Dead Ringer

Chapter One

The smell of something burning dragged Livvy out of her tattered gardening magazine. Setting it aside, she saw curls of smoke lazily creep under her bedroom door. Her heart rose in her throat, and she forced herself to breathe normally. This was not the time to panic.

Atlantis’s fire protocol required everyone to gather in the common room. She shot a mournful look at the pots of geraniums she’d pilfered from the nursery and steeled herself. She opened her bedroom door, and instead of the hot orange fireball reminiscent of ones she had seen in movies, all she saw was smoke. Smoke, not fire, she reassured herself. Maybe it hadn’t spread too far, then. The residents might not have to try to brave the elements on what was left on the Earth’s surface. The smoke was thick in the corridor and she coughed, dropping to her knees, where the air was marginally better. She spotted Bryan and Ty a few feet ahead, also on all fours.

The common room’s the other way, she said.

Bryan didn’t answer her. We’re getting out. Follow me.

Out could only mean one place. We can’t go out! she protested. It’s toxic outside! Atlantis was a safe zone; the only people who could go to the surface were the members of the council, who came and went in white biohazard suits.

Livvy, it’s all a lie, Ty began, but Bryan cut him off.

We’re leaving, he reiterated.

But we don’t have suits! she protested. The outside air will kill us!

Bryan and Ty stared at one another for a long, agonizing moment. Livvy heard a scream come from another room, followed by a loud bang. We’ll die if we stay here, Bryan said. He coughed and dropped a little lower to the floor until his belly was almost level with the tiles. Let’s go!

Ty and Livvy followed Bryan through the corridor. The smoke grew thicker, and Livvy worried about where the fire had originated, if they were heading into it. Where are we going? she asked.

Outside, snapped Ty.

Livvy wasn’t sure there would be enough bio suits for the sixteen people currently in residence. The only ones in Atlantis belonged to the council, and they were kept under lock and key.

I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t. Livvy could stay here and choke to death on the smoke, or she could choke to death on the air outside. It was one of the phrases Bryan had been spouting lately, much to the irritation of the council. He’d picked it up from a book of short stories, published before Earth died in a nuclear explosion.

Livvy wanted to see the surface before she died.

Bryan halted, making Livvy crash into Ty’s backside. Don’t look, he cautioned. A tremor of fear shook his voice for the first time. Of course, Livvy had to look, and she immediately regretted it.

Kent lay against the corridor wall, his eyes open but seeing nothing. A single hole marred his high forehead. His standard-issue grey uniform was dirty, the shirt torn. Livvy screamed before she could stop herself.

Heavy footsteps sounded through the corridor, followed by shouts. Livvy recognized the voices of Councillor Glazer and Dr. Rhodes.

Maybe they can help us, she said urgently and started to turn around.

Bryan turned stricken eyes to her and Ty. No! he said harshly. Don’t you get it? They’re doing this! He quickly ran his hand over Kent’s face, closing their friend’s eyes. Let’s go. At Livvy’s hesitation, he added, "Do you want to get shot? Let’s go!"

She didn’t have to be told again. She followed Bryan and Ty until they stopped at the council chambers. The smoke was much heavier, and Livvy took shallow breaths. She didn’t have access to the council chambers, but Bryan did, as the current elected representative of the Atlantis residents. He jerked a set of keys from his uniform pocket and stood up, leaving only his legs visible over the smoke. Over the far-off cries of other residents and awful popping noises, Livvy heard the jangle of metal and Ty’s panicked, "Hurry up!"

The office door opened, and they tumbled inside. Bryan slammed it behind them and locked it, then jammed a chair under the handle for good measure. Mercifully, the room was almost free of smoke, but Livvy knew that wouldn’t last long. What about the others? she asked, damning the fright in her voice.

Ty shook his head. There are other escape points. He swallowed hard. And not everyone will get out alive.

Bryan opened a storage closet door and dug around in it. He tossed a bunch of biohazard suits to the floor, kicking a helmet in a childish fit of pique. In here, he said. We don’t have much time.

Heavy knocking on the door made all three of them jump, and the booming voice of Dr. Rhodes yelled out, Goddamn it, open up or I’ll shoot this down!

In here, Bryan ordered them again, jerking on their arms. Livvy and Ty stared at the door, frozen. There’s a secret exit through the closet.

Won’t we need suits? Livvy asked.

Bryan whirled around and gripped her shoulders. Listen to me, Livvy. There is nothing wrong with the surface. We’ve been lied to our whole lives. We need to get out of here, now.

A vicious kick at the door made the chair shake against the knob. I’m damned if I do… Okay, she said weakly.

Bryan uncovered a door behind a false wall of the closet. It opened into a dark hallway narrow enough so they had to walk through in single file. Tiny green safety lights lined the walls.

They stopped at a dead end, with only a metal ladder leading up, starting a couple of feet off the floor. Bryan and Ty didn’t hesitate to climb on, and only the thought that there was a madman behind them made Livvy follow suit. As they ascended, she contemplated whether it would be worse to die of smoke inhalation, be shot to death, or suffocate on the toxic surface of the Earth. She couldn’t help it.

Ty stopped so suddenly that Livvy’s head bumped his feet. Above her, she heard Bryan cursing as he fiddled with something. Got it, he announced. The squeal of metal on metal made her cringe.

Light filled the tunnel, and it nearly blinded Livvy when Bryan and Ty hopped out of…whatever it was. When she climbed out, she saw it was a hole in the ground, surrounded by sand, brown grass, and scrubby plants.

She was on the surface.

She blinked against the light and took a few deep breaths of warm, dry air. She turned around to see a nondescript house, with a rickety wooden porch and boarded-up windows. There was no sign of Atlantis anywhere.

Don’t just stand there! Bryan yelled. "Run!"

She didn’t have time to think about her new circumstances. There was a paved road leading away from the house, and she dashed behind Bryan and Ty, legs pumping as hard as they could. Her throat burned from the smoke and she desperately wanted some water, but she didn’t stop. She could see a group of houses in the distance, shimmering in the heat like a mirage. Maybe it was.

Did anyone else get out? she huffed, catching up to Ty.

Don’t know. There are different escape routes for different people. He greedily sucked in a lungful of non-toxic air. We’re heading for the town. He pointed ahead. Less chance of being shot.

"Hey!"

The three of them stopped and turned around. Saul and Mandy, their Atlantis greys smudged with grime, ran behind them. They must have had a harder time getting out.

They’re not following us yet, Saul reported.

You sure? Ty asked.

Saul nodded. I think we were the only ones to get out. He closed his eyes and Livvy saw his throat work. When he opened his eyes again, his voice was calm and steady. We blocked off the exit we used, the one off the kitchen. I think they got to the rest before everyone else could escape.

The rest of the people or the rest of the exits? Both, Livvy figured. She looked down at the weeds growing between the cracks in the asphalt, and the spiky plants that lined the road. Anything to get her mind off her friends dying in Atlantis.

We need to keep moving, Bryan said. His eyes were dry, but Livvy saw his jaw clench. He was enraged, and he needed an outlet for it.

Bryan took off at a hard, pounding run down the road. Everyone else followed. Livvy noticed the tear tracks running down Mandy’s cheeks, and she had to wipe her own eyes.

I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t.

I don’t want to leave, Sasha groused. This is bullshit.

Asher had lost track of the number of times his sister complained about the evacuation order. He agreed with her, but listening to her whine was nearly as irritating as being forced to leave their house.

Olivia Hauser’s dropping a new album, she continued. I have to send in my fluff piece to my editor tonight.

We’ll close the curtains and leave the lights off, he reminded her. No one will know we’re here. Half the neighbors are probably doing the same thing. There were only so many false alarms he could withstand before he started to ignore the evacuation warnings. Today marked the first time he and his sister would wilfully skip out on one. The speakers installed on utility poles outside continued to wail, and he sighed, knowing it was going to be much noisier once they left the house. He could already feel a headache starting. We’re out of aspirin, too. Damn it!

I have to write captions for her mugshot collection.

Huh? Asher was thinking about this stupid plan to sneak back into their own house, and how much he hated living in a town that had frequent evacuation orders. They might have been forgivable had an earthquake or alien invasion occurred, but nothing ever happened.

Olivia Hauser, Sasha reminded him. The JulesTalks blog wants me to write captions for all eight of her mugshots. Funny ones, they said. Asher could practically hear her roll her eyes. He felt like doing it himself, but for different reasons. He didn’t care about stupid celebutantes and their mugshots.

Asher double-checked the locks on the windows and pulled the drapes shut. He and Sasha grabbed their backpacks loaded with toiletries and a change of clothes and left the house, bolting the door behind them. He winced at the sound of the alarm and saw Sasha do the same.

This is fucking ridiculous, she snarled. I hate this place. We have to get out of here. She adjusted her backpack’s straps. "Last time it was three days. Three days! I need to be home to work."

Asher didn’t bother to remind her that he was in the same position. We’ll be back home soon and we can finish up those projects, he promised. The money that their work would earn—provided they could actually turn everything in on time—would bring them that much closer to their plan of getting the hell out of Strike. For some frustrating reason, the town’s bunkers didn’t have access to the Net, and therefore the outside world; otherwise, he and Sasha would have sucked it up and brought their computers along.

They walked a few feet behind their neighbors. Sasha lit a cigarette. It earned her more than a few dirty looks, and a couple of people picked up their pace to get away from her.

That’s a real one? Asher asked.

Only Pink Singles, she reported, holding out the pink filtered tip for him to see the brand before taking a deep drag. My favorite.

I thought you quit smoking the real ones. He knew she had lit it so people would leave them alone, but it still rankled him. It was an expensive habit, one Sasha couldn’t afford, plus there was that whole health issue.

She ignored him. I’ll use my electric one when we get home.

They slowed down after a few blocks and turned into Strike’s only shopping plaza, a sad L-shaped structure. Its parking lot was half-full, mostly vehicles belonging to nearby residents who took advantage of the free parking. The plaza housed a bowling alley, a liquor store, a Dunkin’ Donuts, and a bank with bars on the windows. Sasha tossed aside her cigarette and they kept walking.

They slipped into the alley behind the plaza, hiding behind the doughnut shop’s Dumpster when they heard voices a little too close to them.

Let’s stay a minute, Asher suggested. The alarms still blared, but they sounded further away. Neither of them could afford to be ticketed by a cop if they were caught going home before they were allowed. Asher felt like a little kid again, hiding from their mother when she tried to drag him and Sasha to church.

Do you think we can go back yet? his sister asked irritably.

Not for the first time, Asher cursed the wide-open desert wasteland where they lived. He and Sasha hadn’t meant to end up in rural Arizona; it just sort of happened. There weren’t any woods to cut through and hide them when he and Sasha eventually made their break for home—just miles of scrubby grass, sand, and cracked roads. Someday, we’ll get out of here, he reminded himself. They couldn’t return to New York, of course, but Los Angeles could be tolerable, or Boston. Hell, even Tucson was starting to sound appealing.

He peeked around the Dumpster, and he saw