Blackout

By Deena Lipomi

When 17-year-old musician Leo and his 15-year-old scientist sister Jenny wake up in a ditch with pains in their hands, they wonder what happened on their drive home from their father's house in rural Pennsylvania. Their only memory of the past twelve hours is of bright lights flashing through their windshield. Then the blackout.

Leo is content to chalk up the missing memories and throbbing hands to a concussion and nerve damage, but Jenny won't let it go. Soon the siblings uncover clues that they stumbled upon a dangerous and illegal alternative energy project in the Appalachians - and that their father is involved. If they don't discover the truth, Leo's burning hands will destroy his music career before it begins, and Jenny will never know if her father is the mentor she's always trusted or a mad scientist who will stop at nothing for the success of his work. Not even if it means sacrificing his own children.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Deena Lipomi
• Release date: Jul 16, 2013
• ISBN: 9780989602402

Deena Lipomi

Deena Lipomi grew up in western New York with an older sister, younger brother, and parents who encouraged the creation of fictional worlds. She has a BS in Creative Writing and Communications from SUNY Brockport, and a Masters in Library Science from the University at Buffalo. By day she works as a Young Adult Services Librarian in a busy public library, and by night she dives into her novels. Besides reading and writing, Deena is also a fan of traveling, Muppets, Project Runway, and baking gluten free recipes. She lives near her home town with her musician husband and a large number of guitars, computers and, of course, books.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Leo

Odds were I could compose an alt-rock guitar hook in the time it took my sister and Dad to say goodbye. I shoved my duffle bag and portable amp into the back of the SUV, unzipped my guitar case, and strapped the Strat over my shoulder.

Dad’s and Jen’s silhouettes hugged in the living room window while I tuned up. The two of them had gone on about solar cells and nanos or whatever for days and still had more to say about it. It was like they thought they’d never see each other again or something.

Leaning against the car door, I played around with a heavy riff that would’ve rocked the old farmhouse if I’d been plugged into my Fender amp, which would’ve been awesome. Dad had no neighbors to complain about the noise. Not for miles. All I could see were the Appalachians.

For five days I’d been stuck with two people who didn’t know a bass guitar from a violin and didn’t care if they ever learned.

On the other hand, Mom’s side of the family had music going for it. But she also had a sister, my Aunt Laura, who’d gone nuts when she was seventeen. Like me. The age, not the crazy part. Not yet.

Mom’s side of the family also had Grandma, and she had dementia.

I didn’t fit in with Dad’s side of the family, and wasn’t sure I wanted to fit in with Mom’s.

As I strummed and played around on the upper frets, the sun started to set and my mood lifted. I was almost free. Once I got home I’d have two full days before the new school year began to get more of my album recorded.

Something rustled in the grass near my feet. A snake slipped over the rocks and disappeared into a small hole mostly hidden by weeds. Probably a garter snake. Not a rattler like Jenny said lived around here. At least not that I could tell. What I needed to make this trip a total good time failure was an injection of snake venom.

Ten minutes later, Dad and Jenny finally backed away from each other. Dad with his limp and Jenny with her tight posture. I packed up my guitar while Jenny exited the house. Her backpack and laptop bags banged against her body as she marched over. I had no idea why she needed so much junk.

Did you have to wait outside? Jenny asked as she hefted her backpack into the back seat of the SUV.

I got behind the wheel. What do you mean?

I mean, we’re not going to see Dad for like another three months. She buckled in beside me. You didn’t have to act so excited to get home.

I’ve got exciting things to do at home.

Jenny frowned. Like locking yourself in your bedroom.

I started up the car. I’m recording.

And who gave you that equipment to record on? Jenny asked, tossing an envelope onto my lap.

Without opening it I knew what was inside. Crisp twenty dollar bills. Dad gave Jenny his time and me his money. Sure, I’d take it and use it. But it could never buy my love, as the Beatles said perfectly.

Dad should be happy I’m using his money wisely, I said.

It’s disrespectful. Jenny mumbled when she didn’t want to start a fight.

Too late. He hasn’t earned my respect. I turned the key. The used SUV Dad’s money had also bought me – so I could drive us down to visit – purred to life. Only my duty.

Mom had kicked Dad out of the house four years ago, about twelve years too late in my opinion. He’d never given her the time she’d deserved either, even when she was raising two little kids, so I had no reason to treat him differently. Dad was completely wrapped up in Envirology Tech, his ridiculously important, ridiculously rich business.

That was fine. I was wrapped up in alt-rock. We each had our own things. And unless we were forced to cross paths, everything ran just good enough.

Chapter 2

Jenny

Dad flashed the porch light on and off three times like he had since we were little, signaling Have a safe trip. Leo was supposed to honk three times to reply, See you soon.

Of course he didn’t because he had to prove something. He was probably aiming for I am too cool for these childish traditions, but instead he hit right on, I’m a total jerk to the man who made my life possible.

I turned on the interior car light and waved goodbye, knowing it was still too dark for Dad to see me but feeling like I had to make up for my brother, as usual.

Dad’s Pennsylvania Dutch farmhouse shrank smaller and smaller while the mountains grew taller and taller. Clouds of dust from the one-lane dirt road billowed around us, making it hard to see anything under the violet streaks in the twilight sky. I missed Dad already, which was scary and sad.

The truth was Mom was all right to live with, but Dad got me.

We should’ve spent one more night and left tomorrow morning, I said, not just to annoy Leo but because I believed it. Dad doesn’t like us driving these roads in the dark. With Leo’s sometimes wild driving, I agreed with Dad. The roads were nearly empty of other drivers, the turns were sharp, and the cliffs were steep just beyond the guard rails. If something happened, there’d be no one to flag down for a long time.

Leo ignored me.

Well this was going to be a lovely three-and-a-half-hour ride home. At least it wasn’t unexpected. And if he was going to be a jerk, I’d give him a reason. What else were sisters for?

Since Dad supports your music monetarily, I said, I don’t see why you can’t be pleasant to him once in a while. I eyed the envelope of cash that Leo had tucked into the dash and wished for a second that I’d kept it. I could’ve used it to pay my August phone bill. If I’d asked Dad for the money, he would’ve given it to me, but I didn’t want him to know I was that irresponsible with my allowance or my phone.

How long would it have taken Leo to ask me if Dad had given him his traditional pile of twenties? I guessed one hour, tops, when he calculated the dollar amount he’d need to produce CDs for his band Memory Men to sell at his currently unscheduled and nonexistent gigs.

Dad doesn’t have to throw money at me, Leo said. He just has to accept a few things. About me. About my life. I’d rather he did that.

He’s trying to reach you, I said. You make it impossible. It was obvious to everyone except Leo, from the way Dad begged Leo to eat breakfast with us during our visits to the way Dad encouraged him to apply to colleges close to home. Dad even said he’d help Leo with his entrance essays no matter how many Envirology Tech projects he had running.

Leo reached for the stereo’s volume to turn up a punk song – and obviously to drown me out.

Come on, Leo, I said, reaching for the volume knob. Can’t you take anything seriously?

What do you want me to do? Leo asked. Find a cure for cancer? Then you and Dad’ll accept me into your little science nerd club?

No, but you could speak at dinner like a cognizant member of the family, I shot back.

The SUV bumped through a rut, rattling the whole vehicle. Would you be quiet for a minute so I can concentrate? He clenched his hands onto the steering wheel.

I sucked in my bottom lip, a move I made often when Leo was driving so I wouldn’t criticize his road skills. At seventeen, he was the licensed driver, and at fifteen, I was the passenger who depended on him for the quarterly visits to Dad’s house. I tried to forget that with one wrong turn we could end up plunging into the small but drown-worthy Pawali Lake a hundred feet below. No other vehicles came our way and at dusk the lack of streetlights – or stars or moon in the cloudy sky – left us with only a few yards of visible space in front of the SUV.

A dark shadow leapt into our path.

Look out! I yelled.

Leo swore and hit the brakes, fishtailing the SUV in the loose gravel. If there’d been a guardrail on this stretch of the road, we would’ve scraped our back bumper against it. Instead I felt the back of the car pulling downward until Leo floored it back onto level ground.

The fox-sized animal scampered into the tall grass at the foot of the mountain rise.

Leo wiped his brow. Thanks, he said.

Sure.

You OK?

Yeah.

Cool. Leo adjusted his seat belt and eased on the gas.

A mile or so later, when my body had stopped shaking, my brain began composing my science fair thesis again, like it had all week. As an incoming sophomore, this was the first year I was eligible to enter the state wide Science Among Us competition. Placing first, second, or even third pretty much guaranteed a state school scholarship, but with the topic I wanted to tackle, I was hoping for a private school full ride. I’d planned on winning this competition since sixth grade, the year Mom kicked Dad out of the house, the year I’d needed him most.

Can I borrow your phone? I asked Leo.

What happened to yours? he asked.

I didn’t have it turned back on yet.

He snorted, like I was the irresponsible one and pulled his cell from his pocket and tossed it onto my lap. I turned down his music and dialed.

Leo? Dad answered on the third ring.

No, it’s me, Dad. I felt Leo roll his eyes beside me.

Jenny, hey kiddo. Did you forget something? Dad asked.

No, I was just thinking, I said, watching the pink clouds fade to black out the windshield. What if I narrowed down my thesis to something like, how to collect and store exact amounts of solar energy in polymers that can be fully used before they break down?

That is a huge topic, Dad said. I pictured him cleaning up our dinner dishes, alone in the big house. The research we’ve already done together on the real life applications of the polymer solar cells is very advanced for a high school student. I don’t know what you’re worried about. The Science Among Us committee is going to fall over themselves when they see the work you’ve done.

That made me smile. Still I said, But wouldn’t it be even more impressive if I could find answers to the second problem? I’ll have access to the Chem labs at U of R as soon as my sponsorship goes through. And the help of a grad student. I couldn’t wait for my University of Rochester program to kick off in October. I’d been the only student from East High to be accepted to the advanced placement program and I didn’t plan on wasting the opportunity on basic science questions.

Jenny, are you kidding me? Of course you could do it. But you have your whole high school, college, and working careers to figure that out, Dad said without a hint of condescension. It’s not a simple solution, and it is definitely something you should pursue in the long term. I just don’t think you’ll have enough conclusions to present by this spring.

I sighed. He was right, but I still hated being told something couldn’t be done, even if it was for realistic reasons that I couldn’t control, like time. I’ll think about it, I said.

Good. Look, Jenny, I should pack for my flight home, Dad said. It was great to see you, kiddo.

Dad lived in Manhattan except for the four times a year he took a break from the city to stay in Thurgood, Pennsylvania, where he claimed he could fully detox from the city’s carbon dioxide, fast pace, and deafening noise. That was when we visited him, too.

I love you, Dad said. And email me your introduction when you’ve got it polished. I promise I’ll read it over ASAP. I’m sure it will be great.

I will, I said. Love you too. I hung up, tossed the phone between our seats, and turned up Leo’s music. It was the least I could do for him since without Leo’s wheels or driver’s license, I might not make it to Thurgood once a year, let alone four times.

From my window I tried to catch a glimpse of Pawali Lake, though without the light of day it was all one dark mass below us.

A second later, a fiery glow emanated from a mountain only a few peaks away from us, like a beacon or flame.

Leo, do you see that?

The music stopped and static spat through the speakers.

What? Leo jabbed at the MP3 player and swore.

Forget the music – look! I pointed to where he should’ve been looking anyway, straight ahead of us.

His head shot up. What the hell?

What is it? I asked. The orange glow grew brighter and bigger and made it hard to tell how far off – or how close – it was to us. The music cut out completely. In the quiet I heard a boom, like exploding fireworks followed by heavy thunder. A strong, acrid smell settled into my nose as the car swerved.

Shit! Was that a bomb? What do we do? Leo asked.

Keep your eyes on the road! I yelled.

I’m trying! Leo said.

Try harder!

What the hell was that?

I don’t know. I shielded my eyes. I don’t know.

Chapter 3

Leo

My body ached like it’d been crushed in a mosh pit. Except I’d avoided pits since I sprained my finger at a Dropkick Murphys show. So it had to be something else.

I opened my eyes. I was in my car. The sun’s rays cut like razors into my retinas.

Jesus, I muttered.

A moan came from beside me. Jenny.

Where are we? she asked, her voice rough.

I felt my head for wounds. My fingers slicked up with sweat but not blood.

Leo? What happened?

As if I had a clue.

You crashed, didn’t you? Jenny clutched her head and cringed. I can’t believe it. Why do you drive like such a maniac?

I didn’t crash. My own voice hurt my head. I reached to the back seat and groped around for a drink. I found a shopping bag of bottled waters, pulled them to the front seat, and handed one to Jenny.

She drained half her bottle. Do you remember what happened or don’t you? Her voice shook.

I didn’t blame her for freaking out.

Leo!

I’ll figure it out, I said. It was a better answer than admitting my memories of last night were as blank as a corrupted MP3 file. I rolled out of the car. The motion made me gag but nothing came up. I leaned onto the dewy hood and scoped out the scene.

The road was empty except for stray twigs and rocks. A bird flew by, squawking. I sucked in some fresh air and recognized the narrow country road that we took to and from Dad’s. On our left, tall grass filled the dirt until it hit a natural rock wall. The elevation soared into the Appalachian Mountains. On our right, the rocky shoulder cut down to a steep slope and then into Pawali Lake.

Jenny’s door creaked open. Did we hit a deer? Or take down a tree or something?

She was always the one bragging she had answers, but my head hurt too bad to say so. I circled the car, looking for any sign of damage. My back stayed straight so Jenny wouldn’t know how bad the spinning was in my head and gut.

We didn’t hit anything, I concluded.

We must’ve at least hit our heads. Jenny stood and faced me over the hood of the car. Her scrutinizing squint made me look away. But you aren’t banged up. Neither am I. How long have we been out here? Didn’t we leave Dad’s last night?

When had we left Dad’s? Not soon enough, I was sure of that.

We did leave last night, Jenny said. Do you remember anything?

We left Dad’s last night, I agreed. After dinner. It had been an awkward conversation over reheated lasagna.

Jenny looked up at the sun. So that leaves, like, twelve hours unaccounted for?

I guess, I said.

She glared at me and rubbed her temples. Can’t you try to help me out here?

I am trying! I slapped the roof. It stung my palm and radiated up my arm.

Maybe we had our oxygen cut off from our seatbelts or something, Jenny said.

How? My throat felt fine. It might’ve been the only part of me that didn’t hurt.

Jenny ducked into the car, came out with her purse, and then pulled out a prescription bottle. Give me your hand. She passed me