"I mean, what else could we do? One minute we're watching SNL, and the next we're running for our lives. We had no warning. All we knew was that we had 45 minutes, maybe an hour. The only option anyone really had was to find the deepest hole possible and hope we didn't end up like the dinosaurs."

  - from "The Way Back: An Oral History of the Dark Years in America" by Brooks Gaillen

  September 15th, 2012. Charlottesville, VA

  "Daddy, where are we going?"

  Her father was scrambling, practically jumping across the room. There was sweat on his balding head. His face was red, cheeks bulging from a clenched jaw. He rifled through his dresser, throwing socks and underwear into the open suitcase on the bed while muttering curses in Cantonese.

  "We're going to see our friend Travis, Simone. Go to your room and pack your bag, we have to hurry." His voiced was strained, like he was holding back a bull. A bottle of mouthwash bounced off the tiles as he ransacked the master bathroom, grabbing pill bottles and toothbrushes.

  Simone shuffled across the hall to the room she shared with her brother Alex. It was a mess. Clothes were strewn on the floor, along with several Tonka trucks and her plush owl Horace. She clenched her fist, resisting the urge to start cleaning as she picked up her owl.

  Alex was in the corner by his dresser, his glasses shifting slightly as he bounced on the balls of his feet. He was talking with their mother, holding two action figures and gesturing them at her fiercely.

  "I told you, I can't just bring one or the other. If I bring Megatron then Starscream has to..." His lecture voice was out, even then.

  Their mother let a jet of air escape her clenched teeth, then ripped the plastic figures out of his hands and threw them in the bag.

  "Whatever Alex, just bring them both. We don't have time for this. No more toys, just clothes." She looked down at him, the color still bright in her cheeks but the anger retreating from her eyes.

  "I'm sorry, sweetie. Just...bring stuff you'll need. We have to leave quickly and I don't know when we'll be back."

  "Is it like a vacation?" Simone stood there looking up at her, her bag and the dresser drawer open.

  "Yes honey, a vacation." She knelt down and started pulling out clothes from the dresser, being careful not to mess up the precise folding of each pair of shirt and pants. She knew her daughter very well.

  "But we have to hurry if we're going to get there in time. Are you okay with packing, honey? I need to check on daddy."

  She nodded her head, her focus on the clothes now. Her hands were steady, bringing out each piece carefully. One krinkle and they would need to be refolded. She held that idea in her head and worked methodically, trying to keep her mind off the growing knot in her stomach. This was no vacation. Vacation was supposed to relax you, and mommy and daddy were as far from relaxed as she had ever seen.

  "Do you know what's going on Lex? Mom and dad look scared."

  Alex looked over at her, shoving in the last of his poorly folded clothes into a bag and zipping it up.

  "It was something they saw on the TV. One of those emergency broadcasts that makes an annoying noise." He honked his imitation of an alarm. It was flat, almost timid.

  "Something about the sun. We've got about an hour, I think."

  Simone looked into his eyes, not needing to. She could feel the anxiety pouring off of him in the way only twins can.

  "Is the sun gonna blow up?"

  Alex chuckled without much mirth, walking over to her and putting his hand on her shoulder. "I don't think so sis. It's something the government did. Daddy said so. Said they probably knew all about it, they just didn't know how bad it was going to be."

  He rubbed her head and marched to the bathroom next door as she finished packing her clothes. Soap and shampoo went into the side pocket, along with the toothpaste and toothbrush she kept in a plastic bag.

  She walked back to her room, trying to think of anything she might need. Her tote bag was full of clothes and amenities, so she grabbed her backpack, plain black besides a sticker of Raven from Teen Titans at the bottom. She removed the schoolbooks, aside from a couple from English and History she had gotten into this last semester. The Sudoku board on top of her dresser went into the backpack, followed by her sketchpad and pencils.

  Horace stayed out of the bag, where she needed him. She looked up at the poster attached to the wall next to her bed, the huge figure of Florence Welch looking over her, ethereal in stagelight and a white dress. Could she bring the poster? Her mom said that they didn't know when they'd be back.

  She thought of sleeping in a strange place, someone's house maybe, or perhaps a hotel. Crooked pictures on the wall. Odd smells. Loose sheets bunched up under her back. It would be hard to sleep without Florence.

  An arm hooked around her elbow and pulled. "C'mon, Simi, we've got to go." Alex sounded more calm. "Mom and dad are calling."

  She resisted, still staring up at Florence. "But I need my poster. I won't be able to sleep!"

  He pulled her close, putting his mouth close to her ear. "It's okay Simi, I got to leave stuff behind, too. I don't have room for Lex Luthor, or Doomsday."

  She hated when people got that close, even her parents sometimes. Their smell, their heat, the gravity of their presence repelling rather than attracting. She almost never let anyone get that close, to pop her bubble, other than Lex.

  His scent was a shelter, the clean smell of plastic, a slightly sweet odor of Pepsi and Bubble Yum. His heat didn't seem hot and stifling. His gravity was a welcome embrace.

  "We'll sleep next to each other tonight." He hugged her tight. "As long as I'm there it's home, right?"

  She looked him in the eyes and nodded. "I'm home, and you're home." She poked him in the chest.

  "Now let's go. I wanna get somewhere safe." He grabbed her wrist and started her towards the door. Their parents could be heard before they even hit the stairs.

  "Travis has plenty of food, why do you need to bring more? We don't even know if we'll need it at all!" Their mother was coming in from outside, yelling at their father at the mouth of the pantry. The lights of their Subaru shined through the curtains.

  "We don't know what we're in for, so we have to prepare for everything we can. Besides, it would be rude not to bring anything with us and eat up all of Travis' rations!" Her father was stacking canned foods in a cardboard box. Beans. Peas. A couple tins of canned chicken.

  Simone hated the canned stuff, but her father loved it. Or, more accurately, he loved the thick coating of spices he put on it. A couple of those spices tumbled in. Cayenne. Garlic. Cumin. Ginger. At least their food would taste alright.

  "Fine, but just this box. We have to go, Herman!" She snatched the box from his hands, the last can of chili beans near falling out before righting itself. Their mother ran to the car, not giving them a second glance.

  "C'mon kids, get to the car." Their father was behind them, dragging a big black garbage bag and pushing them lightly. What was in the garbage bag? Bedding?

  Simone held her tote bag with both hands, pulling it close to her hip. It was heavy. She had packed it full. Her body leaned to compensate as she waddled down the stairs. The sun was low, so low it hurt her eyes. She put her head down, following her brother's feet until they reached the SUV.

  Their dad took the bags, throwing then in the back on top of the box of food. He set the big garbage bag on top of it all, pushing in loose sections before slamming the door closed. Alex climbed into the backseat, then turned around and pulled her up.

  She looked through the windshield at their house, wondering when she would see it again. The swish of a tail caught her eye.

  "Wait, we have to bring Sam!" She screamed and pointed at the corner of the porch, where an orange Maine Coon with a bottlebrush tail was staring at her mother as she closed the front door.

  Her father looked back as he started the car. "I'm sorry honey, but we won't have any space for Sam at Travis'. We won't have any food for him either. I just don't —"

  "But we can't leave him! He's part of the family!" She was pawing at her father's shirt now, Alex holding her back.

  Her father looked down, his jaw clenched. "I really wish we could Simone, but we just can't." He looked up as there mother sat down and slammed her door shut.

  "I'm sure he'll be fine anyway. He spends a lot of time outside."

  Her mother looked back as she buckled her seatbelt. "You mean Sam? Yes, Simone, Sam will be fine. He's a cat. They're made to survive."

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  The nonchalant way she threw away her best friend and nightly cuddlebuddy stung, but she had become used to it. There was no arguing with their mother. Even attempting to was a poor proposition, a fast-track to learning just how many secret shames and hidden buttons inside of you she knew how to twist and press.

  So she just sat back, hugging Alex's arm tight as her father backed out of the driveway. She gave a little wave to Sam as they started down the street. The cat just stared back, twitching his bottlebrush tail back and forth.

  She sat back in her seat, hugging Horace tight. Trunks were open in almost every driveway on the street, aside from a few houses that stood dark, the cars still in but the curtains drawn tight. Men, women, and children scrambled all around her as the car built speed, jumping around and running over each other in their haste.

  One woman lost her balance trying to get a bulging tote bag to the trunk of their sedan, running straight into a small child who was staring around in fear and confusion, cracking her knee against his ear with a thump Simone could swear she heard.

  The child crumpled to the ground like wet paper, the weight of the overstuffed tote sending the woman forward for a face-first acquaintance with the concrete. The woman's hand shot from the handle of the tote to her shattered nose, trying to hold together the loose pieces of cartilage. Her eyes, rimmed with tears and primed with adrenaline, looked from Simone, then down to the child who lay still upon the driveway, their eyes closed and a tiny trickle of blood coming from one ear.

  The woman looked back up, staring straight into Simone's eyes as her hands curled in horror, revealing her mutilated nose and face twisted in grief. Tears rolled from her eyes and mingled with the blood from her nose, forming a pink solution the flowed over her bared teeth and dripped from her chin.

  She screamed, full throated and primal, and Simone finally looked away. She buried her head in Horace's wing, trying to will the image away, to keep it from lodging into her memory.

  A hand touched her shoulder. "It's okay, Simi. It looks worse than it is." She looked up and saw Lex, looking past her, his gaze slowly turning to their rear. He had seen.

  "Everything looks worse when people are scared."

  "But...he wasn't moving." The tears were starting.

  His hand squeezed her shoulder and he gave a weak chuckle. "Yeah, well I'd probably take a second too if my mom kneed me in the ear. He just needed a minute to get his bearings. Just like you, Simi. We've got a minute. Take a breath."

  She looked down and tried to take a deep breath, her hand working her way to the underside of Horace's wing, where the fabric was softer. Her began to slow as she stroked the soft plush, shaking less on every inhale.

  She wished Sam was with them. His fur was the softest. And he could purr. His purr was the best, a soft rumble that could calm her down instantaneously, dropping her down into a sea of calm that often ended with her snoring lightly, the cat that was almost as big as she was draped across her perpendicularly.

  She laid Horace down across her lap, trying to mimic the effect. Nothing came. There was no warmth, no weight, no purr. That had left all of that at home.

  They took a left off the main road, the rows of houses giving way to large sections of woods, occasionally parting to show a sprawling farm or a derelict gas station that was probably open last in the 60's.

  Simone looked to her left, past her brother, onto the western horizon. The autumn sun was setting, the orange ball just starting to touch the land. A band of clouds rested just above the horizon, giving the sun a skirt of pink cotton candy that split the light into yellows and a harsh orange, causing the blur of trees rushing past to become a uniform corona of swirling fire, the orange, red, and yellow of the leaves blending into the illusion.

  Loud music cut in, LMFAO letting everyone know he was sexy and he knew it, before the song cut off and was replaced with classic rock, Bob Seger educating everyone about the capital of Nepal. Her mother's hand shot out and flipped the dial again, a news broadcast from a woman with a deep, soothing voice.

  "Hey, I was listening to that." Her father looked to the passenger seat, incredulous.

  Her mother glared back, her eyebrows set like palisades. "You can listen to your music once this is over. For now, we need to know what is happening." Her hand turned another dial, raising the volume.

  "...the full extent of damage the event may cause, but NASA and the Department of Homeland Security have put together a list of potential dangers and side effects based on scientific analysis and research on similar solar phenomena. The greatest and most present danger will come from electrical overload. Like a solar flare, this event has a high potential to damage electrical devices and systems, even to the point of causing electrocution and fire damage. Wherever you are, wherever you plan to take shelter at, make sure that all of your electrical devices are disconnected from their power source. Remove all batteries, including car batteries and small cells like AA's, or the device may become permanently damaged and potentially a fire hazard. Flip all breakers, and remove fuses if possible. Remove glass light bulbs as well. Disconnecting the fixture from power should be sufficient to prevent damage, but there is no knowing the extent of the event's effects, and glass light bulbs are known to explode when hit with a power surge. Once your electrical systems are secure, shelter in an area away from glass windows and exterior walls. Try to collect 2-3 days of food and water. The event may cause the interruption of usual services, such as power, transportation, and water. The event may also cause vehicles to become unusable, as well as disabling refrigeration and other electrically based methods of food preservation. Physical side effects of the event are not limited to, but my include: nausea, light-headedness, headaches, migraines, tooth pain, especially in those with metal fillings, blurred vision, visual and auditory hallucinations, reddening of skin or sudden rashes, miscarriage in the case of pregnancy, seizures..."

  Simone's attention drifted from the broadcast, flowing from the soft touch of Horace's wing, then back out the window. It was getting dark, the sun just peaking over the horizon, mostly covered by the low band of clouds and the passing brush. The landscape was changing now, tangled woods filled with kudzu and bramble giving way to tall pines slanting towards a river valley.

  Each monolith stood alone, only a few small plants finding any purchase under the thick bed of needles and wide canopy. Her father turned down a country road, paved but barely, the cracks and potholes turning the smooth ride into a jouncing journey.

  She held Horace close, trying to keep face head from hitting the door, wondering how much time they had left. Lex had said 45 minutes or so when they were packing. How long had it been? Would they make it? She looked into the pines, eyes tilted up towards the great furry branches, and felt a line of cold trace her spine.

  Birds, great and small, raven and finch, were flying out from the needles, lifting into the sky in streams. For a moment they seemed to be coalescing, the thousands of individuals funneling into streams, giant dark tentacles with sharp points of feather and beak.

  Then they twitched, the huge mass jerking once, then twice. First to one side, then to another. Each tentacle began to turn in to the other, spreading out and forming a black spiral in the sky. The twitches became more frequent, more violent, until each tentacle shook and vibrated like sound waves in an active recording, the avian hive-mind translating a signal sent pulsing from the stars.

  Then the signal was in their car, blaring out from the radio, an emergency message.

  "Breaking: We've just received an alert from NASA of a large energy surge coming from the sun, indicating that the event is imminent. It will reach the Earth prior to previous estimates, likely breaching the atmosphere in the span of five minutes. If you have not found shelter already, do so now. Remember, stay away from any kind of glass or electrical device. Power surge is highly likely. Beyond that, all we can do is pray. From our studio in Richmond..."

  Simone braced as they took a sharp right onto a dirt road, one of the front tires dipping into a large pothole and splashed her window with muddy water. They drove up the short road lined with scattered trees to a small one-story house, standing isolated in front of a small creek aside from a small garage and large metal shed.

  A single truck stood in the small lot in front of the house, sitting high with oversized tires and a lift kit, so much mud splattered on the sides you could barely tell it was red in the failing light. Her father skidded in, barely letting the van stop before he put in park and jumped out, popping open the trunk and shoveling out bags as a tall white man in dirty clothes came out of the house.

  "Give me some bags and get inside, man. I don't know if y'all heard the radio, but shit's about to go down." He lurched around the open doors, nearly brushing Lex's head with his long beard as he reach around and grabbed a couple bags from her father.

  "Watch your mouth around the kids, Travis." Her mother scowled at the tall man before opening Simone's door and helping her out.

  Travis gave her one confused look then ran inside. Her mother took her over to the trunk, handing Simone her travel bag, then grabbing her own and closing the trunk as soon as Lex's fingers were clear. Her mother grabbed her hand tightly and practically dragged her inside, her tiny feet scraping the ground as she struggled to keep her footing.

  They shoved their way through the doorway, past side bathrooms and a hallway lined with photos and certificates, until they got to a long set of stairs that led down into a basement. She nearly tripped as they rushed down the stairs, Travis waiting behind them to close the door and lock it. At the bottom of stairs they dropped their bags, heart racing, breath coming in sharp inhales.

  She looked around the room, trying to ignore the little clock in her head. Three minutes? Two? It was dim with no overhead lights, but there were couple of battery powered lanterns sitting on tables, along with a myriad of candles positioned around the space. There were no windows, only walls of flat gray concrete. Tucked on one side of staircase was a workbench with several tools scattered on it, as well as a gun rack mounted on the wall holding a couple rifles, a shotgun, and about half a dozen pistols.

  On the other side was a toilet with a sink beside it, a railing mounted to the ceiling providing a track for the shower curtain that was bunched against the far wall. Her mother herded her and Lex to the back where a red fouton rested against the wall, a couple of cots set up on either side. She took her brother's hand and held tight as their mother enfolded them in her arms, her Father and Travis standing in front of them like shields.

  It began with light. The sun had fully set by the time they'd made it into the basement, and only a dim light shone from under the door at the top of the stairs. Travis must have cut the breakers, because none of his lights had been on, not even the floodlights that nearly blinded her each time she had visited his house. Now the dim slit of light was growing, a bright white with shades of blue and orange.

  It grew until the light shot out of the slit like a projector, bathing the back wall in a solid shine that slowly began to flicker. Then the battery powered lamps matched the outside light's intensity and flickered in time, before exploding in a flash of plastic and smoke.

  Bursts of yellow syncopated the flickering light, and Simone could hear the sound of light fixtures popping upstairs, glass rain tinkling against the hardwood floors.

  "That shouldn't be possible!" Travis' voice sounded scared, almost frantic.

  "I cut the fucking breakers, took out the damn fuses!"

  Her mother gave no admonishment, only hugged her tighter. Through the flashing light Simone caught sight of the closest candle, one mounted on a brass holder and set on the small table between herself and Travis, sheltered in Travis' shadow. It was flickering as well, waving about as if in a wind.

  The flame spouted and sputtered, flaring out with small bursts of green, purple, pink, red. Strange noises came from outside, a low rumbling like hundreds of animals on the move, mixed with howls and bleats of pure fear and confusion. Her skin broke out in gooseflesh and every hair outside of her scalp stood on end.

  A writhing energy pulsed into her muscles, setting her hands to shaking. Lex squeezed her hand harder, but the shaking only intensified. It worked its way up her arms and back and through her neck, settling in her spinal cord and spreading into the back of her head like a liquid hand.

  Her eyes rolled back and the shaking took her completely. She could hear the shouts of her brother and parents, trying to hold her body still, but she was elsewhere. The entire world was TV static, the roar of empty space and the flashing of black and white pixels.

  Images formed in the snow, fuzzy but visible. Great herds of animals, cow, sheep, pigs, breaking down their fences and taking to the woods. Fires reaching hundreds of feet high, swallowing cities. A man writhing on asphalt, others circled around him in the same state, bleeding from their eyes and ears. A single crow, perched on tree branch, staring out of the pixels and straight into her soul. It stayed completely still for a moment, its head cocked to the left, before it opened its beak and croaked:

  "Our eyes are open."