The Pioneers

Chapter 3

They had their bags full by noon.

         After that, they filled a couple of suitcases for Mom and Dad. "They'll be happy to have their things," Ethan would say, stuffing the trunks with everything they could find that they and their parents could possibly need . . . at one point, they were only packing for the sake of giving their hands something to do, something to distract themselves.

           One more shirt. One more pair of pants. Amaryllis threw her skates in there somewhere, along with the tools necessary to keep up maintenance with them.

           At the rate they'd managed to clean out their rooms, they wouldn't have any reason to convince the redhead that they needed to stay behind. They wouldn't have to come back for anything, because anything that could possibly be important had already been readied for the journey ahead.

            "Why don't we run away?" Amaryllis said.

            They'd resigned back to the couch, collapsed, now realizing their exhaustion from getting up four hours earlier than they were used to. The adrenaline had worn off, and Ethan had come close to falling asleep until she'd made her comment, and out of some kind of brotherly love, he sacrificed the opportunity to rest so he could respond.

              "People are still outside," he said, gesturing toward the door. "Front and backyard are covered. So are the rest of the houses—or, at least from what I could see from the window."

            "Can't we jump out a window?"

            "And then what?" Ethan said. "We'd still need to get past the men in order to even get into a yard."

               Amaryllis rubbed the bandages over her hand. "Are we under attack?"

               Ethan sighed, opening his eyes again, and then meeting eyes with Amaryllis. "I don't think we'll know until they've finished."

              The ground vibrated, the windows rattled, and the house was thrust back into another momentary roller coaster ride. They happened about an hour apart, now, some bigger, some that they didn't notice in the first place . . . this one was an aftershock that took after its parent: loud, obnoxious, and making the siblings huddle into themselves until it'd passed.

              We won't know until they've finished.

              "What about the police?" She said, now lifting her head from the protective cover of her arms and looking around to ensure that nothing would fall on them.

               "Mom and Dad's phones don't work. The earthquake must've damaged the cell towers. I can't the internet to work, either."

                Amaryllis pursed her lips, and then sat back, holding her stare on the pile of bags at the door.

               "This is your last chance to preserve anything you have of this place."

                 They were under attack.

                 They had to be . . . if they had to preserve anything, that meant that what they already had was going to be destroyed. She thought she had no sentimental care for their house, but the idea of it caving in or being knocked down bothered her. Uneasiness returned, and shakiness came back, but she might as well suck it up.

                   Ethan was right.

                   They couldn't do anything.