Three silver balls land a few feet away from him. Once they stop rolling, smoke pours from tiny holes in their casings. The smoke is so thick that Zack has a hard time seeing. A mechanical spider drone comes flying through the smoke and attaches itself to Zack's right arm with a painful clawed grasp. Zack tries to pull free, which only deepens the pain. Jim starts wriggling out from underneath his son.
Zack blindly shoots energy into the smoke as he wrestles his Dad with one arm and the drone with the other. He rips off his father's headband as Jim slips loose and runs into the underbrush. "John, I'm free!" Jim shouts.
Buchanan emerges from the brush, and the two men sprint toward the base. Buchanan stops abruptly and falls onto his back. "What happened? Are you okay?" Jim asks, extending his hand to help Buchanan up.
"I hit an invisible wall," Buchanan grunts. "It's Olivia! Move!"
Jim looks around for his daughter as he pulls the Doctor to his feet. They're immediately knocked back down to the ground by a sudden force. They look up to see Zack and Olivia standing above them, grinning.
"Game over, old guys!" Olivia shouts.
❖❖❖
Dr. Buchanan hands Jim a glass of whiskey, neat. Jim, who's sitting in an armchair, reaches out slowly to avoid a flare-up of pain from his ribs, and takes the drink. "Thank you," he says as he eases back into the chair.
"I think we can officially say we will never defeat your kids again," Buchanan says wryly. "Zack has become a true chess player, always anticipating moves and adapting rapidly to unforeseen circumstances."
"All the credit goes to you, old friend. Cheers!" Jim says, lifting his glass.
Buchanan takes a sip of his whiskey and sighs heavily. "How are you and Isabella handling the stress of the upcoming election? All signs point to the Ucte getting seats in the UN Assembly for the first time."
"It's been stressful. I don't know what we'll do. I wish we were in my grandfather's times, when we the people had a vote."
"Have the kids said anything?" Buchanan asks.
"They're kids. They're just worried about high school. Plus, it's not like we've been completely honest with them."
Buchanan puts down his drink on the coffee table between them. "Once the Ucte get seats in the Assembly, it'll just be a matter of time before they get the majority. Once that happens, we must tell your children the truth."
"I know, but then what? It won't change the fact of who they are, and there's nowhere we can hide them."
"Don't be too sure. You know we can't believe everything the government tells us. There are rumors that parts of the West are still habitable, out toward Nevada and beyond."
"My family and I were part of the last great migration to the East," Jim says skeptically. "We left California because the land had completely dried up and earthquakes and fires had become daily occurrences. Believe me, the West is uninhabitable. I witnessed it with my own eyes."
"I'm just saying it's something we should investigate," Buchanan says quietly. "It's been decades since the last great migration. Many of my unregistered Euperian patients talk about a secret underground route to the West, where small communities have been created by refugees of all kinds, following the laws this country had before the Great War."
"You mean before the human race tried to commit suicide. And failed even at that."
Buchanan remains silent as he moves to top up their drinks.
❖❖❖
Fourteen-year-old Jim Parker searches through the shattered kitchen cabinets, looking for food. Nothing. He takes a small towel from his back pocket and wipes the sweat from his forehead. He then picks his way through the debris of the house, looking for anything of value. He comes to the partially collapsed stairs and decides it's not worth the risk. He's seen a person die that way.
"Find anything?" Janet Parker shouts.
Jim opens the front door and rejoins his mother on the sidewalk. "It's been stripped bare," he says, wiping more sweat from his forehead. "Hot as hell in there."
"We found some canned tuna," Janet says. They pass a group across the street who are standing in a circle and shouting at each other. "Guess they came up empty," she remarks.
The sun is setting when they arrive at camp. They empty their bags and turn in their harvest at registration, receiving their food and water rations for the next day. Jim and his mom return to their tent, when Janet walks over to her husband, Oliver, and kisses him hello. "Any trouble on your patrol today?" she asks.
"Nope. It was too hot for anyone to cause trouble." Oliver nods at his son. "How are we looking for the crossing?"
"It's going to be difficult, but we'll make it," says Janet. "Let's finish packing; tomorrow's going to be a long day."
After his parents finish packing and lie down on their cots, Jim lifts his head and checks to see whether they're asleep. He takes his pillow and grabs a book from inside the pillowcase. He quietly gets up, puts on his shoes, and exits the tent. He pauses, and closes his eyes to feel the breeze. He walks quickly to the other side of the camp and sees his friend Mark sitting on top of a burned-out car.
"I thought you weren't coming tonight," Mark says.
"Sorry. We were packing."
"You're actually going? After what happened to the last caravan, my parents decided to wait a bit longer."
"Yeah, Dad thinks it's now or never," Jim says, sitting next to Mark. He takes an atlas from his pocket and traces the route from Kansas to Illinois with his finger.
"Do you miss San Francisco?" Mark asks.
"I sure miss the weather," Jim replies, wiping his face with his shirt. "Until the wildfires started. And the earthquakes."
"Well, I hope you make it to the border." Mark lies back on the hood and sighs.
"We'll make it. And my parents
