Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“I’m glad you like it,” Aiden says. “Because for the next thirty days, this is where we stay.”
“What about Ethel?”
“What about Ethel?”
“What if he goes for her? You said he destroys everything people love. I love her.”
“I don’t think he knows that,” Aiden says reassuringly. “She’s being taken care of, don’t worry. When we all left to find you, we got in a dog sitter. Eric knows we are not at home. He’s not going to go for the dog.”
That does make me feel better. He actually answered the question. Other people in my life would have told me a dog doesn’t matter. They would have shamed me for giving a shit. And they wouldn’t have made sure she was cared for. I feel those happy tears coming again, and I know I can’t indulge them because nobody here is happy, but this is amazing to me.
“What is it, Ella?”
“We’re going to win,” I say.
“Hmm, what do you mean?”
“There’s no way we don’t. You’re so nice, and you think of everything.”
Aiden looks like he just got winded. “You really think that, don’t you.”
“Yes,” I say.
Aiden
What a sweet thing she is. I was just pondering how I had let my family fall into complete ruin, how we lost Teddy, and how we are all now underground hiding from a psychopathic billionaire, and here Ella is telling me what a wonderful job I am doing, and seeming to mean it.
The vents in the place are integrated into the motel. It really is a feat of engineering. Places like this are truly hidden. Plenty of rich people build their escape bunkers either on very private property, where signs of construction are obvious and can be seen in satellite records, or they put them under their homes, or in places where these sorts of things are looked for. The advantage of this unassuming location is that nobody has ever cared about it. Construction here, while very much on the record, blends in with all the other commonplace construction. I believe we are hidden as well as anybody can be hidden.
“Ew, David!” a young woman shouts somewhere above us. It’s hard to tell what she’s so incensed about, but she’s clearly unhappy.
“This computer has the old solitaire on it!” Luke says. “I bet it has… oh, my god, it has Doom.”
The computer is from the early two thousands, which might seem like an ancient piece of technology by today’s standards. It connects to the internet only when plugged in by a thin gray cable, which connects to the motel’s copper line. The guests might use Wi-Fi, but everything here is hard wired.
Luke and Ella sit down at the computer, which is currently not connected to anything. Leo goes to bed. I decide I have to do something with my hands, so I microwave a ration pouch for us all. These freeze-dried meals are actually quite good.
By midday, everyone who wants to eat Bolognese reheated from 2019 has done so, and we are all asleep. Aside from Leo who has gone to bed, everybody else is in the lounge. There are three couches arranged in a U shape, blue and softly upholstered. Luke is asleep on one, Ella is passed out on another, and I decide to take the third. The tyranny of a solitary bedroom feels too much to bear right now. We are animals retreating to a burrow, licking our wounds, and preparing for better days to come.
Ella
I have some amends to make with this family, and with one man in particular.
“So you got shot,” I say, sliding into Leo’s room. He’s sitting up in bed, reading a book. His features crease with annoyance at my comment though his eyes lighten when he sees me.
“I’m not in the mood for your brat behavior,” he says, closing the book and giving me his full attention.
“I’m sorry you got shot,” I correct myself.
“Just as well for you I did. If I had found you in the wild myself, it would not have been as pleasant an affair as I am sure your interlude with Aiden was. He has the patience of an eldest sibling. I do not.”
He’s always been somewhat brusque when dealing with me, but I think that wound is annoying him more than usual. I can see in his eyes the fact that he wishes he could get up and grab me, bend me to his will, do terrible things to me.
Leo is not a good person, and he is an even worse man. But in a world full of evils, he at least wants the best for me. At least, in so far as the best is being one of his possessions.
I feel bad for him. It’s not fun being shot.
I sit down on the bed by his feet.
“What are you doing?” he asks.