Nomad

Celeste looked back and forth at Ben and Roger. “And why would that be important, for God’s sake? It’ll be gone in a few hours. That’s what you said.”

 

 

“Because,” Ben said slowly, “if we know the exact trajectory, we can use modeling software to predict where the thousands of large and small asteroids and debris will be kicked out.”

 

“And if they might hit Earth.” Roger added.

 

“Exactly.”

 

“Assuming the planet doesn’t fall into the sun or freeze solid.” Roger took a deep breath. “I’ll go.” He glanced at the opening in the cave wall, to where Jess was. He sighed. “There’s nothing for me here, anyway.”

 

“I’ll go with you.” Ben squeezed Celeste’s hand. “You don’t know exactly where I put it. And two of us will be safer than one.”

 

Roger stared at Ben. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

 

Ben returned his gaze. “Tell me on the way. The longer we wait, the more chance that it’ll get destroyed.”

 

“Can’t it wait?” Celeste begged, holding his hand tight.

 

Ben shook his head. “This is important. We’ve got to get it.”

 

Roger got up from the table. “Let’s go.”

 

Celeste stared into Ben’s eyes for a long moment. “Be careful.”

 

“I will.” Ben stood, then leaned down to kiss his wife. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He stared at her. “Promise me you’ll stay here.”

 

Celeste nodded.

 

“Don’t tell Jess,” Ben added. “She’ll try to stop us.”

 

The tiniest of smiles tugged at the corners of Celeste’s mouth. “She’d just go herself.”

 

“Yes,” Ben laughed. “Yes, she would.”

 

Clapping Roger on the shoulder, Ben strode through the boxes, taking a turn into the left-hand tunnel, the one leading up into the main castle. Roger followed.

 

Celeste watched them go. Crunching thuds shook the ceiling and walls. Her hands shaking, Celeste took another sip of her tea and put the cup down. She stood, turning to grab a thin coat, and ran down the length of the cave, following Ben.

 

Leone came into the cave just in time to see her disappear up the stone staircase.

 

 

 

 

 

“Where are my parents?” Jess asked, walking in behind Leone.

 

“Out.” Leone pointed at the tunnel with the staircase leading up. “Sono andati lassù”

 

“They went out?” Jess pointed at the stairs, raising her eyebrows. “Why?”

 

“Non lo so.” Leone’s soot-streaked face creased up, his wisps of white hair matted against his glistening scalp. “I do not know”

 

Why would they go upstairs? Adrenaline flooded Jess’s bloodstream, the hair prickling on her exposed arms. She grabbed Leone. “We’ve got to go—”

 

A massive concussion rocked the ground, knocking Jess from her feet. She crashed into a wooden crate that split open onto her. The rumbling continued, burying Jess under a mountain of medical supplies spilling. She strained and scrabbled to get out. A wiry hand gripped and pulled her free.

 

Gasping for air, she pushed her way out of the pile, dragged by Leone. She rubbed her eyes. “Leone, help me, we need to…” She didn’t finish her sentence, but stood in dumb silence.

 

Half of the cave had collapsed, rocks and boulders crushing the crates on the other side of the room, the tunnel to the staircase gone.

 

“Mom!” Jess screamed. “Dad! Where are you?”

 

 

 

 

 

Ben struggled to his feet, dusting himself off and trying to quell the fear rising inside him. “Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine.” Roger groaned and pulled himself from a pile of rubble. Part of a wooden wall fell onto him. “Maybe we should go back, come later.”

 

Ben shook his head. “No, we need to do this.”

 

Hot wind blasted smoke and ash through the stable past the open door. Clicking on his headlamp, Ben stumbled forward. He coughed, almost gagged. The air was noxious, stank of rotten eggs and burnt wood. He pulled a cloth around his mouth, his lungs burning, his eyes watering. His headlamp cut a conical pool of light twenty feet in front of him before being swallowed by the gray-black soot swirling in the air. Pushing forward, he reached the door. “That was no quake.”

 

Outside was a hurricane of dark ash.

 

A boulder the size of a school bus had impacted the main structure of the castle, coming to rest between the main staircase and the two-story museum. In the dim light, it glowed faintly red. L’Olio, the three-thousand-year-old olive tree, remained, just in front of the smoking boulder-projectile. Its leaves were stripped off, but it still stood, naked and defiant.

 

“Let’s get this over with,” Ben wheezed as loud as he could.

 

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