Aurora(60)
“We’re fine. That’s the message here. Our systems worked, and our defenses are strong. But we need to take this for what it is, a wake-up call. We’ve been extremely lax about our schedules and protocols in these first few days, and I want to say right now, that is over. We’ll meet about this tomorrow and discuss it in greater detail, but, clearly, we all need to get very, very serious here.”
He looked around the room. The Friedmans, who’d been more temperamental than he’d imagined, were scowling, clearly unhappy with the security arrangements, and perhaps the choice they’d made to get into this community in the first place. But they said nothing. Others looked frightened or suspicious, yet no one was outright disagreeing with him. Good. He continued. “I’d like to start by suggesting that, obviously, the family should move to the underground quarters.”
“What family?”
Thom turned, annoyed, to look at the source of the voice. It was Marques. “What?”
“What family? There’s a few families here.”
“Well, my family, obviously.”
“Oh, OK,” Marques said. “Like, the first family. Like, the president’s family.” Beside him, Beth put a hand on his arm, silently asking him to stop.
Thom tried to recover. “I’m sorry if that came out wrong. Yes. My family, the only family living above ground. We’re moving down here. And there’s to be no more outdoor activities without prior—”
“I didn’t agree to that.”
Thom turned again. Now it was Ann-Sophie.
“Sweetie, we said—”
“No, we didn’t say anything,” she said. “I don’t want to live underground.”
“I’m talking about what’s reasonable and prudent,” Thom said, keeping his voice low.
“Reasonable and prudent would have meant not running outside during gunfire,” she said evenly. Eight or nine heads turned away, looked down, or suddenly became interested in the screens of their nonworking cell phones. Mom and Dad were fighting. Dr. Rahman yawned, got up, and headed for the door, walking out on the meeting. Thom noticed he was wearing pajama bottoms and a T-shirt that read, SCIENCE: LIKE MAGIC BUT IT’S REAL. Wonderful.
The image of a rapidly unraveling sweater sleeve flitted through Thom’s mind. Mentally, he pulled the loose string and tightened it up again. He turned back to Ann-Sophie. “Darling, can we talk about this later?”
“Why would you do that?” she persisted, pulling the half-sleeping forms of Lukas and Anya closer to her on the sofa. “Run outside and put yourself in danger like that?”
“I was—I wanted to make sure that—” he stammered, unsure where he was going.
“She’s right,” Jimmy said, firmly. He looked Thom in the eye. “I know the desire to protect your family is powerful and you’d do anything for them, sir, but you’ve got to leave an open firefight to us. Just let us do our jobs and keep you all alive.”
Thom looked at him, grateful, and Ann-Sophie backed off. Marques said nothing more. The flames of suspicion seemed to be doused, at least for the time being.
“All right,” Thom said, “I will. Next time, I’ll head straight down here.”
“Let’s hope there isn’t a next time,” Jimmy replied.
Thom nodded. “That’s it for tonight, everybody.”
The group dispersed, headed back to their respective quarters.
Thom went to Ann-Sophie, sat down next to her, and stretched out his arms. He wrapped one around each of the kids and pulled the whole family in close. Ann-Sophie, thus encircled, laid her head on his shoulder.
Thom let out a tiny exhale of relief. Aside from a minor deviation, the incident had played out as planned. Order had been restored. The cycle of events would now return to its previous pattern of predictability.
Looking over his shoulder, Ann-Sophie’s gaze fell on Marques, Beth, and Kearie. Marques looked at her, and their eyes caught.
Neither looked away.
23.
Aurora
Scott, uncharacteristically, was the first one out of bed. As much as he was thrilled to have Celeste staying in the house with them, her presence did create certain difficulties. Like a lot of teenage boys, Scott was a restless sleeper, accustomed to spreading out, limbs akimbo, over his entire bed. Having to accommodate another person was a new challenge. The two nights they’d spent together the week prior, when Aubrey was out of town, it had been easier to sleep, probably because they were both drunk by the time they closed their eyes. But last night they’d been fully sober, and Scott found Celeste’s presence crowding, overly warm, and immensely exciting.
Celeste slept in underwear and a tank top, and the proximity of a nearly naked girl who was interested in cuddling was a distraction Scott found impossible to overcome. Contrary to Aubrey’s opinion, they weren’t having sex, at least not intercourse, not since their first, awkward attempt at it last week. Both virgins, they’d contented themselves with fooling around for several months. But spending nights in the same bed together left Scott with the unpleasant reality of awakening with a furious erection every few hours. That morning, when he woke at 6 a.m. in his usual discomfort, he’d slipped out of bed, gotten dressed, and gone downstairs.