The End is Now Page 26

  Will didn’t think like that anymore, though. There comes an age when you’re too old for kidnapping. A little after third grade you either become too strong or not cute enough to where parents would pay lots of money to get you back. But tonight he wasn’t positive he was too old to be kidnapped.

  Will looked over at the trucker. The trucker turned his head and smiled at him. His eyes seemed really white. They were piercing through the darkness. It made Will feel uncomfortable. It was the same feeling Will had the night he was lost in the cornfields when he thought he could hear someone behind him breathing. He remembered that his mom had said that when a demon walks into a room you can actually feel the whole room turn evil. That’s what was happening in the truck. It was turning evil.

  Still, he had to be brave for his family. They were so close to Goodland now, and if he could just get this freaky trucker to take him to his sister, he could make sure they were okay. She could drive. They could get out of town before the rapture happened at sunrise.

  Will told himself to be calm and brave as the trucker looked at him again. The trucker said, “So, why isn’t your sister with your family?”

  “She’s at homecoming.”

  “And something bad’s going to happen to her at homecoming?”

  “Kind of. It’s hard to explain.”

  “Try me.” Will didn’t like where this conversation was going. He wanted to tell this Funyuny-smelling trucker that his sister was in trouble, and that’s all of the information that he needed to know. But the trucker had been nice enough to give him a ride. And they were getting really close to the city limits. So maybe if Will told the trucker everything that was about to happen he would just drop Will off and get away from Goodland as quickly as possible.

  “Well, the whole town’s in trouble.”

  “The whole town?”

  “Yeah, you see a couple of days ago there was a tornado. And it wrecked my elementary school.”

  “Okay.”

  “But here’s the thing. I knew the tornado would happen. Well, I thought it would be a laser. Or at least kids at my school thought it would be a laser. But no matter what it was, I knew something bad was going to happen at my school.”

  “Really,” the trucker said, looking at Will. “And how did you know that?”

  “Because a face — ”

  And that’s when something appeared in the middle of the road. At least appeared is the best word Will could use for what happened. They were driving along, and suddenly this figure in a full white robe with a long beard was just standing there. It could have been an angel or maybe God himself, but most likely it was a good guy because it had a beard. And as the truck was barreling toward the white-cloaked figure, it locked eyes with Will. It was the face. Sure, this time it had actual eyes instead of cornhusk eyes, but it was still the same face.

  Will was sure of it.

  Will looked at the face, trying to read what its eyes were saying: Was it mad because he was telling an outsider about the rapture? Did he get the last prophecy wrong? Was there something else he needed to know, something he missed? And the face looked like it was about to speak, to answer all of those questions and maybe more, but that’s when the trucker yanked on the steering wheel. The truck started to rock back and forth and Will clung on to the door handle, scared the whole thing was about to tip over. And then Will clenched his eyes shut and wasn’t sure exactly what happened next. There was rocking, the smell of burning brakes, the trucker yelling the most unholy combination of swear words Will’s young ears had ever heard. There was a loud screeching noise, and finally a crash.

  Then silence.

  Within the hour, homecoming was packed. Emily’s phone calls had worked. People just started to arrive. Most of the new arrivals weren’t wearing formal attire. They were in jeans and T-shirts, or they were in their pajamas because it was already eleven at night and they were planning on getting a good night’s sleep before the rapture.

  But Emily convinced them sleep could wait. And all of the people wearing all of the different clothes were actually helping to make homecoming memorable. It was bringing the magic back. Because there was something so carefree in the air. It was like everyone had nothing to lose. It was as if all of the songs the DJ played had some deep underlying truth. They could lose themselves completely in one song after another. The high school students were almost all collectively thinking —

  It really is fun to stay at the YMCA.

  It is getting hot in here. We should take off all our clothes.

  And the people just kept coming. Nearby college students and guys who Emily knew had graduated one or two years ago were sneaking into the auditorium. Soon it was standing room only. The DJ was feeding off the energy in the room and the whole gym was bouncing with students jumping in their jeans or pajamas or suits and dresses. Everyone was pumping their fists in the air, sweating, and singing and yelling the words out to each one of the songs. The room was in a fever. Emily had heard about the crazy clubs in New York and LA, and she thought this must be what they’re like. This type of energy was usually only found in the biggest cities of the world. But it was here tonight, maybe because deep down everyone really did fear it was the last night of their lives on earth.

  And Emily was about to be crowned queen of everyone here. She was basking in the thought as her phone vibrated. When she pulled it out of her purse she saw “Mom” on the caller ID.

  Not now, Emily thought.

  “Hello,” she said.

  Her mom was saying something on the other end of the line and she sounded frantic, but Emily couldn’t hear her with all of the singing and screaming and shouting in the background.

  “Hold on,” Emily said as she walked out of the gym. When she was outside she said, “What’s going on?”

  “Will’s been kidnapped,” her mom said through the sobs.

  “What do you mean he’s been kidnapped?”

  “We were at Stuckey’s in Salina — ”

  “What were you doing in Salina?”

  “Your dad took us away this morning. He wanted to get us away from everything. We didn’t want to go but we were trapped in a police car.”

  “Dad took you in a police car?”

  “I don’t have time to explain all of this, honey.”

  “Okay, so how did Will get kidnapped.”

  “He was so worried about you! He was so worried that you’d be raptured without us. Your dad said he kept talking about that.”

  “Okay,” Emily said.

  “So he either got in some creepy trucker’s semi or he was forced in. I’m not sure. But I think he’s looking for you.”

  “Mom, this can’t be happening right now. They’re about to announce the homecoming queen.”

  “Well, this is happening right now, honey. We need you to find your brother.”

  “I’ve got to go,” Emily said as she snapped the phone shut.

  When she stepped back inside the gym, the dance was crazier than ever. And Emily wanted to be a part of it all. She wanted to dance and crowd surf and make out with Curtis. More than anything she wanted to hear the cheers and see everyone’s adoring, jealous faces when they put the crown on her head and declared her queen.

  Will was going to be fine. This was just another case of her mom being overly sensitive. Her paranoia wasn’t going to ruin this night, because if Emily let that happen, then her mother’s paranoia may just take over the rest of her life. So Will had gotten into a truck. Big deal. He was hitching a ride back to Goodland and he’d probably end up at Nate Jackson’s house, and when she got there they would be reading comics. She would stand in the room in her silver dress, with mascara running in rivers down her face because she was crying so badly about missing her one opportunity to make her high school years count for something.

  The reality was, nothing was going to happen to Will. At least, probably nothing would happen.

  WILL HENDERSON

  When Will slowly opened his eyes, he
saw a cloud of dust, and as it cleared, he realized they were well off the road. He opened the door to the truck, hopped out, and saw that a bunch of the truck’s tires had blown out. The trucker must have yanked the truck off the road and rolled into the middle of this field. They’d even barreled through some barbed wire on their way down. It looked like some of the wire had wrapped its tentacles around the tires and the underbelly of the truck. The trucker stood next to Will, his nose bleeding some. He didn’t seem to notice. He was just looking at all the damage done to his semi.

  “What was that?” the trucker asked.

  “You saw it too?” Will said.

  “Yeah, but I’m not sure what it was. Was it a deer?”

  “Most deer’s don’t wear white cloaks and have beards.”

  “It was blurry. It happened fast.”

  “Yeah, but it looked a lot more like a person than a deer,” Will said.

  “If it was a person, then where’s he at?” the trucker asked, pointing up towards the road. And it was true, there was not a person or a car or anything on the road. It was empty and lifeless.

  “I don’t know. But it wasn’t a deer,” Will said.

  “Whatever. I’m going to get us some help,” the trucker said, walking back to the cab. Disbelief is already sinking into him, Will thought. All the time, adults wonder why they never see angels and demons or anything like that. But maybe they do, and when they see them, their minds instantly try to tell them they saw something else. Maybe that’s why adults live in such a faithless, serious world. Maybe that’s why even people in my own town are having such a hard time believing in the rapture even after every one of the face’s prophecies have come true.

  Will walked up to the cab and saw the trucker clutching the CB, trying to get an answer. “I said, this is Clyde. Is anyone out there? Over,” the trucker said. But no one on the other end answered. There was only static. Clyde kept trying the CB, but every time he was met with static silence. If there was someone out there listening to his pleas for help, they weren’t answering. And the trucker finally got the hint. He threw his CB down and started walking up to the road.

  “Where are you going?” Will asked.

  “We’ve got to walk into town. Apparently every trucker on the planet turned their CB off and there’s no phone service out here. What is it with this town?” the trucker shouted.

  “I don’t know,” Will answered. He’d been wondering the same thing himself.

  Will followed him up the slope. When the trucker got to the top of the road, his eyes became as big as baseballs. A week ago Will might have thought the trucker was looking at the four horsemen of the apocalypse or something else rapture related, but luckily Will knew better now. He knew the rapture was still hours away.

  Finally Will saw it too. He didn’t realize they were that close to town, but there, across the road, were Mr. Johnson’s cornfields, and about a half-mile down the road, next to the cornfields, was a large group of people. There were bonfires and people shouting and who knew what else.

  “What are they doing?” the trucker asked.

  “I have no idea,” Will said. And Will didn’t want to know. Whatever was going on out there, Will thought he should be at least in the eighth grade before he saw it firsthand.

  “Come on, maybe there’s someone there who can help us,” the trucker said.

  Will knew he shouldn’t go anywhere near those people. It was the same feeling of things turning evil. There was a little voice inside him that was shouting to stay away. But what was he supposed to do? Sit on the side of the road and wait for the rapture to come first thing in the morning? Not an option. He’d been brave and it had gotten him this far. He just had to hope his bravery would take him a little farther. So he told the trucker, “Okay, let’s go.”

  They started walking toward the last place on earth Will wanted to be. Will hadn’t been back to the cornfields since the night the face had appeared to him. He hadn’t even been near them. When he had to go into the city he insisted his mom go the opposite direction. It wasn’t the thought of the face exactly that made his stomach sink, it was the fear, the feeling of being trapped, the thought of death closing in on him, the thought of starving and thirsting to death. He knew that just seeing the cornfields would remind him of all of that.

  As they got closer, the shouting got louder and the fires burned brighter. Two men with torches saw Will. One of them shouted, “That’s him! That’s the Henderson boy!” Will didn’t even have a chance to run. Two men grabbed Will from behind and started dragging him into the mob. Will didn’t know what was going to happen next. He didn’t even want to know. All he could do was shut his eyes and pretend this was all a nightmare that he would wake up from at any moment.

  ***

  The DJ at homecoming could tell the room needed a break. He told the senior class president that now would be a good time. The class president stepped up to the microphone with two officers of the student council. One officer was holding a dozen roses and a sparkling white sash that read, “Homecoming Queen.” The other officer was holding a crown.

  The class president said, “It is now time to announce this year’s Homecoming Queen and King. First, the Queen. Drumroll please.” Many in the room slapped their knees, mimicking a Letterman-like drumroll. “I’m proud to announce that Emily Henderson, you are Washington High’s Homecoming Queen!”

  At that the room erupted into wild applause. Everyone knew what a victory this was for Emily. They started chanting her name.

  “Get on up here, Emily,” the class president said.

  Everyone in the gym kept chanting. But Emily did not appear. The room quieted down into a hush. “Where are you, Emily?”

  Emily did not answer. Everyone was looking around now. There was a murmur in the room. One person was asking another if they’d seen Emily. “Has anyone seen Emily?” the class president asked.

  No one answered. Even Curtis, her date, looked baffled. Emily was nowhere in sight. She was not outside the gym or in the bathrooms.

  She had simply disappeared.

  JEFF HENDERSON

  Jeff was in handcuffs, sitting at the police station in downtown Salina. All around him phones rang and actual criminals — vagrants, pimps, drunks, drug dealers, and prostitutes — were being booked, fingerprinted, and photographed. This is what the rapture had reduced Jeff to. A common criminal. He was about to be put in jail for the second time in twenty-four hours.

  When Jeff asked what he was being charged with, they said impersonating a police officer and stealing a squad car for starters. And if they thought about it, they were sure they could come up with more. For instance, they didn’t know if locking your wife up in a police car while impersonating an officer of the law counted as spousal abuse, but if it did they were willing to charge him with that as well.

  “Where is my wife?”

  “Don’t worry about her. She’s being taken care of. My partner’s asking her a couple of questions.”

  “We don’t have time for questions.”

  “Trust me buddy, you got all the time in the world.”

  “You don’t understand — ”

  “Yes, I do. You’ve said it like fifty times, your son’s in trouble.”

  “Well, he is. I have to rescue him.”

  “From what?” the officer said.

  This was a tricky question. Jeff still didn’t know exactly how to explain it. When the officers first found him outside of Stuckey’s, Jeff had been reluctant to explain everything. He kept thinking he could just rationally talk his way out of this. He thought if he told them what was going on in Goodland it would make him sound crazy.

  But it was getting late.

  Will had been gone for at least an hour now and if Jeff didn’t get out of this station soon he might never see his son again. Who knows where that trucker would take him? Jeff couldn’t think about it. He needed say whatever it took to get him out of custody.

  It seemed like the truth was
Jeff’s last option.

  So Jeff told the officer everything — the rapture, the Antichrist, the mark of the beast and the food rations, the mayor’s death, the ice storm, the tornado, the cornfields, the Prepared, the Realists, and the prophecies. As Jeff told his story the officer looked at him with furrowed brows. Jeff thought this was probably the same look this officer would give to a schizophrenic homeless man talking about the FBI tapping phones, and government conspiracies, and the town being overthrown by vampires. Jeff was trying to talk in a tone of a voice that said, “I’m not one of those guys.” A voice that said, “I’m not homeless and I’m pretty sure I’m not schizophrenic.”

  Jeff finished up by saying, “My son thinks he’s a prophet. But the crazy part is, half the town is sure he’s a prophet as well.”

  “That’s the crazy part?” the officer said.

  “Well, one of the crazy parts,” Jeff said.

  Then the officer’s partner walked into the conversation. He was a lot younger than the officer Jeff was talking with. Jeff thought the younger officer was probably the one who wanted to get into all sorts of crazy car chases and shootouts while the older cop was just trying to stay alive long enough to get his retirement pension. But at the moment Jeff didn’t care about any of that. He just wanted one of them to let him go so he could save his son.