style.
“Isn’t this chill?” she gleefully asks, walking opposite of their path. “The owner said he will never evacuate, and is staying open until all his food is gone.”
“Wait, what?” Cassie asks. “What about the armed military vehicles roaming through?”
“There’s a rumor they were ordered to pull out about an hour ago. They are mostly gone now. I’m not going anywhere I can tell you that much. I’d rather be here with a city to myself than trying to fight my way into Mexico.” The woman replies before heading off.
“See you around,” Cassie says in a fading tone as the lady vanishes quickly into the night.
They enter the restaurant and see for themselves, the owner welcomes them when they enter, conveying a pleasant, lively mood as i
f he just won big at the blackjack table. The restaurant interior is aged for sure, decorated with plain shades of white and yellow, with endless numbers of photographs hanging from the walls with ink markings, many containing images of the host.
“You too look like a lovely couple, choose anything on the menu!” he suggests. “Don’t worry about the price, it’s on me.”
“You are amazing for doing this.” She compliments him, extending the duration of his smile, but is left wondering. “But why?”
He leans in close to the two of them. “This is my ship for the past thirty years. Las Vegas is like my ocean. A captain never abandons ship. Besides, these megaresorts next to me have been trying to put me out of business for so long. It’s a funny thing, now that I’m getting the last laugh.”
Cassie and Friend order enchiladas, which he promptly whips up and brings to the table. To both of them, food has never tasted so good, especially after a day of only bread. As they sit and enjoy their meal, watching the others do the same, they embrace the mood of their host, joking, feeding each other. As they finish up, Friend can’t help but keen in on the conversation next to him.
“This is an outrage! We should nuke China for this!” The man irately states to his female companion. Cassie looks with a cautious eye, knowing that tensions between the United States and China have made Asians, even mixed Asian people like herself a bit uneasy. Wishing to not partake in an ethnic backlash, she stands up, smiling as she grab’s Friend’s hand. She thanks the owner with a hug and kiss on the cheek, for showing her the best of human spirit.
On their way back to the hotel, he questions her urgency to leave. “What did that man mean by nuking China?”
The question stirs up a bit of animosity, and she desires to free the negativity from her chest. “The United States, our nation, and China, another nation across the globe are in what is called a ‘cold war’. The official title is the Second Cold War. Tensions between the nations have started during the renewed space era. When the asteroid was discovered to be headed toward Earth, many blamed China since it is technically ‘their’ asteroid. But both nations have cooperated at least to divert it.”