PROLOGUE
It started as a worldwide catastrophe on a day that seemed as normal as any other.
The year was 2056, when a meteor cloud suddenly appeared in space, becoming visible only as it approached Earth. It was traveling at an astonishing velocity.
All of Earth’s astrophysicists marveled. They had never seen an astronomical event like it. Their amazement quickly turned into alarm, which spread through the scientific community nearly as fast as the meteor cloud approached the Earth’s atmosphere.
Scientists attempted to assess the cloud, but they were unable to see into it. Space shuttles and satellites were launched toward the approaching cloud to determine its chemical composition and measure the size of the meteors.
But the speed of its approach was much faster than had been calculated by the world’s finest scientists. Before any satellite could approach it, the satellites failed, losing all power—some even exploding as the cloud engulfed them.
Before shuttles could be launched, the world’s space station exploded.
Everyone watched with growing fear and horror as total darkness spread quickly across the sky.
With no way to stop the cloud, all the world’s governments targeted the biggest meteors they could with their missiles. Citizens watched in shock as millions of rockets filled the sky.
But there were millions of tiny meteors, none of which seemed bigger than twenty to fifty feet across. Nonetheless, missiles were launched, hoping they would help destroy the biggest before they hit Earth.
To everyone’s dismay, as soon as the missiles left Earth’s atmosphere and neared the meteor cloud, they too seemed to fail. Occasionally, one would burst into flame as if its fuel had exploded. None of the missiles reached their targets.
The world’s leading scientists all confirmed this while government officials sought bomb shelters. The scientists quickly assured their governments that there should be no significant impact damage, as most of the meteors they could see would likely burn up upon entering Earth’s atmosphere.
But even they were worried, for the chemical components in the meteor cloud were unknown, and they were asking the same questions as their governments:
Why had their satellites stopped working before the cloud had enveloped them? Why—and what—had caused all the fuel to explode and destroy the space station before the cloud had enveloped it? And why had not one missile reached its target?
Those questions went unanswered as the meteor cloud quickly surrounded Earth and entered its atmosphere.
CHAPTER ONE
Day One: Impact, July 1st
National Park, Wyoming Border Derek looked up, his eyes flashing with confusion as the once-blue sky above him suddenly darkened. A second later, he felt a sudden chill cross his skin, giving him goosebumps. Surprised, he rubbed his arms and felt frustration build in his mind.
The weather report he had watched yesterday on TV had said there was not supposed to be a cloud in sight for the rest of the week. That was one reason his parents decided to drive to the park last night so they could camp for the entire week.
I hope it doesn’t rain, he thought.
After eight hours of riding in the RV to get there, he was glad to be roaming through the forest. The last thing he needed was for it to rain— because then he would have to take shelter in the RV with his parents, which he wanted to avoid after the long drive.
Looking up at the sky with frustration, he was met with a sight that mystified and bewildered him. There was not a cloud in sight. Yet, while he watched, the light-blue sky slowly darkened, and a cold, cruel wind began to buffet him. The wind picked up, whistling through the trees, blowing hard enough to rip leaves from their branches.
A little unsure of what was happening, Derek turned around and began racing through the forest toward his family’s RV. A second later, he could see his dad through the RV’s windshield. He was waving frantically for Derek to get in, calling him back.
Before Derek could run faster, the wind blew hard against his back. It hit him like a wall—so hard he was pushed forward, his feet tripping over a root. His racing through the forest was brought to a sudden halt as he slammed face-first into a tree, leaving his head ringing.
He grabbed his forehead in pain and looked up just in time to see the same wind that had hit him race along through the forest, disturbing leaves, weeds, and trees until it hit and rocked the RV, which then, to his vast horror, exploded into a ball of fire.
The rushing wind around him suddenly turned into a heavy pressure that squeezed him tightly, emptying his lungs of all air. He felt as if he were deep underwater. His eyes bulged out at the pressure, watering from the horror of seeing the RV explode with his parents still in it.
The pressure in his lungs kept growing until he felt he might cough them up. He struggled for a breath, staggering against the tree as his head began ringing even worse than when he had hit it.
A second later, he was on his back, clenching his throat with both hands as he frantically tried to draw a breath of air. His eyes began seeing silver spots, and he knew he was going to pass out.
His last thought was of his parents. On his hands and knees, he crawled toward the burning RV. The last thing he saw was shooting stars piercing the completely dark sky. A second later, he passed out.
He awoke sometime later, choking on thick, sandy dust. He sat up coughing and flinched in fear as something fell with a whistle of air and slammed into the ground only a few feet from where he was sitting on the forest floor.
A little terrified, he shot to his feet. Leaning against a tree dizzily, his eyes were wide open, but he could only see darkness. He could hear the sound of air screaming, though, and looked up to see bright traces of light falling out of the pitch-black sky, slamming with thunderous force upon the ground.
Gasping for breath, his chest heaving from the effort, he pushed away from the tree and looked around for shelter. The only thing he could see through the thick black dust was the still-burning remains of his family’s RV.
The sight gripped him with fear, stopping him dead in his tracks. Traumatized, he began shaking, unable to move or take his eyes off the RV. Its doors were still closed, which told him the worst was true. His parents had never made it out.
Unable to believe that, he stumbled forward.
“Mom! Dad!” he choked out, looking frantically around for them.
A flash of light blinded him, leaving a flare in his eyes, as something fell from the ash-black sky and crashed into the ground right at his feet.
The force of it tossed him off the ground and through the air until he slammed hard into a tree. He slid to the ground, holding his side in pain while trying to catch his breath through the lungfuls of soot and ash he was breathing in. The air felt thick and weird in his lungs, making him struggle even to get a breath.
When he tried to open his eyes again, all he could see was a dark blur. He had to rub and blink his eyes to get them clear enough to see again. Then he could only see the light of fire. The air was filled with soot and ash, making it impossible to see anything.
By the time he got to his feet again, using the tree to haul himself up, his eyes were able to focus a little more. In front of him, upon the forest floor, was an enormous crater, and in the center of it lay a glowing red chunk of what looked like dirty ice, with burning pieces of metal in it.
It took a while to get his feet under him again this time. With his whole body shaking, he pushed himself away from the tree. He could feel the ground trembling under his feet from each jarring impact, and he looked up to see the sky full of angry red streaks that fell from the black sky like fiery rain.
What was happening? He wondered with growing fright. Had the moon blown up? He thought wildly, close to becoming hysterical.
He shook his head, trying to clear it of the ringing he could still hear, and again his eyes caught sight of his family’s R.V. He felt tears quickly well in his eyes and stubbornly rubbed them away, leaving black streaks across the backs of his hands. Touching his eyes made them burn and water even worse than before. But it did not distract him from the fact that he now knew both of his parents were dead. The R.V. was no longer standing upon its wheels; it had been hit and thrown by a meteorite and was now lying half crushed upon its side.
Smoke from the R.V. filled the already thick black air. There was also smoke coming from the ground, though he could no longer see any fires burning, just smoldering embers. Not even the R.V. was on fire anymore.
He looked around, wondering where he should try to hide, but he could see nothing to hide under besides the trees. While he looked, he noticed that all of the meteorites were falling at a slant and that if he could make it closer to the mountain, he could use the mountain’s lee to hopefully protect him from most of the onslaught. The mountains he saw were protecting certain areas from the meteors. And if he could make it to one of those areas, he would likely be safe. At least safer than standing in the forest with only trees to protect him.
He hesitated, though, suddenly afraid to leave the trees. The meteorites were falling fast and hitting hard. Leaving the trees, he would be out in the open without even trees to stop a meteor. Not that even the tree he was up against was any better cover than open air, he thought bitterly. The meteors were just bursting through anything they hit, but not the mountain.
A loud, piercing scream filled the air. Then the ground trembled beneath his feet, shaking the tree beside him and making it lose the last of its leaves. It was so close to him that he immediately began to run.
That one was too close, he thought in sheer panic, as he ran with all of his might, gasping for breath and choking on each breath he took. He left the tree behind, lurching in a stumbling run as the ground beneath him shook again from an even larger impact. He held his shirt over his nose, trying not to breathe in the soot filling the air as he ran towards the mountainside.
Within steps, he was hunched over, coughing and spitting out soot. He began coughing so badly that he collapsed to the ground, retching up his stomach as he tried to breathe. He knew he could not stay like this. The meteors were falling everywhere, and the odds were that he would be hit long before he would ever catch his breath. He forced himself up again and ran blindly towards the mountainside and its protective lee.
It wasn’t long before he stumbled and slid head-first into a large crater. His skin on his arms burned where it touched the hot ground. He could feel a fierce heat in front of his face and looked up to see a red-hot meteor inches in front of his face.
The smell of his hair burning as he landed in front of the hot meteor jerked him onto his feet yet again, this time with a cry of pain. Then he ran out of the crater, patting his hair to ensure it wasn’t on fire.
He had to stop again to get a breath and calm his coughing—dry-heaving when he couldn’t.
When he finally made it up into the lee of the mountain, he collapsed upon the ground, gagging on all the dust in his throat and lungs, and shivering in the cold air blowing around him, which seemed to be getting colder by the second.
What am I going to do? He asked himself worriedly as his initial panic began to subside a little.
Above him, the sky was filled with streaking meteorites as far as he could see. Red streaks filled the sky. He could feel the thumping and rumbling beneath him as they impacted the ground. The sight terrified him.
He curled himself in a ball, trying not to cough, as he wedged himself under a rock shelf, trying to stay warm as he watched more and more meteors appear in the dark sky.
He was unsure how long he had slept, but he was jerked awake again as a meteor fell close to where he was hiding under a rock. When he lifted his head, he saw it had hit right in front of the mountain. The crater it left was at least a hundred yards across. Its impact threw up so much dust and ash that he began choking immediately, feeling the small, stinging bits of hot pebbles slicing into his skin and causing him to come instantly awake—only to pass out again when he could not breathe through the cloud of ash that enveloped him.
This time, it was a slow process when he came to awareness. He felt so tired and weak, yet he couldn’t stop coughing. His shivering from the absolute cold was what stirred him awake. He knew almost immediately that if he did not move, he would freeze to death. Yet he was too terrified to leave the rock he was under. He felt a meteorite would hit him if he left the mountain’s shelter.
So, he lay curled up and shivering for a long time until it dawned on him that he no longer felt the Earth trembling beneath him as violently as it had. And hesitantly, as if afraid of what he might see, he opened his inflamed, burning eyes and looked around.
The bite of the cold air sent his body shivering uncontrollably, and he almost regretted lifting his head to look around. It was so dark that he could not see anything but pitch-black night. As if that were a comfort, he slowly sat up, looking around harder, trying to pierce the surrounding darkness, until he could see that somewhere in front of him, seen only dimly through the black haze filling the air, there was a soft glowing light—and with it came the feeling of heat.
Almost instinctively, he found himself moving toward it. The feel of its heat made the air around him seem so cold that it was hard for him to start moving. Breathing the cold air itself made his sore and swollen lungs hurt painfully. Getting to his feet made him instantly lightheaded and dizzy. He had to use the rock to pull himself up, one of his arms holding his side, trying to keep it from hurting even worse.
Once on his feet, he put his shirt over his mouth and nose. Doing so exposed his skin to the cold air, causing him to feel as if he were freezing where he stood. As soon as he started moving, though, he did not allow himself to stop. The dark haze obscured the air between him and the glowing object, keeping him from seeing what was causing the glow and heat.
It was not long before he realized that he had stumbled into the large crater that had been made right in front of where he had taken shelter. His first thought was to get out of it, but he knew that whatever had caused the crater was making the glow and heat, and he was reluctant to leave the warmth he could feel just up ahead of him.
Clenching his side, he stumbled through the crater until he could finally make out the red glowing meteor through the black haze in the air. The closer he got, the warmer he felt. But the smell of the air in the crater was so nauseous that it caused him to dry heave, then choke as he took in lungfuls of soot and ash from off his shirt.
The heat from the meteor was intense, warming him to the core as he approached it. The air blowing at his back was ice-cold compared to it.
The meteor itself seemed to be melting slowly while he watched. It appeared he watched it for hours. When he first saw it, it was over four feet around, but as it melted, it shrank in size until all that was left was a glowing red piece of rounded metal.
He wondered if it was radioactive, but he quickly pushed that thought out of his mind. If it were, then he would have to worry about that later. Right now, his survival was all that mattered. He knew he would freeze to death without the warmth this meteor was bringing him. It was the only source of heat he had. He crouched down six feet away from it, soaking up its heat. It felt like a giant campfire. While it melted, the glow it gave off subsided a little, but it remained bright enough to give him enough light to look around through the haze and see the devastation the falling meteorites had caused. Not that he could see much. The darkness pushed in around him as much as the thick air did.
The pressure in his lungs had not lessened at all. It was as if the whole composition of the air had changed with the falling of the meteorites. And he wondered why no one had known there would be such a meteor shower, and why there had been no warning.
That made him think about his parents again, and he held back his tears as he searched with one hand for his phone. Once he found it, he turned it so he could see it, but the display was blank, and it remained blank as he tried to turn it on. And no matter what he tried, he could not get any light, sound, or anything. It was useless.
His hand got cold quickly, so he put the phone away and huddled closer to the meteor—or what remained. It was now only a foot around, nestled into the ground like a top, tilted on its side. It was still glowing red, but he could see that it was a red and silver combination. It looked like some red metal with silver streaks twirling around it.
Just then, another chill spread through his body, making him shiver, and a second later, all of his vision was obscured as a fierce cold wind came howling through the mountains, swirling ash and soot up from everywhere, making him move closer to the meteor for its heat. He crouched protectively over it as he heard a piercing whistle screech through the air. The sound caused him to freeze in fear.
Meteors! he thought frantically. What was he going to do? If he left the heat of the meteor, he knew he would freeze to death within an hour. But he also knew there was no way he could stay here with meteorites falling all around him.
Without thinking, he took off his shirt and threw it over the meteor, hoping it would not burn. He heard it fizzle and quickly pulled it off to see if it had burned. He saw no burn marks through the dust covering his shirt, so he tossed it back on the meteor again. Then, bunching the excess shirt in his hands to hopefully shield them from the meteor’s heat, he bent and touched it. He hissed in pain as it burned him, but the pain was not bad—not as bad as dying, he thought. He picked it up with a little struggle, then began making his way out of the crater, laughing and wheezing all the way.
He began to move just in time. Streaks of red light began to fill the dark sky, and the Earth again began to tremble under each impact.
The meteor was a lot heavier than a rock should be. Its weight pushed heavily upon his hands. He could feel its heat easily through his shirt as he tripped, stumbled, and coughed all the way back to the little shelter he had found. Once there, he wedged himself in, putting the glowing meteor between him and the frigid air.
That done, he surveyed his shirt. Much to his great relief, there was not a burn mark upon it, just tons of soot and ash. He quickly put it back on, then, coughing, he began to nurse his burnt hands, rubbing them tenderly.
Outside his shelter, the meteorites continued to fall at an alarming rate, but none of them even came close to where he was. After watching for a minute, he uncurled his hands to see how burnt they were. His fingertips and palms were in pain, but he could not see any blisters forming under all the soot covering them. He flexed his hands a few times and winced in pain, bringing on a spasm of coughing.
When his coughing stopped, he put his shirt back over his nose, then crouched close to the meteor, absorbing its warmth and wondering, as he did, how long its heat would last—and why it was still glowing.
Unable to ascertain an answer, he put his mind to other things and sat down to study the meteor. He could not even imagine what it was made of, but it was beautiful and shiny. No soot seemed to be able to cling to it. It looked like a metal device of some sort. The streaks twirling around it were giving off the glow he saw. Its light bounced off the metallic red of it and gave it a reddish glow. From its almost rounded, cone-like shape, it looked like it had formed as it fell and spun into the atmosphere. But he knew that was not right, because all this part of the meteorite had been covered by the part that had melted off and dissolved.
He sat staring at it for what seemed like hours. The meteors slowly stopped falling again, and it wasn’t long after that when sleep found him again.
Day Two: July 2nd
Derek woke to a deep thirst. His throat was swollen and dry, and his tongue felt like sandpaper. He licked his lips and felt them crack open as he lifted his head from his shirt. He was more than a little surprised to still feel the warmth of the meteor next to him, keeping him warm.
He looked around, knowing that it must be daytime again, but it was still pitch-black outside, and he could only see a little area around him, thanks to the meteor’s glow. He studied it again curiously. Its glow was still the same, and it wasn’t noticeable if the warmth it had been giving off had dimmed. And that freaked him out a bit, as he knew it was not normal; there was no way it should still be glowing and giving off heat— not with how cold it was now in the open.
Feeling a little panicky, he pulled out his cellphone again and tried to turn it on or get it to work, but just by looking at it, he knew it was dead, as was his digital watch. Not even the compass on it seemed to be working right. It was pointing right at the meteorite in front of him, and followed it when he moved the watch around.
He frowned at the meteor and wondered, not for the first time, just how massive this meteor shower was and how much damage it was causing.
His dry lips made him keep licking them, and he knew as he continued staring at the strange meteor that he could not stay in the shelter. He needed food and water—mainly water. Yet he could not leave the shelter without the warmth and light of the meteor.
Thinking of picking it up again made him look down at his hands. They were both sore and tender to the touch, but he could not see a single blister through the grime covering them. He held one of his hands out to the meteor, testing its warmth, feeling it was still too hot to hold without something protecting his hands.
He hacked and coughed, spitting out clotty blood and ash. Then, shivering, he took off one of his shoes, pulling off a sock he tied it around his face over his nose so he could block out some of the dust and not breathe it all in. That done, he put his shoe back on.
He then took off his shirt again, bunching it around his hands so he could pick up the meteor. This time, holding it did not seem as bad. He could feel the heat through his shirt, but the pain was minor compared to last time.
With it firmly in his hands, he looked around, trying to pierce the darkness and see if he could spot any meteorites falling. Failing to see the telltale signs of red streaks of light shooting across the black sky, he hesitantly left the shelter of rocks in search of much-needed water. He walked slowly, using the meteor’s light to see the ash-covered ground so he didn’t trip or fall into a hole.
The problem he noticed immediately was that at least two feet of ash had covered the ground in most places. That fine ash seemed to float magically in the air like a giant black smog, blocking his vision. Just looking through it made him want to cough.
He stood still, ignoring the coughing spasm, then squinted his blurry, inflamed eyes so he could try to retrace his way back to his family’s RV. Each movement stirred the ash, making it harder for him not to cough on it.
He dreaded what he would see inside the RV, but it was the only place he could hope to find water and supplies—that is, if they were not all ruined beyond use.
He held the meteor close to his chest to stave off the frigid cold air surrounding him, making his whole body shiver uncontrollably. He cried out in pain and shock as the shiver caused his arms to pull the meteor all the way to his bare chest.
Two things happened at once. Pain ripped through his chest over his heart, making him almost drop the meteor, which had left a big, wicked- looking purple and bleeding welt upon his chest—so purple he could see it through the dark soot covering his skin.
The second thing was even more surprising and distracted him from the pain. After the meteor touched his chest, it vibrated softly in his hands. It stopped when he pulled it up to look at it curiously. He stared at it, trying to decide if he had just imagined its vibration. Then, thinking he had, he continued toward the RV, careful not to let the meteor touch his skin again.
It took him a long time to reach the ruined RV; it was totally destroyed. By the time he got there, he was wheezing for breath, and it took him a minute to gather enough nerve to walk closer to it. From the meteor’s light, he could see how the fire had warped it and where the meteorite had slammed into its side. What had not been burned by the explosion had to have been smashed by the meteorite.
Seeing it made him feel sick to his stomach. He stared at it hopelessly, feeling his eyes water. He did not want to look inside. It felt wrong to do so. He knew he had no choice if he wanted to live, though. He was in the middle of the park with nowhere nearby on foot. He had to find something to drink, or he would die of dehydration.
The RV was tipped onto its side. The meteor had hit the cab and engine full on, and while the back compartment was smashed in and warped by the fire, it looked like there might still be a chance to find something inside. The smell coming from it was so horrible that he began gagging as soon as he got close.
He choked down his tears and walked around the RV, finding a space big enough for him to crawl through. It was the smashed sunroof. Through it, he could get into the living area of the RV. Shivering, he put the meteor gently on the ground, and for some reason he could not understand, he found it hard even to let go. It was like his hands were glued to it with a mind of their own. He did not want to leave its warmth; without it, he would freeze. Yet he knew there was no way he could crawl through the broken sunroof with it in his hands. It was still too hot, and he did not want to touch it accidentally again. His chest still stung like fire from the meteor’s touch, and he did not want to feel that pain again.
He placed the meteor down by the opening in the sunroof where its light could still be seen when he entered the dark RV. Then he closed his eyes, put on his shirt, and tried to gather the strength to enter it—knowing what he would see when he did and not wanting to see it.
He rooted through the ash until he found a good fist-sized rock. Then, getting cold, he smashed the rest of the glass out of the sunroof so he would not cut himself crawling in and out. Once that was done, he bent over, wheezing and shivering, and looked inside the camper.
Everything within it was burnt to a crisp, and he could not stop himself from throwing up when he saw his mother’s nearly unrecognizable, crumpled body lying against one of the warped metal cabinets.
It took him a long time to calm himself so he would not throw up again. Then, gritting his teeth, tears running down his face, he took a deep breath and squeezed through the hole in the roof. The effort brought about a fierce bout of coughing and dry heaving as the smoke and smell tried to overwhelm him. It almost took him two minutes to get in.
He looked around and saw that all the cabinets had been made of metal. They were warped, but only a couple were open. Inside the camper, everything was black and melted. Hardly anything was recognizable.
He tried a few closed cabinets, but none would open for him. They were warped shut. So, he looked around until he found a metal piece from one of the windows, then he set about wedging them open one by one. The effort kept his shivers away, and when he was done, he surveyed what he had found: some canned food that wasn’t too damaged, bulging out as if it had been overcooked; some dry foods—noodles, cereals, and melted oatmeal bars.
All in all, he searched the camper for two hours, trying to salvage anything he could. He could only remain in the camper for ten minutes at a time before he had to return to the glowing meteor to get warm again. But he noticed it took him longer and longer to get cold, even though the temperature had not changed.
Everything he found, he set outside beside the meteor so it would not get lost in the ash.
He had found water in the RV’s water tank, but it had been so hot that he had to wait for it to cool off after pouring it into a warped cup for him to drink. Then he filled up three metal canteens with some before he drank some more. He used a pair of melted can openers to open a can of peaches, then a can of green beans, forcing himself to eat the foul- tasting, overcooked food. Those were the only two salvageable cans that had not exploded in the fire. He had not dared to save either one, for he had known they would spoil quickly.
Once back by the meteor, he looked around at everything he had been able to salvage from the RV: two halves of burnt blankets; a pair of his dad’s boots, which were a size too big for him but still in surprisingly good shape; a bunch of ruined electronics—a radio, phone, a half-melted flashlight, and a shakelite, which blew up in his hand when he shook it, giving him a nasty cut upon his palm. Not one of the electronics worked. He had heard of EMP bombs that could knock out electricity and keep all electronics from working, and he wondered if maybe that was what this meteor storm did. But how could it do the same thing?
He had found one of his father’s hunting and skinning knives in a partially burnt leather sheath. The gun safe had been melted too tightly to wedge open, and all the other knives he had found had melted hilts.
All his stuff had been ruined except for a leather jacket and one pair of jeans that had gotten slightly singed.
He had found the emergency supply box, and it seemed to be intact enough to bandage his palm and chest after he swabbed both with a semi-dry alcohol pad to clean them first.
He then used one of the burnt blankets to fashion a backpack, using his dad’s knife to cut strips for shoulder straps, then smaller strips to tie the blanket in a way so that it would be able to hold all of the things he would need to take with him.
When he was finished, he could distract himself no longer. He was filled with curiosity about the meteor. He sat staring at it, watching its steady glow. He could feel its heat in the pleasant warmth that seemed to wrap around him when he was near it, and over the last couple of hours, it appeared its heat could stay around him longer and longer. He knew it must have cooled enough by now for him to touch it. But then, it was not normal. No other meteorite he could see was glowing or giving off heat, nor did they even look like this one. He had looked around, picking up a couple of the smaller meteorites— all black, hard rock. Though some did seem to have little crystal-like structures in them, and some had melted metal, none had come close to this one in glow or heat.
Curious, he reached over, putting his hand near the red and silver meteor. Feeling its heat, it still felt as hot as it was when he found it, and he knew that could not be true. Before he could stop himself, he closed the distance and touched it with his hand.
He expected stinging hot pain, but a surprise came to him. A rush of warmth filled his body, and at his touch, the meteor began to vibrate warmly beneath his hand, shaking softly upon the ground it was lying on.
The warmth traveled up his arm and down inside of him, making his skin break out in an instant sweat. Beneath his palm, the meteor was hot but not unbearably so. He removed his hand to check it, and the second that his skin left the meteor, it stopped vibrating. And the warmth that had filled his body faded away, leaving him wanting to pick it up and hold it.
He hesitated to do so, though. As he studied it and tried to understand it, why had the meteor vibrated at his touch? Was it some kind of machine? Or, more disturbingly, was it alive? If not, was the vibration and warmth just some kind of chemical reaction to his touch?
Studying his hand beneath the soot and ash, it seemed okay, though his fingertips were still a little tender from the last time he had held it. Gathering his nerve, he reached out and touched it again.
This time, the meteor did not vibrate, but that instant warmth again pleasantly filled his body, fighting off all of his chills until he no longer felt the cold air anywhere on his body. It was as if the cold could no longer touch him. He looked down at the meteor with wonder, not understanding how it made him warm like he was—and not caring that it did. It was an incredible feeling after being so cold ever since the meteor storm began.
He curiously traced his finger lightly over one of the glowing silver spirals. He could feel it was no hotter than the rest, but it felt like smooth, slick metal. He traced it all the way to the top of the meteor, which was slightly rounded, and it felt like soft velvet. Touching it, he suddenly knew that, for some reason, this part of the meteor was softer than the rest—more fragile. The meteor vibrated as he touched that part, and suddenly grew too hot to touch.
Surprised, he removed his finger from the top and touched the silver spiral. He instinctively knew he had just been given some kind of warning, making him more curious than scared. The warning had been simple: Be careful with this part. He stared down at it almost in awe. He did not want to believe it, but he felt it was alive. He picked it up carefully in his hands and studied the top of it curiously. The top was pure red and seemed a shadeless, shiny metallic color compared to the bottom, but there was no seam to it; the meteor seemed whole.
Holding it, its warmth seemed to fill him until he could no longer distinguish between hot and cold. To him, it was just warm—like he was now the perfect temperature—and no amount of cold could change that.
The meteor kept his attention for a long time before he realized he was getting thirsty again and turned his attention back to the task at hand. He now had a little bit of food in his makeshift backpack: some jerky, nuts, and dried prunes that his mother had seemed to love, as well as some dry foods—noodles, cereal, and oatmeal (some of which had burned). He had already eaten the melted oatmeal bars. He had three full canteens of water and still a little left in the tank. He also had a bottle of water pills to clean any river water he might need to drink.
In his backpack, he had a skillet to cook with, a hunting knife, a couple of hiltless knives, a small pocket knife with all kinds of things in it, some burnt but salvageable clothes, a small blanket, a medical emergency box, and a flint fire kit with a box of matches.
He drank some more water from the tank and sat holding the meteor in his lap, wondering what he was going to do now that he was on his own—stranded in the national park without the slightest notion of where to go to get help, if there was anyone else alive he could find.
And looking up, he wondered how long it would be until he saw the sun again.
CHAPTER TWO
Location: Presidential Shelter, Unknown Location in Colorado “Sir, we have lost all power. The backup generators will not start, and the one that did start exploded. We have lost contact with everyone. We don’t know if it is just because the meteor cloud is obscuring everything or if, as Jean believes, some kind of element from the meteor cloud has rendered all electronics useless,” the tall, skinny, balding man facing the president told him before frowning in displeasure and continuing. “Sir, what’s more is that we cannot open the doors. They are all controlled electronically. There are manual overrides, but they’re hard to get to without power tools. For now, the doors are stuck. I’ve got men trying to take them apart now, because if we cannot get the power back on, we will have to leave this shelter. We have too many people here. The air will last close to 78 hours—then we will all be dead.”
The president, Markus Allumin, frowned at his secretary of state, his face showing worry. He ran his hands back through his greying black hair, and his blue eyes seemed to pierce Edwards as he studied the man who had helped him gain the office he held today. Then he motioned for everyone but his secretary to leave the office.
When they had all left, the president turned his back on Edwards to study the map behind his desk. In his hand, he held a couple of pieces of paper.
“We have both read this,” he told Edwards, “and I am willing to bet it is right on the money. If that is the case, then we both know no amount of tinkering you’re doing with the electronics of this place will get our power back on. Not now, and probably not fifty to a hundred years from now. Jean Perry is one of the most respected scientists in his field of study. He now believes that some kind of chemical in this meteor cloud has interacted with and neutralized all of the electrons on our planet. If that is the case, we have a severe problem getting our country through. No cars, planes, phones, or electronic gadgets will work anymore. Anything with gas explodes—just like our generator did—which was one of the things Jean speculated about in his report. And you heard the Secretary of Defense. No gun works. No bullet will fire, though some have exploded, rendering the gun useless.”
Frustrated, he turned back to Edwards, studying him critically. “We are going to go through the Dark Ages all over again. Those who survive this are going to need strong direction and protection. Jean estimates there will be nearly two feet of ash worldwide when all is said and done. We will be without sunlight for months. The temperature is going to plummet drastically. No crops are going to grow. People are going to starve. Some are going to turn to savagery. And our government system is going to collapse. So, from this second on, we start planning how to save our country.”
After Edwards left, Markus sat in his chair and slowly began to draft a plan that might save the country and help restore peace to the places where it would revert to savagery.
Day Four: July Fourth
Location: National Park, Wyoming Derek was walking down the same road he and his family had driven up just four days before the big meteor storm. Around him was nothing but darkness. Ash swirled in eddies as he walked through the haze in the air. Now and then, he would walk off the road and had to crawl on his hands and knees, sifting through the ash to find it again. Following it was the only hope he had of ever reaching anyone again.
He wore his makeshift backpack on his back, and in his arms, he held the still-glowing meteorite. He hugged it close, feeling its warmth keeping him alive, so warm that his leather jacket was stuffed in the backpack. With just jeans and a T-shirt on, he felt hot. It was a feeling that he would rather have than be as cold as the frozen ash that crunched under his feet. At his waist, strapped to his belt, hung the hunting knife, and on his feet, tied tight, were his dad’s hiking boots.
Through the meteor’s light, he could see the frozen branches of trees by the road. Everything was dark, and the meteor’s light had trouble piercing too far into the ashy haze that filled the air. Now and then, Derek would have to climb a fallen tree to continue following the road. The meteor storm had been bad. He could not believe just how many trees had been knocked over. Once, he lost the road for hours, trying to go around a section where all the trees had been knocked over like bowling pins.
Around Derek’s face was a makeshift wrap that he had cut from one of his burnt shirts. His eyes burned from all the ash, his chest burned where the meteor had touched him, and his skin was dry and irritated. To top it off, he was starving for meat. He had eaten the last of his jerky yesterday while thinking about his fourteenth birthday, which was today if he had the day correct. He still had one and a half water canteens and a little burnt oatmeal. He was tempted to drink and eat the rest to fill his growling stomach.
Either way, he would have to find and boil some water tonight if he could get a fire started. The matches did not work right, and with the flint? It was almost impossible, though he got it to work with much effort.
He came through a group of trees, and to his surprise, he saw light up ahead. It turned out to be coming from the first building he had seen since the storm. At the same time he saw the building, he saw the first human in days.
The man looked up when he saw the light coming from Derek, and he stared in shock at seeing him. Then he collapsed onto the ground.
Surprised, Derek hurried forward. He rushed to the man and put the meteor on the ground next to him, bending over the man to see if he was still alive. As he did, he got hit from behind, hard.
Derek heard a weird ringing in his ears and thought he might pass out as he fell to his knees, holding his head, seeing stars as pain crashed in around him. He saw movement and instinctively rolled out of the way to see a baseball bat swish through the air above where his head had been. Anger and fear overrode his pain, and he pulled his knife, slashing the air at his side.
He felt his knife snag briefly, cutting through clothing, then he heard a scream rip through the darkness as he got unsteadily on his feet.
“Get the light he was carrying, and I will take care of him,” a loud, commanding voice demanded. He was the one Derek knew had the bat.
The voice came from a shadow on Derek’s right.
“My face! Son of a bitch cut my face!” the man without the bat growled as he stumbled into the light the meteor gave off.
Derek caught a glimpse of the man’s face as he tried to duck the baseball bat again. This time, the bat caught him on the back of the head as he moved away, sending him sprawling into the ash-filled street. He rolled, forcing himself to move through the pain, and heard the bat slam into the road. Then he was on his feet again.
By then, the bleeding man—who had faked his fall to lure Derek to him—had reached the glowing meteor. Derek saw him bend over and try to pick it up. A second later, a horrified, pain-filled scream tore through the night as the man’s hands blistered and burned from touching the meteor. He dropped it and stared at his hands in agony.
The man with the bat turned at the unexpected cry from his partner. Seeing his chance, Derek lunged and slashed at the hand holding the bat.
The man grunted in pain and dropped the weapon, grabbing at his wrist, where Derek had just sliced through the tendons.
Full of anger, Derek stepped forward, lifting the knife toward the man. Seeing him coming, the man’s eyes went wide with fear, and he turned and ran. The man with the cut face and burned hands followed, ignoring the glowing meteor.
Suddenly shaking, Derek walked slowly to the meteor, coughing from all the dust he’d breathed in. He adjusted the makeshift scarf over his face and studied the meteor. It seemed unharmed. He bent down, picked it up, and as soon as his fingers touched it, it vibrated in his hands. Then, just as quickly, it settled, sending warmth through his body.
He sheathed his knife and began looking around for the things that had fallen from his backpack, coughing the whole time. Once he was sure he’d found everything, he turned to the building. In its window, he saw the flicker of a candle—and on the porch, two elderly people stood, each holding a shotgun.
When Derek looked toward them, the one closest to him gestured with his weapon, signaling for him to keep walking.
“I’ll be telling you like I told them: strangers aren’t welcome here. Beat it,” the old man said in a harsh voice.
“Herb! He has light, and you saw those men attack him,” the old woman beside him said in a kind, worried tone.
“Em—shut up,” the old man growled, again motioning for Derek to move on. “Leave, or I’ll shoot!” he threatened.
Angry, the old lady threw down her gun. “No, Herb!” she said, turning to Derek with urgency. “That boy needs help. I understand turning away those men, but this? Can’t you see—he’s only a boy. A wounded one at that. And he has light!” She whispered the last part in an astonished tone.
Derek watched them both nervously. The back of his head felt mushy as he touched it gently, and he could feel blood running down his scalp. He held the meteor closer to his chest and made a silent vow: next time he approached anyone, he would hide it—before someone else tried to kill him for it.
“Boy? What’s your name?” the old lady asked.
It took Derek a moment to realize she was speaking to him. He coughed to clear his throat, then winced—both from how raw it felt and from the pain that echoed through his skull.
When his voice finally came, it was cracked and hoarse. It didn’t sound like his voice at all.
“Derek,” he told her. “I was just looking for someplace to stay—and maybe some food. I don’t want any trouble. I’ve been walking since the meteors fell. This is the first place I’ve seen.” He paused, then added, “I can keep going if you want me to,” speaking with more strength than he actually felt.
The old man coughed, spat, and motioned for the woman to pick up her shotgun.
“You’re lying,” he growled. “Ain’t nothing could survive in the open these last four days. You’d’ve frozen to death or been hit by one of their asteroids. Now get on—we don’t need anyone taking what little we’ve got.”
Tired and frustrated, Derek turned to walk away.
“Derek,” the old lady called out, worriedly. She leaned her shotgun against the door. “Derek, my dear, stop right there. Let me take a look at you. You don’t look in any shape to go walking off alone,” she said quickly, pushing the old man aside before he could stop her.
“Emma! Damn it, Emma!” the old man barked. “Get back here! It’s not safe out there. Those men could still be lurking—this could be one of their tricks.” He hesitated, then followed after her, raising his shotgun and training it on Derek.
Derek turned toward them as they approached. He cradled the meteor protectively against his chest, almost as if to comfort it. As the old lady neared, the meteor suddenly vibrated—almost as if warning them to stay back. But it stopped after a second, as Derek gently ran his fingers over it, trying to calm it down.
As Emma approached, she stared at the light coming from the object the boy was holding. She was genuinely surprised when, as she got closer, she began to feel warmer. Once she was close to him, she stopped, looking at him curiously.
“What do you have there?” she asked, her voice full of wonder.
Derek wasn’t sure how to answer, but a lie came quickly to him. “It’s a new kind of heater my dad was working on,” he said.
“How does it work?” she asked in amazement. “Nothing in our house works anymore—no electricity, no batteries. It was even hard to get the candles to light.”
Noticing how muffled she sounded, Derek studied her carefully. It was like her nose was stuffed up. He gestured to the meteor in his arms.
“I’m not sure how it works. My dad never explained it to me. I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble. I wasn’t lying, though. My family and I were vacationing in the park when the meteors hit.”
He quickly wiped his eyes with his forearm as tears threatened to fall at the memory of his parents’ deaths.
“Shh. It’s okay,” she said softly, her voice kind and comforting. “You’re not causing any trouble. Don’t you mind, Herb. Now, let me see your head. You’re bleeding pretty badly. I saw those men hit you, and I fired my gun to scare them off—but for some reason, it wouldn’t fire. Herb even tried his, and it didn’t work either.”
“Emma, dear,” the old man said in a low, angry voice. “If those men hear that our guns don’t work, they’ll be back to take everything we have by force.”
He turned a sharp look on Derek, sizing him up. Derek suddenly felt wary. Something told him that Herb wasn’t as worried about violence as he claimed.
“But what’s done is done,” Herb continued. “Now, both of you get inside. It’s not safe out here. I’ll keep watch.”
Derek turned to him. “I’m okay. I can help you keep watch, in case they—”
“No, no, dear,” Emma said gently, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and steering him toward the house. “You can’t see it, but your head’s bashed up something awful. Now you come with me, and I’ll patch it up the best I can. Then, if you’re feeling better, you can help Herb watch the place. But I don’t think you should sleep—not with a knock to the head like that. You might not wake up. I can tell by your eyes—you’ve got yourself a concussion.”
Emma led the strange boy into her home and shop, then paused to watch as he looked around. The object in his arms lit the room more brightly than all her candles combined.
But what truly struck her as strange was his eyes.
When she’d looked into them to check for signs of a concussion, they had flashed silver.
At first, she thought it might be a trick of the light from whatever he was carrying—but then she saw the same flash in the glow of her candles.
His eyes had flashed silver.
Derek was led to the kitchen table, and Emma pulled out a chair for him. He carefully—though reluctantly—placed the meteor in the center of the table. When he tried to take his hands off it, he struggled. It was as if the meteor didn’t want him to let go. Surprised, he ran his hands lightly over its surface to reassure it.
Then he turned to Emma as she stepped closer to examine it.
“Be careful not to touch it. It can be very hot,” he warned her as he carefully took off his makeshift scarf; it was, to his dismay, soaked in blood.
Emma nodded politely. “Yes, I saw what it did to that man when he tried to take it from you,” she said, trying to reassure him, even as her mind reeled with questions. Why could this boy handle the object with his bare hands, while it had severely burned the other man?
She studied the object with fascination. Already, much to her relief, she could feel it warming the kitchen. She had never seen anything like this “heating device.” It looked exotic—but then again, with so many new gadgets coming out each year, she wasn’t surprised she didn’t recognize it.
“Take a seat right there,” she told Derek. “Let me see if I can clean you up a bit.”
Derek shrugged off his backpack and hooked it onto one of the chairs before sitting down at the table, right next to the meteor. He leaned forward slightly, allowing her to inspect the back of his head. That’s when he noticed the back of his shirt was also soaked with blood.
“You said you were visiting the park with your family when the meteors came?” she asked gently, hoping to distract him. At the same time, she cleaned the wound—a task made difficult by the ash caked onto his skin and tangled in his hair. Just by looking at him, she could tell he had been out in the storm a long time.
Sitting in the chair, Derek felt himself beginning to doze. Exhaustion was creeping up, making it harder and harder to stay upright. But her question snapped him awake, and he rubbed his eyes to keep them open.
“When the meteors came, my mom and dad were in the RV. I was rushing back and saw them trying to call me into it… Then it exploded. They never made it out,” he said, trying to keep the tears from falling.
Emma handed him a bottle of water while she finished cleaning both head wounds, listening as he told her how he had hidden on the side of the mountain and made it as far as he had.
When she finished tending to him, she used a candle to light a fire in the fireplace and began heating a large can of soup. While he ate, she shared her and Herb’s story—how they owned the store, the gas station, and the house; how they’d sealed it up tight to keep out the ash and hold in what little warmth they could make; and how they used nose filters that fit inside their nostrils to help them breathe better.
Once he was done eating, Derek couldn’t resist picking up the meteor again. Instantly, its warmth and comfort flooded through him. He realized just how attached he had grown to it over the past few days. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew, without a doubt, that it had kept him alive. Without its miraculous heat, he would’ve frozen to death.
He snapped back to attention when he realized Emma was watching him curiously as he ran his fingers along one of the swirling silver stripes, tracing it from the bottom of the meteor back up.
Emma smiled. “I’d treat that heater with reverence, too, after all you’ve been through. It’s been getting mighty cold without sunlight, and it’ll likely get colder still. The last three nights have been horrible. It’s nice to feel some warmth again.” She paused, then added, “You can stay as long as you want—as long as you help Herb watch the house. I feel like those two men might come back. Things could get bad now. This weather’s gonna make people desperate, and we could use extra hands in case trouble comes our way.”
She smiled again, looking hopeful. “That ain’t likely though. We’re far from everybody. Not many folks would even try walking through this weather, not without light. I think those two men you ran off’ll be the last ones we see around here.”
“I’m thinking she’s right,” Herb said as he entered the kitchen, rubbing his arms for warmth. “Them men’ll be back, though. You hurt one pretty bad, slicing his wrist like that. There’s plenty of blood out there. If it weren’t so dark, we’d see it plain as day. They couldn’t have gone far— and when they do come back, we ain’t got no guns to fight with.”
He gave Derek a long, appraising look.
“I’m old. Even hurt like they are, they’re still good enough to take Em and me. But with your help—and the heat you brought—we might have a shot. Don’t get me wrong, boy, I fought in my time. I know how to knife fight, sword fight, and even fence. But guns? That’s always been my strong point. Without ‘em… Well, stay as long as you want, so long as you’re helping me keep Emma safe.”
Grateful to be able to stay, Derek nodded.
“I can help keep watch. I’m not hurt too bad—just a little tired,” he said with a big yawn. “I don’t know how much help I can be if those men come back. That was my first real fight. I’ve been taking Jeet Kune Do since I was eight, but I didn’t remember any of it when they attacked me,” he admitted honestly.
The old man smiled—his first smile since Derek had arrived.
“You handled yourself pretty well, considering how dark it was and how young you are. Most kids wouldn’t have gotten back up after taking a hit like that from a baseball bat. But you took two and still fought them off. So your training must’ve taught you something. Most other kids would’ve gotten themselves killed.-”
Just then, a noise sounded from the roof—like someone trying to walk across it.
Derek saw Emma’s eyes widen. Herb took off at a run, grabbing something from near the doorway. Derek glimpsed a sword—the kind he’d seen army recruiters carry in commercials. As Herb dashed upstairs, Derek sprang to his feet, but Emma stopped him with a gentle touch on the shoulder.
“It could be a diversion,” she said quickly. “Go watch the front window and see if you spot anything. I’ll check the ones in the back.”
Derek nodded and moved toward the front of the house, pulling his knife from its sheath. He passed from the warm kitchen light into the semi-darkness of the living room, where only a single candle flickered.
The room had two large windows and a front door. Inside, it was clean but cluttered. A big-screen TV hung on one wall with a large couch in front of it, a loveseat to the side, dressers along the walls, an entertainment system, a table, and a few other pieces of furniture.
He moved quickly to one of the windows and crouched down, careful not to be seen. Peeking out, he caught sight of a shadowed figure swinging a bat—right at his head.
Reflexively, Derek tucked into a roll, the bat crashing into the glass behind him, missing his face by inches. He came up on his feet just as the man smashed through the rest of the window and jumped into the room.
“Son of a bitch! How did I miss you?” the man growled.
It was the one Derek had cut across the face. In the candlelight, Derek could see a deep, ragged gash that ran from the man’s forehead down his cheek and even through his coat to his chest. Though it wasn’t bleeding heavily, the entire front of the man’s coat was soaked with blood, as were the hands holding the bat.
“You think that knife scares me, boy?” the man sneered, then charged, swinging the bat with all his might.
Derek almost froze, his heart pounding at the man’s sudden attack. He didn’t think he had ever been so scared. But beneath the fear, a calm part of his mind—shaped by years of dojo training—watched the man’s every move. The attacker telegraphed each action, making it easy for Derek to predict his intent. Derek waited until the man committed to his swing, then dove forward, rolling to the side just as the bat whooshed over his head. As he passed, he slashed his knife toward the man.
But before the blade could hamstring the bat-wielder, Derek cried out in pain—another man had appeared, slamming a metal pipe into his wrist.
The blow nearly knocked the knife from his hand. Only a flash of instinct saved him: he had glimpsed the pipe a second before it connected and managed to shift his arm downward. Instead of a direct hit, the pipe only grazed his wrist. Still, it hurt like hell.
The man with the pipe landed awkwardly after jumping through the same window. Derek reacted instantly—kicking at the man’s knee. The strike hit the side instead of the front, but it was enough to knock the man off balance. He crashed into the wall, crying out in pain as his injured wrist slammed against it to break his fall. Derek saw blood spray into the air as the man’s bandage came loose.
Derek tried to regain his footing, but the man with the bat was already swinging again, trying to take Derek’s head off. Derek dove backward. The bat grazed his nose, and pain exploded in his face as blood streamed down. He cried out as the back of his head collided with the couch, stunned.
The man stood over him, grinning cruelly. Derek could see in his eyes— he thought he had won.
But anger surged through Derek. He pushed forward from the couch and drove his knife upward, jabbing it deep into the man’s arm—the one cocked to swing the bat again.
At that moment, Herb charged into the room, sword in hand and raised in a front guard stance.
Both intruders froze at the sight of the weapon.
They panicked.
Without a word, they scrambled back through the broken window and disappeared into the darkness.
By then, it was growing hard to see inside the house—ash poured in through the broken window, swirling through the air. The mix of blood and ash clogging his nose sent Derek into a fit of coughing, his lungs seizing as he struggled to breathe.
Herb ran to the window, peering out into the darkness, trying to track the retreating men.
“You okay, son?” he asked over his shoulder.
Derek tried to answer, but the coughing overtook him, wracking his body until he couldn’t speak—or breathe.
“Em! Come help the boy! I need to fix this damn window and keep the blasted ash out!”
Derek staggered, choking, his lungs burning as if they were swelling shut. He couldn’t breathe.
He barely felt it when Herb caught him—everything was spinning. Then, everything went black.
This concludes the free preview of Meteor.
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