Future Lost

17

“Not with them. The Militia are fanatics who care nothing for personal freedoms or about preserving culture. They demand order and kill anyone who disagrees with their command or steps out of line. Men are pressed into being soldiers, while women are forced to become breeding machines. We refuse to be ruled like that. There’s more to survival than just staying alive.” Dr. Campbell sits back down in her chair and runs a hand over her braids. “We used to trade with other independent groups, like the one in Santa Monica, but the Militia destroyed their refuge and forced their people to join them. I fear we might be next.”

“We won’t let that happen,” Paige says. Always the optimist, even in a world as dark as this one.

“That’s actually what I came to tell you,” Zahra says. “Jesse said you were here looking for Adam, so I hacked into the Militia’s computers and found a message mentioning a new recruit matching his description.”

“You think they took Adam?” I ask. “Why?”

Zahra snorts. “He’s a healthy nineteen-year-old male. Even if they didn’t know about his science background, they’d force him to join them. But since it’s Adam, I have a feeling there’s more to it than that.”

“You think the president wants him for something?” Paige asks.

“I wouldn’t be surprised. The message I intercepted was from the head of the Militia here in LA to the president.”

I glance between the two of them. “Why would the president want Adam?”

“Because he knows who Adam is—and when he is from,” Dr. Campbell says. “The president of West America is Vincent Sharp.”

I blink. “The CEO of Aether Corporation?”

“Yes. My former boss. He started a cultlike survivalist group up in Napa and somehow took over or destroyed the other militia groups and what remaining military the state had left. Now he controls most of the West Coast.”

Wow. And I’d thought this future couldn’t get any worse. But what would Vincent want with Adam? Why wouldn’t he return Adam to the aperture to make sure he went back to the present at the scheduled time?

“The Militia controls an air force base south of the airport,” Zahra says. “I believe that’s where they’re keeping Adam.”

I check my watch, counting the hours I have left in the future. “How do we get him out of there?”

Dr. Campbell shakes her head. “We don’t. Their base is highly fortified, and they have a lot more weapons and people than we do. Even if we sent everyone in our refuge to fight them, we’d be outnumbered.”

“We have to try. And you know I succeed because Adam is there when the Black Friday Virus hits.”

“Paige is our scout,” Zahra says. “If anyone knows a way in, it’s her.”

Paige rubs her chin as she considers. “There might be a way, but…”

“What?” I ask.

“It’s dangerous. A lot of people might die.” Paige glances at Zahra. “Including us.”

Zahra sits up straighter. “None of our lives matter as long as Elena and Adam make it back. The timeline will change as soon as they return to the present.”

“We don’t know that for sure,” Dr. Campbell says.

Paige slowly nods. “No, she’s right. We know it’s possible to change the future. We’ve seen it happen. We have to believe that Elena and Adam can fix all of this too.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes.” I clench my fists, filled with resolve. “I won’t let this future happen.”

02:55

I’m walking down the street, armed with only a dented baseball bat, in a postapocalyptic future with zombies on the loose. Let’s face it. I’ve had better days.

It’s okay though, because I have a plan.

Step one: Find Adam.

Step two: Get back to the present.

Step three: Prevent the end of the world.

Easy, right?

Paige and Zahra dropped me off on an empty road, and now I’m on my own, trying to get the attention of the Militia. And probably a few Infected at the same time.

A rattling sound from a nearby abandoned food truck draws my attention. The truck is faded orange and reads Pho Get about It, but the doors have been ripped off and the tires are flat. I grip my bat tighter, wishing I had my gun. Paige has it, since the Militia would only confiscate it from me. If all goes well, I’ll get it back soon.

A man with long, wild hair comes shambling out from behind the food truck. His glazed eyes fix on me, and then he darts forward. A flicker of fear rises in my stomach, but a burst of adrenaline overpowers it. He reaches for me, baring his teeth. I have no choice but to fight back.

I swing the bat at the Infected’s head. It connects with a sickening thump, and the guy stumbles but doesn’t go down. I hit him again. Blood goes flying onto my clothes, but I’m dressed like Paige, completely covered by coarse gray cloth except for my eyes and mouth. The clothes offer me protection from the unrelenting sun and wind, along with the Infected.

The guy drops to the ground, and I hit him one final time with the bat to make sure he won’t get up again. I try not to look too much at his mangled features, at the blood I’ve spilled on the sidewalk, at his brains leaching out of him. My stomach twists at the gore, but I don’t feel guilty. It was him or me, and I’m not dying today.