The Planck Factor

Chapter 40

Cynthia mouthed the words, "Keep typing." She seemed to be pondering as I did. "What happens now?" I wrote.

Cyn snapped to attention. "Finished?" She nodded to show I should answer in the affirmative.

"Yeah. I'm done," I announced.

"Good," she said. "Let's take a look."

I wondered why the public hadn't been warned but had a feeling I already knew. Such information would likely cause folks to panic. Homeland Security would want to nip this in the bud, before the group had a chance to make it happen. They'd want to keep the matter quiet for any number of reasons. All the businesses and local economies would be affected by a rash announcement of an impending supervolcano explosion. Besides, it was preventable, if we could just get the information to the right people in time.

"This will do," Cyn said. "You can pack up now." She printed our typed Q and A, saved it to a thumb drive, then deleted it from my laptop. I removed Cynthia's flash drive, stowed it and the thumb drive in my purse, and shut the laptop down. After I packed up my things, she handed me her gun. I stared at the firearm, unwilling to move or handle it. What am I supposed to do with this?

Cyn pulled out a notepad and pencil: Hit me on the head with the gun. Hard as you can. When I fall, run. Turn right, go down the hall, look for door. Notify Feds. They'll pick you up.

I shook my head. She mouthed, "Do it."

I gawked at the gun. Then at her face. I couldn't.

"Do it," she mouthed again. Cyn looked impatient.

I realized this was supposed to be my escape. I knew what I had to do.

"I'm sorry," I mouthed as I hauled back and swung the gun at her.

Cyn winced, but she took the hit like a pro. I felt sick.

I looped the strap of my laptop case across the opposite shoulder, my purse across the other.

Still wincing, Cyn stared at me with raised eyebrows that asked, "Ready?"

I wasn't but I didn't have a choice.

Cyn upended the chair. She let herself slump to the floor. I ran.