Shatterbones Page 2

  “It is peaceful now that you mention it. I was surprised not to find you in the study.”

  “We have a week with him at the camp, and I intend to enjoy every minute of it. I don’t know when I’ll be able to spend time the backyard again without dodging axes and swords.”

  “Well you’ve earned it mister.”

  “We’ve earned it,” he says leaning forward and giving her a kiss. “I won’t be able to stay out here long if this heat keeps up, though. It feels like it’s in the mid-eighties already, and it’s not even ten o’clock. What did the weather people say today was going to be like?”

  “I don’t know. They were saying something about it on the T.V. when I came out but I wasn’t listening. You’re right, though, if this keeps up it will be a scorcher.”

  “Even with the heat, it’s a beautiful morning. What is this?”

  Greg stands up and looks around as the color washes out of the surrounding trees and the world fades to blue.

  “Evelyn, what’s going on, are you okay?”

  Hunched over her knees, Evelyn is holding onto her stomach.

  “I’m fine, the baby just started kicking really hard. I think something’s wrong, everything looks odd.”

  “If you mean the washed out blue, I see it too.”

  “Oh good. I don’t want anything to go wrong. Could you help me up? I want to go inside.”

  Halfway back to the house, a strange howling noise echoes through the air making the hair stand up on Evelyn’s neck. They stop, look at each and he is nodding at her.

  “I heard it too,” he says while pulling his phone out of his pocket to make a call.

  “Was that a scream?” she asks gripping his arm as he dials 911.

  The Cavanaugh’s live on the outskirts of Springfield, Oregon on a quiet street called Clearwater Lane just north of a section of the Willamette River. The house is removed from the regular congested sections of suburbia where house after house sit in close proximity to each other.

  The homes out here are all on their own five-or ten-acre lots, and the various owners take pride and care in what they own. Criminal activity doesn’t occur in this part of the city. It is too heavily patrolled by the private security the local landowners hired to protect their property and lifestyles.

  “I got put on hold,” he says, looking angrily at his phone as if he can force the police to pick it up.

  Another sound echoes through the sky making them both start moving their feet.

  “That was a gunshot,” they say in unison and run to open the back door of the house.

  The next ten minutes are spent in frantic and useless phone dialing. They never reached the police. Their cell phones went from constant ringing, to messages that the system was overwhelmed, to steady busy tones. Even the landline they have in the house was no good to them. Every number they had to dial was for a cell phone on the other end or other messages and busy signals. No calls were going out over the airwaves.

  “I have one more number I can call, Evelyn, I’m heading to my study. You keep trying our phones, maybe you’ll get through.”

  Returning to the kitchen a few moments later, Greg pauses at the kitchen entryway and looks at his wife. She is drinking a glass of water which is shaking in time with her hand. Turning her head toward him, her tear-soaked eyes are red, but instead of sorrow, they now express anger.

  “I haven’t gotten through. Not one damn phone number I called is connecting.”

  Stepping forward and grabbing hold of her hands, Greg smiles.

  “My number worked.” Her eyes light up but he shakes his head to prevent her from asking anything. “I don’t know about Lloyd; in fact, I don’t know anything.”

  “You don’t know anything? Who the hell did you call?”

  “After I was sworn in, they gave me a package to be used during emergencies. It had a number on the front that I was supposed to call if there was ever an attack or normal communications went down. They barely let me ask any questions, so I don’t know what is going on. They asked who I was and my authorization code, how many people were here and what our current situation was.”

  “Our current situation? Compared to what?”

  “That’s what I asked. They asked if we were currently under attack or in immediate danger. I told them about the gunshots and the screams, that Lloyd is at a summer camp and we’re the only ones here. After I gave them the camp’s address, they said they would try to get someone out here right away and hung up. When I dialed back, I got a message telling me our call has been received and help is on the way.”

  The surface of the water in Evelyn’s glass ripples, and the windows shake as well with the clap of sound that hits the house. Both rush to the back door and run out into the yard to try and see from which direction the explosions sound came.

  Returning to the backyard reminds them both why they retreated inside in the first place. The muted sound of a distant explosion was enough to breach the sound dampening construction of their home. The now regular crackle of gunfire in the distance reaches their ears to remind them something terrible is happening in Springfield today.

  “We shouldn’t be out here. We can’t even see anything from back here, our yard is too secluded by trees.”

  “What do you think it was?”

  “There’s too many possibilities for me to know for sure. I might be able to see something from the roof, but I need to get you back inside first.”

  Another sound of an echoing crash reaches them before they return to the house.

  “We have to get back inside!”

  Before reaching the backdoor, a police officer rounds the corner of their house followed by several stiff-looking armed men in suits that Greg thinks belong back in Washington D.C.

  “Representative Cavanaugh?” the leading man asks.

  “Yes, that’s me. What’s going on? Did you hear the explosions?”

  “Sir, we have been sent to take you and your wife to safety. Where is your son?”

  “Lloyd’s at summer camp.” Evelyn’s motherly anxiety is etched on her expression and the wavering sound of her voice tells Greg she had momentarily forgotten about her son’s absence with the other dangers around them.

  Over the last six months, she had gotten used to seeing Washington security work, or at least she thought she had. This is something different, though, and the appearance of these men at her home amongst the sounds of what seem like distant warfare is making her tremble with fear.

  “Sir, ma’am, we have to make sure your son isn’t here. Are you certain he is not in the house?”

  “No. He’s at summer camp like my wife said. I told them where he was when I called. What’s going on?”

  “Are there any other children or adolescents in the house?”

  “No!” Greg yells at the man for ignoring his questions. “Now tell me what the hell is going on! What is happening out there?”

  “Sir, I am Agent Everett, and we’re with Homeland Security,” he says showing his identity badge. “I have to ask you to step into your house, and we can answer the rest of your questions inside. It isn’t safe out here; we don’t know how many of them live in this area.”

  Greg and Evelyn are ushered nervously into their house followed by four men in suits with guns drawn.

  Agent Everett turns to dismiss the police officer.

  “Thank you for your cooperation in getting us here, Officer. I’m sure you will have plenty to do today, and we shouldn’t keep you from your duties any longer than we already have.”

  The dismissal is polite enough, but you could hear the strain in Everett’s voice as he spoke.

  “Representative Cavanaugh, I have a phone number you’re supposed to call to be filled in, do you have a phone?”

  “Yes, right here,” he says showing his smartphone.

  “Only land lines will be working now, I’m afraid. There is a national emergency going on, the cell phone lines have been shut down to prevent panic from spreadi
ng.”

  “If you think shutting down phone lines will prevent panic, you’re kidding yourself.”

  “I don’t make the rules, sir. I’m just repeating what we were told. Do you have a land line?”

  “Yes, it’s in here.”

  The distant sounds of more yelling and gunfire drift in through the open back door until the final man pulls it closed. Evelyn paces back and forth while her husband dials the number Agent Everett gave him. Earlier, her demeanor changed from fearful to anxious, now she looks more resolute, almost determined to take on whatever comes their way as she rubs her swollen belly.

  The conversation is brief, and Evelyn watches as her husband shrinks into the chair with every nod and acknowledgment he utters at the phone. When he is done, he lifts the receiver to Agent Everett who takes it from him.

  “They need to give you instructions,” he says in a depressed and hollow tone.

  Standing to face his wife, Evelyn is shocked to see her husband look aged and defeated from the call. The only other time she saw him like this was after he learned of his father’s death.

  “What is happening?”

  “They will take us to a secure location.”

  “Who is picking up Lloyd? Are they sending someone to pick him up?”

  He looks at her and shakes his head.

  “They brought all of these men with them because of Lloyd.”

  Evelyn doesn’t understand and puts her hand to her mouth in a mix of concern and shock. What could her twelve-year-old son have done to bring Homeland Security to their home with guns drawn?

  “This is a mistake, right? I mean Lloyd has never done anything wrong. He didn’t access some of your work on your computer before he left, did he?”

  Greg grabs his wife into a hug. The type of hug no mother wants to feel when discussing a child. It is a hug of desperation, a grip of despair.

  “It isn’t about the computer. It has to do with the shootings and screams outside.”

  Chapter Three

  The Taylors

  9:37AM

  Santiam Forest, Oregon

  “Mmmm, that smells good.” The aroma of bacon and eggs wafts into the tent when Robert opens the zipper.

  “Hey, sleepy head, everyone else is outside eating already, but I thought I would let you sleep in.”

  Rolling over with a stretch and a groan, she smiles at her husband and whispers, “Thank you.”

  “Tell me what you’d like to eat and I’ll get started on it.” He smiles while reaching for the tube of sun block he came in to get. “If you’re going hiking with us, you need to get moving, Tanya. The kids are finishing their food, and I just came to get their sun block on and we can go.”

  “I can finish whatever’s left if it will save us time.”

  “I’ll have to make more for you. There won’t be anything left when they’re done.”

  “Okay. I’ll take some scrambled eggs and bacon and I’ll be out in a few.”

  “Love you.” He smiles and leaves the tent.

  “I love you too,” she calls out to his retreating shadow.

  Nothing is easy when you have kids. That isn’t to imply that it should be avoided or isn’t worthwhile, because it is. It is just a fact that everything is difficult when you have children. Like bathing a cat, or holding on to a lively puppy, children manage to wiggle away and run in the least convenient direction. This trip was different, however. Either the kids were all genuinely excited about going camping or the stars were magically aligned to get them out of the house when they needed to go. Even the morning ritual of getting them all ready for the hike went smooth.

  “We’re all going to need this if the heat keeps increasing.” Robert hands the sun block to his oldest daughter, Cora, while squinting at the sun in the sky.

  “If you let me have my tablet, I can look at the weather forecast.” The pleading tone in her statement makes him smile and shake his head.

  “No internet until tonight. Please help the others put the sun block on, I’m going to make your mom some breakfast.”

  “Is she coming with us?” Elizabeth asks excitedly.

  “Of course she is. You don’t think I can handle all of you on my own, do you?”

  The kids all jump up and down cheering their mom’s inclusion into this hiking trip. The soft sounds of nature in the morning have all vanished into the din of exuberant noise the five children produce.

  When Tanya emerges from her tent, she is bombarded by the rushed hugs of her kids all wanting to be the first to say good morning. She struggles to wade through the flood of children pressed around her in order to make it to the picnic table where Robert is making the eggs and smiling at her.

  “Dad told us we had to let you sleep!” one of them states accusingly of their father with a round of agreement coming from the others.

  “And I’m glad you listened to him.” She groans a bit while picking up their youngest, Gabriel. “I was up late finishing an assignment.”

  Tanya is taking online classes for a masters in nursing administration.

  “Now I know why you grabbed the sunblock from the tent, it’s already baking out here.”

  “Dad won’t let me look at the weather forecast!” Cora complains

  While Tanya eats, the kids explore the campsite they didn’t get to see last night during their arrival. Robert keeps an eye on the kids over Tanya’s shoulder as they sit across from each other at the table and enjoy being out of the city for a while.

  “How did you get them ready so quickly?”

  “They’ve been up for a while, but honestly, it wasn’t all me. I didn’t have to struggle with them to get dressed and ready. I’m as surprised as you are that they are ready to go. Cora has been helping out a lot also.”

  “How are you feeling? You were up as late as me, and I’m sure you woke up when they did.”

  “I’m all right. It felt a bit strange waking up with the sun this morning, but the newness of the area is keeping me fresh. I’ll sleep like a log tonight, but right now, I’m ready to get on the trails.”

  “I don’t know how you do it.”

  “Denial. I keep my mind and body in complete denial on the amount of sleep they actually need.”

  *

  Hiking feels great. The family is following a series of well-made trails through the mountain terrain, but it still feels like each of them are getting lost in the wilderness. At least they are losing the regimentation of living in the city. The feeling of solitude is amplified by the fact that the trails are largely empty today. In the ninety minutes they have been hiking, only three other groups passed them on the trails, two couples and a family with a teenage boy. On normal hiking outings, they are passed on regular intervals by other hikers that aren’t slowed down by five children the way Robert and Tanya are.

  Cora stops on the trail and kneels down ahead of everyone. “Mom, Dad, I don’t feel so good. I think I’m starting to see things.”

  Gazing around at the sky, the trees and flowers along the trail, everyone is bewildered. “It’s not just you, Cora, I see it too, everything has a blue tint to it.”

  “Robert, listen.”

  “I know. Something’s wrong.”

  The world falls into silence with the arrival of the blue tint. The birds, the insects, even the wind seem to have vanished from the planet and the dead silence filling their ears causes the hair on their necks to stand on end.

  This silence, like all horrific periods of calm, is broken by a piercing scream in the distance. It isn’t a singular scream, however, it is the repeated and broken crying out of someone in painful agony. The distant screamer continues their cries of pain, and the world around them explodes into a terrifying symphony of sounds. A rushing din fills the air of what seems like every bird in the area taking to the skies. They are cawing and chirping their displeasure at what is occurring in the world. Squirrels and chipmunks also start crying out, and even the dragonflies and other buzzing insects of the world err
atically take flight around them.

  Robert draws his handgun and looks over to Tanya to see she already had hers out and ready. The next sound fills his heart with pain and fear. Having been distracted by the reaction of the wildlife to the blue light and the explosion of noise responding to the distant scream, he failed to notice his own daughter collapsed on the trail in front of them. Elizabeth, their second oldest and Cora’s best friend, is at her side screaming for her parents to do something. Her concern turns to fear, and she jumps up and backs away from her sister when the first sound of cracking emanates from Cora’s body.

  Cora’s own agonized screaming accompanied by the sound of her breaking bones fills their ears. Their daughter is writhing on the ground in front of them and appears to be wrestling with an invisible attacker. An attacker that is snapping all of her bones. Her arms, legs and fingers are all bending by themselves in unnatural directions as they all watch helplessly. Each new bend is accompanied by the popping sounds of the bones beneath the skin breaking and renewed cries of agony from her.

  Behind Robert and Tanya, their other kids are screaming and crying, and Robert grabs onto Elizabeth to prevent her from running back to Cora’s side. Mere seconds pass as the frequency of her bones breaking intensifies into a crackling sound. It is more like the loud crumpling of a newspaper rather than solid bones.

  Her body begins straightening out, twisting itself back into a form similar to her original shape, but longer and more muscular.

  With one final popping sound, as if everything just snapped back into place, her head pivots toward her family, and she jumps to her feet facing them. Her clothes are ripped and dangling off of her in places both from her increased size and the violent thrashing against the ground. Their twelve-year-old daughter is easily a foot taller than she was a few seconds earlier. She looks more like a steroid-bulked Olympic runner than the lithe little girl who was with them less than twenty seconds ago.