Epilogue

Hero's Call: Epilogue

The anchors on every news station were reporting the complete and utter breakdown of all digitally controlled systems on the east coast. Which was to say, a complete and utter breakdown of all systems. Destructo had made good on his plans and was shutting down the entire country city by city. No one knew exactly how long it would take before the entire country fell into darkness. One thing was for certain though, as the blackout moved inevitably westward, the whole country would be in the dark before the sun came up.

If it came up.

Nothing was past the realm of belief any longer.

Brooke Radcliff sat on her sofa watching clip after clip of riots breaking out in cities all over the east coast of the country. No one knew how many were dead or dying, how many crimes had been committed. It was impossible to know while the darkness consumed everything. She thought of her son and his friends, and her heart nearly stopped beating.

The lock and loading of a weapon came from behind her and she turned to see her husband, sweet, amiable Barton, holding an old hunting rifle that his father had given him. As far as she knew, he’d never taken it out of its case.

“What are you doing?” she asked him. Her words seemed to come from a mile away.

“This is our house,” he said, stolid determination on his face. “I have to defend it.”

“Barton, we can’t �"” but she never got to say what they couldn’t do. The phone rang and she immediately stopped speaking. Frantically she answered it after the second ring, not knowing exactly who she expected to be on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Mom?” Milo’s voice came through the receiver. Her hear leapt into her throat.

“Oh god, Milo,” she gasped, tears welling in her eyes. “Where are you? Come home now. We need you.”

“I can’t mom,” he told her, shouting over the sounds of commotion in the background. “It isn’t safe for you and dad if I’m there. I can’t come home until this is all over. I just wanted to call and tell you guys to get out of the house. You and dad go somewhere safe, anywhere. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going.”

“But, Milo,” she said, feeling the full weight of his words, “how will you know how to find us?”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line.

“I won’t,” Milo answered with finality. “Just go, mom. Please. I love �"”

The line went dead as all the electrical systems in the house failed, throwing Brooke and her husband into darkness. Brooke hung the phone up and stared into darkness in the spot her husband had been standing moments before.

“Barton,” she said, “that was Milo.”

“And?” he asked, fleeting hope tinged on his words.

“We have to go somewhere safe,” she told him. She tried to sound confident, but her words trembled. “No one can know.”

There was a brief pause that seemed to last an eternity.

“Pack a bag,” Barton said finally. “I know exactly where we can go.”

Brooke nodded even though there was no way Barton could see her. She walked slowly toward the stairs that would take her upstairs and to her bedroom. With each step, the hard reality of the situation crashed down on her like a tidal wave. The world was falling, had fallen. They were all in danger. No one was safe.

She blindly pulled clothes from the closet and dresser, stuffing them into an oversized duffle bag. Barton began doing the same thing only minutes after she had started.

“We have to go,” he said to her once his bag was full and zipped shut. The hunting rifle was slung over his shoulder.

He led Brooke downstairs and out the front door. Neither of them took a second to take one last look around the only house they’d ever owned. The house their son grew up in. When they had thrown their bags into the car and backed out of the driveway, the closing of the garage door and brought home the staggering reality of their situation. With it came the one thing that Brooke didn’t know if she’d be able to bear.

She’d never see her son again. For all she knew, Milo was already dead.