The Long Fall of Night: The Long Fall of Night, #1

By AJ Rose

In a flash, everything changes.

When NYU student Asher Caine's uncle calls to warn him something big is coming, he has no idea it will be so devastating. Not even years of training can prepare him for what he's about to face. The only plan he has is to get his sister and nephew across country to safety, whatever it takes.

The darkness is full of potential. For good or evil, only time will tell.

Elliot Davenport isn't about to let his Chemistry lab partner leave him behind, though he's never done a spontaneous thing in his life. Ash is mysterious, aloof, and so damned sexy, Elliot can't get the guy out of his head. But his crush takes a backseat as the gravity of the situation becomes clear: the eastern two-thirds of the United States has gone dark.

What happens when all the rules change in a split second?

200 million people are without access to sustainable food and water, let alone coffee and the Internet. Facing the worst humanitarian crisis the western world has ever seen, the government calls the military to step in. The entire military.

The soldiers of Team Shockwave are tasked with evacuating civilians to the safety of refugee camps, and then patrolling the new border between the East and West. Shockwave are on the front lines and the fate of an entire nation rests on them.

Welcome to the long fall of night…

• Language: English
• Publisher: AJ Rose
• Release date: Jun 16, 2015
• ISBN: 9781513068039

Book preview

1

CHAPTER ONE

Day 1

New York City, New York

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People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there’s a light from within.

—Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

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THE END OF ALL THINGS usually starts with a phone call, and this time was no different. Asher Caine fumbled frantically for his cell on the bedside table, trying to answer before it woke his roommates.

’Lo? he rasped, squinting at the alarm clock: 5:32 a.m.

Ash. Uncle Marvin. Ash sat up, instantly alert, the sheet pooling in his lap. His 5:30 was Marvin’s 2:30. That alone would have been enough to wake him, even without the warning that came next. Destiny is on her way. You need to look sharp. Marvin always spoke in code on the phone, and Ash smiled despite himself.

What’s her type? he asked, trying to pin Marvin to specifics of the danger without outright questioning which scenario he meant.

Oh, she’s a dark and mysterious one. She’ll keep you on your toes. But she has soft spots. Likes hiking, fishing, hunting. Should be an interesting date.

Why is Destiny always a girl? Ash thought petulantly. Why couldn’t she be a drag queen with a lot of sass and a nice surprise under her skirt?

Got it. Ash kept his thoughts where they belonged: in his head. What should I wear? What will I need most?

Flashlight.

Shit. Okay. If I like her, maybe you’d like to meet her. If this means what you say, I’m coming to you.

Maybe Charlotte would, too. Bring your sister. Ash’s heart skipped a beat. This could be bad.

What else do you know about her?

I’ll send you an email with her measurements. Details to follow.

I have class tonight. Think she’ll be around this afternoon, or is tomorrow more likely? How much time do I have and how likely is this? While Ash believed Marvin, there was always a scale of probability in his theories. Ash had too much riding on his shoulders, not to mention his multiple scholarships, to jump the gun if it came to nothing.

Twenty-four hours. Maybe twice that, if what I heard is true.

She kind of a flake? How certain are you?

Aren’t all women? There’s a chance it’s nothing. Ash breathed in relief. Be ready, but wait. That, he could do.

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pg brk 1

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Ash heard the heckling before he saw the confrontation. Rounding the corner to Rogers Hall at the Polytechnic Engineering Institute of NYU in Brooklyn for his Chem Lab class, he spotted three guys crowding someone not immediately visible, someone pushed against the side of a nice car parked on the street.

This fancy car help you get laid, Davenport? one guy sneered.

Ah, shit. Ash shouldered his heavy backpack more firmly and stalked closer. Elliot Davenport, a guy Ash had known for the last year from various classes, wasn’t exactly the type to stand up to a bully. He was a people pleaser, so nice he sometimes made Ash’s teeth ache, and a bit dewy-eyed. They were lab partners, Elliot being the only sophomore in a class full of juniors. He was brilliant, if entirely too innocent. Both in bed and out of it.

I don’t know what you’re talking about. T-This isn’t m-my car, Elliot stammered.

Of course it’s not, one of the goons said sympathetically. You’ve probably never fucked a girl in your life. How does a guy get to college and not get laid?

Three on one. Shitty odds, but better Ash be the one in that equation rather than his partner, who’d probably never learned to punch. Ash’s mental image of the kid in high school was that he’d earned immunity from the jocks by helping them pass their classes. The three looming over him now weren’t exactly asking for extra tutoring. The foot traffic around didn’t acknowledge the quartet, except to shoot annoyed glances for interrupting the walking flow. If the kid needed help, it was Ash or no one.

You gay, Davenport? What’s it like, sucking a cock?

Elliot’s reply was brave, stupid, and weakly delivered. You looking for pointers?

You calling me a fag, you little dickmonger? Goon #1 went from cruel teasing to outright threatening. Where the guy was tall and thick-necked, Elliot was dwarfed, if not in height, then in stature. He was trim, with light brown hair that curled a little as it grew out, his expression lending him a startled prey look. Wide eyes behind thick-framed glasses darted about, desperately seeking an escape route. Elliot’s geeky lankiness hit Ash’s buttons just right, though Ash knew from experience it didn’t take much to intimidate Elliot. That didn’t mean he should get poked by idiots. Or beat up, which seemed like a bigger possibility now that he’d mouthed off. You offering to suck me off? I heard a come-on in that question, cock queen.

Okay, enough. Ash cut through the bodies on the sidewalk to step in. He pushed up his hoodie sleeves, revealing impressive tattoos in the setting, early-April sunlight. He couldn’t be sure if the bullies knew him on sight, but he wasn’t above pressing his every advantage. His tall, muscled frame wouldn’t be enough in this fight, but he’d hate to bother getting a new lab partner, and these things often fizzled if someone pointed out the douchebag behavior.

Assuming there’ll be any lab classes in a week, flitted through his head, but he shoved the thought away. That was nowhere near certain.

He bumped his shoulder hard against the guy who had Elliot cornered, using the weight of his backpack to add emphasis.

Leave him alone. Ash squeezed in, backing the bully posse up a few steps.

Aw, look, Elliot! Your boyfriend’s here to rescue you, Goon #1 crowed, the other two jumping in with cackles like the hyenas they were.

Ash beckoned the guy closer with the crook of a couple fingers, noting when he took in the ink and then the rest of him: shaggy dark blond hair falling nearly to his chin in relaxed waves, his jaw scruffy but neatly trimmed, and a calm look of amusement disguising steely dislike in his blue eyes. He also had that unmistakable quality all scrappers have—ferocity. The goon’s expression went wary, even as he leaned in.

Are you aware, Ash began, it is no longer okay to be a homophobe? Especially at that volume. Keep your voice down before you get your ass kicked, dude. He made sure to be conversational, though his muscles were tensed to spring. Elliot, still flattened against the car, scoffed. Shut up, twerp. Ash glared at him, and Elliot quailed.

Hey, I’m cool. My cousin’s gay, Goon #1 assured him.

Your cousin a big guy? Ash clapped him on the shoulder, staying friendly.

About six-three, two hundred. Why?

Because if he knew you just used your relationship to him to justify being a bigoted jagoff, he’d probably kick your ass. Plus, I might want his phone number. It’s obvious he’s got all the brains in your family.

"You’re gay?" Goon #1, in his surprise, apparently didn’t register he’d been insulted.

We come in all types. Ash widened his arms, letting the asshole take him all in. Tattoos, daring glare, smartassed mouth that wielded sharper wit than this idiot could ever hope to battle and win.

Look, Goon #2 said, raising his hands placatingly. We weren’t making fun of him for being gay. I don’t even think he is. Ash suppressed a snort. He’d spotted Elliot way off, the first day of class, and had enthusiastically confirmed it the last three months. Hell yes, he was gay. Goon #2 went on. I don’t have a problem if he is.

Ash glowered at them, having stolen the upper hand. Looked to me like you do, considering you just called him a fag and thought he was hitting on you when he was just trying to defend himself. You shouldn’t have a problem if he’s a virgin either. Nothing to do with you unless you’re planning to pop his cherry. He focused on Goon #1. You’re not, are you?

Elliot cleared his throat. As if. Kid couldn’t shut up for two seconds to save his own ass.

Goon #1 paled and backed away, his friends already turning to go. Fuck no.

Then leave him alone, Ash warned. Permanently.

Whatever you say, man. Goon #1 turned and sauntered off after his friends as if they hadn’t a care in the world and hadn’t been tormenting a weaker kid. Ash shook his head, hefted his backpack more firmly onto his shoulder, and finger-combed his hair off his face to focus on Elliot.

You okay?

Wow, Elliot said reverently. I can’t believe you did that. There were three of them.

I can count. Ash held back from rolling his eyes—barely. Yeah, I know. Are you okay, though?

Are you one of those people with congenital analgesia?

Huh? Ash stared at him blankly, his patience beginning to fade. Elliot’s mind was sharp as a scalpel, but he was often six steps ahead of everyone else. If there was one thing Ash hated, it was feeling stupid.

You know, one of those people who can’t feel pain. Like you can take a punch and grin like you’re a superhero or something. Because if those three guys had started pounding on you, it would have been one hell of a hurt is all I’m saying. So it would make total sense if you jumped in because you can’t feel pain.

I feel pain just fine, Ash replied, getting exasperated despite fighting a smile. Just answer the question so we can go to class. Are. You. Okay?

Elliot waved a hand at the end of an arm that seemed too long for his body. I’m fine. Man, I was scared, though. They moved toward their building, where class was set to begin momentarily. After a pause, Elliot asked softly. Did you really want his cousin’s number?

No, Ash said, torn between amusement and another eye roll. Elliot may have been one of the smartest people Ash had ever known, but he could be a bit dense. Especially when it came to people. I was trying to make the dude uncomfortable. Guys like that don’t want to think about things like butt sex. Elliot’s face turned a furious red, making Ash laugh and have mercy on him. I don’t want to have to find a new lab partner who will let me do the blowing shit up part while he takes all the boring notes. He grinned wickedly. Or the blowing. It was purely selfish.

You know what I think?

You’re going to tell me anyway, Ash guessed. Elliot didn’t blink at the aggrieved sigh Ash emitted, much as he tried to stifle it. Ash didn’t try to be a dick to the guy, but sometimes his sarcasm ran all the controls. They had an arrangement, study partners with benefits. Elliot may have wanted more, but Ash couldn’t afford the distraction.

I think you’re an asshole to people because you’re a decent guy and don’t want anyone to know it. Elliot bounced along like a squirrel having gotten into a discarded, half-full can of Red Bull.

Ash gave him a scathing look that would have withered anyone else, but Elliot only grinned. Why wouldn’t I want anyone to know that?

Oh, lots of reasons, Elliot went on. You like people to be wrong about you. You like it when they don’t think you’re smart, so when you say something brilliant, they’re caught off guard.

Ash’s insides squirmed uncomfortably. Elliot wasn’t far off the mark, not that Ash would ever admit it aloud. Most people took one look at him and underestimated him, thinking the tattoos and shaggy hair meant he was an idiot. Many pegged him for hard, physical labor, not because he was big and bulky, but because he had an air of rebellion that typically went with someone who had no use for school and worked with his muscles, not his mind. That couldn’t be further from the truth, and when people discovered he was an NYU student studying Biomolecular Science and getting his masters in Biotechnology at the same time, they didn’t know what label to slap on him. He liked it that way.

But Elliot apparently saw right through the armor.

Look, he sighed wearily, stopping in the lobby of Rogers Hall, the sun streaming in the windows at his back, forcing Elliot to squint to look at him. I stopped them because I have a problem with homophobia. It’s not because I’m some kind of hero, or— He stopped the words your boyfriend from exiting his mouth. There was no need to be cruel, even if he’d clearly stated his intentions from the beginning. Fuck buddies who helped each other study for tests. That was it. I just want to go to class, get my degrees, and thumb my nose at everyone who said I’d amount to nothing. Frankly, I don’t need psychoanalyzing either. We study together, and sometimes do other stuff, hang out, whatever. Don’t read anything into it, okay?

Elliot deflated but threw out a bright smile so quickly, it couldn’t be sincere, making Ash wish he’d been nicer.

Sure. I mean, that’s the arrangement. They stood awkwardly for a moment, and Ash turned and pushed through the stairwell door. Um, maybe we could hang out after class tonight? Elliot asked hopefully, following close on his heels.

Yeah, okay, he agreed before considering if he should. He had other things on his mind as he trudged up the three flights of stairs, hunched beneath the weight of his backpack. It was heavier than usual with the extra supplies he’d packed. His cellphone, three backup batteries and one of those portable chargers that held four charges, a handheld GPS, a flashlight, and all his cash in the world—$1,200—were individually wrapped in foil, stuffed in plastic zipper bags, then arranged inside a cardboard-lined metal cookie tin with aluminum tape tightly wound around the lid to make sure there were no gaps in contact. Uncle Marvin had sent an encrypted email with a few more details of his suspicions, including the type of problem he expected and coordinates he wanted Ash and Charlotte to stick to on their trek across the country. Ash had spent the day packing what little he could and making sure the cookie tin was secure. As soon as class was over, he intended to write down the coordinates he hadn’t had a chance to transfer, so if his phone became nothing more than a glorified flashlight, it wouldn’t matter. His bag also contained a change of clothes in place of his schoolbooks, a small first-aid kit, and a few bottles of water. The only text he carried was for his immediate class.

It would have to do until he could get away and supply up.

As they reached the top of the stairwell, Elliot zigzagged behind him. Ash tolerated the chatter as they emerged on the floor where their classroom was located, several students already at their stations, perched on tall stools. Each table bore two half-filled flasks with no labels. The day’s experiment was written on the whiteboard with the page number of their text that contained the instructions.

Ash blocked Elliot out while pulling materials from the supply cabinet, returning to their station with laden arms. He was glad to have work distract his partner so he’d stop with the babbling. While it used to irritate Ash to no end, the more he’d gotten to know the guy, the more he got used to it, but tonight he was on edge. Elliot studied the text, murmuring as he read to himself, a quirk that also used to annoy Ash. These days, he found it sort of endearing.

Identify unknown aldehyde and unknown ketone, Elliot read, gesturing to the unlabeled flasks, the nervous, fumblingly awkward guy from the street all but gone. This was the Elliot Ash preferred—serious, smart, and focused. He had to be, to keep up with upperclassmen and their workload.

Elliot pulled out his notebook and hooked his stool toward him with a foot, prepared to take notes while Ash performed the experiment. Ash donned a pair of gloves before handling anything, setting up their test tubes and checking the nearby steam bath and ice tubs for the second part of the assignment. The room was quiet as everyone buckled down, their professor, Dr. Hunt, walking among the tables to observe.

They set to work, mixing acetone with each unknown liquid before dropping chromic acid into test tubes and waiting for the reaction to turn blue-green. Ash timed the speed at which the reaction took place and indicated to Elliot which was aldehyde and which was ketone. It was a boring experiment, but in a way, Ash was grateful, given his concentration was so divided.

Minute sounds of glass pipettes clacking against tubes and flasks lulled Ash as he found his element, forgetting bullies, over-eager partners, pressures with his grades and scholarships, or the fact that his roommates were jerks who kept stealing his laundry quarters. He swore Jared, who shared his bedroom was fucking his girlfriend in Ash’s bed to avoid washing his own sheets.

All that fell away while they worked, though his earlier argumentative call with his sister Charlotte resurfaced. Charlotte hadn’t wanted to hear his admonitions.

Stop right there, Asher, she’d said. Even if I cared about whatever warning Uncle Marvin saw fit to scare you with, I don’t speak prepper. This code you two have worked out makes you sound like a grade-school kid with his first walkie-talkie. Riley even thinks you sound stupid, and he’s ten and worships you.

Charlotte, just because Marvin lives the way he does doesn’t mean he’s crazy. One of these times, he’s gonna be right. What will you and Riley do when that happens? he countered.

In case you’re forgetting, I grew up in the same family as you. I have several months’ worth of supplies, and a kid to think about. That’s what normal people who prepare for disasters do, Ash. Hunker down until the threat is past.

He rolled his eyes. Lotta good those things will do when desperate neighbors break down your front door because all you have is a flimsy lock and no way to defend yourself.

She scoffed. I am not building booby traps in my yard for my kid to trip when he comes home from school, and I will not have guns in this house.

It was a tired argument, one they never resolved. She thought Uncle Marvin was a crackpot, living in a bunker with contingency plans for several disaster scenarios, and she refused to believe he had a shred of credibility. To be fair, ninety-nine percent of the people who met Marvin agreed. Hell, Ash took most of what the man said with a grain of salt. But he knew not everything Marvin believed was as crazy as Charlotte said when she really ranted about their only living extended relative. The fact he wasn’t technically blood related didn’t diminish him in Ash’s eyes, but he always wondered if it made a difference to Charlotte.

This time, however, there had been something in Marvin’s voice, a quiver of either anticipation of being validated or fear that one of his scenarios might actually come to pass. Either way, Ash was on higher alert than for any prior warning of Marvin’s.

Just be ready if I show up, he told Charlotte.

She blew a weary sigh. Stay in the city, Ash. I can take care of myself. Despite the tense conversation, they’d said their I love yous and promised to speak again in a few days. As much as they disagreed, they also understood the fragility of being human and how quickly life could change.

Ash blinked out of his reverie with the burn in his biceps, wondering how much more remained of the fifteen minutes he was required to swirl the aldehyde in the flask.

As if reading his mind, Elliot glanced at his watch and said, Three more minutes, then you can stop.

Ash looked out the window, noting the darkness tempered by the bright lights of the city he called home, setting the night sky on fire. The rhythmic motion of his arm, the quiet, and the calm he felt in his element among the books and formulas gave him a much-needed sense of security.

Until the lights went out.

There were gasps of surprise from the other students, and the crash of glass as someone dropped their flask. The silence was suffocating as the vents, usually so much white noise, ceased blowing and the fluorescents’ regular hum disappeared. The quiet lasted a few seconds before the entire class spoke at once.

Everyone remain calm, Dr. Hunt intoned, his deep baritone cutting through the sudden chatter. This building has a generator. It’ll kick on in a moment.

Ash sat on his stool, eyes widened in a futile attempt to see through the inky black. His heart pounded.

This is it. He stepped away from the table full of chemicals, fumbled for his Zippo, and struck it.

Mr. Caine, Dr. Hunt snapped. Put the flame away this instant.

Relax, sir, Ash said with confidence. I’m not near the experiments.

Regardless, the lights will be back on shortly, and this room contains more compounds than just tonight’s work. Extinguish your flame or receive a failing grade, Dr. Hunt warned.

What are you doing? Elliot hissed. Put it out.

He did as he was told, blinking as his eyes adjusted. Another student whined their cellphone wouldn’t power up so she could access the flashlight app, while her partner pulled out her keys, which held a tiny yet powerful MAGLITE. Ash could have pulled his phone from the protected cookie tin, but he didn’t want to fumble with all that in the dark. Besides, he feared battery life had just become precious.

Carefully, he picked a path through the tables to the window on the opposite side of the room, dread gnawing his gut like a rodent in a fast-food dumpster. He almost didn’t want to look, but he had to.

The entire city was dark.

Someone came up behind him and gasped. It’s all out, Elliot said, standing so close Ash felt his breath on the back of his neck.

The class crowded the three windows in the room, trying to see the dark swath of nothingness beyond the glass. New York City was totally black. Ash took a good look, knowing he was witnessing history.

What does that mean? one guy asked.

Power is out everywhere, duh, someone answered.

Wait, no it’s not. Look.

In the distance, lights winked on. Maybe a hospital or an office building, Ash surmised, realizing generators were powering up. It seemed Dr. Hunt’s prediction of the building’s unit was off the mark, however. The room remained dark and silent, except for the shuffle of feet and people pulling out their phones only to mutter when not all of them lit up. Elliot went back to their station and sat.

Dr. Hunt rummaged in his storeroom and returned with a large flashlight, setting it on his desk to point at the ceiling. The glow left the corners dark, but provided enough light for Ash to see. He strode to his seat and stepped around Elliot, who’d picked up a pen and was tapping it against his notebook. If he thought Ash was sticking around until class was over, he was so very wrong.

Hey, does anyone have a phone? someone called. Mine is dead. I could have sworn I charged it before I left home.

Cell towers will probably be out anyway. They run on power, too, Elliot said.

No. The guy frowned at his phone, fingers growing increasingly frantic trying to call the screen to life. It’s totally dead.

Mine seems okay, his lab partner said, showing hers. No signal though.

Ash bent to grab his backpack from beneath the table, hefting it and no longer cursing its extra weight. Pack up, Elliot.

Mr. Caine. Dr. Hunt frowned, his bushy mustache twitching in disapproval as his forehead wrinkled with his raised eyebrows. His receding hairline was only a hint in the dimness from the flashlight. Ash barely glanced his way. Where are you going?

To drag my stubborn sister to Seattle, he thought. Aloud, he replied, I’m not staying in a room full of volatile chemicals, some of which need temperature control, while the building’s generator fails.

Oh, but it’s safe enough for your lighter? Dr. Hunt retorted.

Well, no. You told me it wasn’t, Ash threw back. He flipped his notebook closed and shoved it down in the depths of the bag, beside the map of the state he’d swiped from Jared. He zipped the bag without packing the textbook.

Aren’t you forgetting something? Elliot asked, trying to hand the book to him. He either hadn’t heard Ash tell him to get his shit together, or he didn’t want to.

Giving his partner a last meaningful look, he shook his head. No need for it anymore. You staying? He didn’t have time to wait, but he gave Elliot a few seconds. When no answer came, he turned to leave.

Mr. Caine, Dr. Hunt protested. Hey! Ash ignored him.

Asher! Elliot called.

Something in Elliot’s voice made him turn around. The whole class was staring.

I’m going somewhere safe. You all might want to do the same. He banged out the door after giving his friend a pointed look.

He was halfway down the nearest flight of stairs, the batteries in the emergency exit signs powering the eerie red lights which turned everything a ghostly, washed-out red, when the sound of rapidly descending feet reached him.

Ash, wait! Elliot called.

Catch up! he returned, not slowing as he ran lists in his head, the order of his next steps. He needed to get to Charlotte and Riley.

Where are you going that’s any safer than here? Elliot asked breathlessly.

Almost anywhere else will be safer than this city in a couple days, he answered cryptically, making the next landing down.

Will you wait a minute, Nostradamus? Elliot snapped. Ash stopped, surprised by his insistence. He hadn’t realized the guy had it in him to bark. Elliot scowled at him through the thick frames of his glasses. What do you know?

Ash sighed, grabbing Elliot’s elbow and pulling him along to keep moving.

The power’s out.

No fucking shit, Elliot said.

Whole city, dude. That’s not usually something that can be fixed in a day. So I’m getting out until it’s safe to return. You can come or stay, but I don’t have time to wait for you to decide.

I’m sure it’ll be fine, Elliot said, his feet slapping on the tiles of the lobby.

Ash pointed to the blackness beyond the windows. Tell that to all of New York. He kept going until Elliot smacked his shoulder with his abandoned chemistry book.

You left this. Elliot’s voice was tinged with fear and denial, as well as a heavy dose of skepticism.

Thanks. Ash took the book and dumped it in the nearest trashcan as he emerged onto the street. He tried not to care if Elliot believed him or not. It wasn’t his problem. His sister, nephew, and uncle were. As much as he’d sometimes enjoyed Elliot’s company, Ash had his priorities.

Are you insane? Elliot harped.

Ash wheeled around, sick of being held up. He kept an eye on their surroundings, noting the chaos, including traffic, was currently controlled, but for how long? Cars honked, but what else was new? Though he did see a stalled one nearby. He filed that away, the make and model of the dead vehicle. He grabbed Elliot’s upper arms, getting close and speaking clearly.

"Don’t you get it? The power is out in the entire city. There’s a chance it’s more than just us, okay?" He realized how paranoid he sounded, but if he was right? He had to get out. Now. He kept his volume down, but the words were no less fierce. It could be days, weeks, even months before it’s fixed. What do you think people are going to do while they wait? What did they do during Hurricane Sandy? Roast s’mores and sing Kumba-fucking-ya? I’m going. If you’re smart, you’ll come with me, but I don’t have time to wait while you work it out. He stalked off toward his apartment, not intending to go there but working up the nerve for the first two things on his to-do list: steal a car and get more supplies than he’d been able to fit in his bugout bag.

"I’m not stupid, you know. So the city is out. How do you know it’s bigger, Ash?" Elliot almost whined, keeping pace despite Ash’s long, purposeful strides.

Have you got a phone? Elliot pulled an iPhone out of his pocket and waved it. Try to turn it on, Ash instructed. The screen remained stubbornly black. It’s fried. A regular power outage doesn’t do that.

Elliot threw up his hands. What are you saying? This is a solar flare or something odd that took out the whole country?

Ash stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, a frisson of fear dragging up his spine like a resurrected zombie shambling for brains. If Elliot wasn’t coming, he needed to ditch the kid before he got to the illegal stuff, and it clearly wasn’t happening until he explained what he knew. He was uncomfortable enough with breaking more than the underage drinking laws. Last thing he wanted was a witness or to get Elliot in trouble. "I don’t know. I have no evidence for anything. All I know is my uncle, who keeps his ear to the ground about foreign stuff and terrorists and shit like that, called and told me if something unusual happened, to get out of the city. He sent me an email and said to be prepared. I need to get to my sister and nephew before any inmates do. I’m not going to sit around and wait for this place to descend into Lord of the Flies."

Elliot stared at him, confused, eyebrows furrowed but opening his mouth to ask another question.

Ash lost patience and snapped, Are you staying here or coming with me? Elliot’s eyes went wide. Ash got right in his face, their lips an inch apart. If you’re staying, I’m gonna kiss you goodbye and walk away. Five seconds. He paused long enough to count down, while at the same time, giving Elliot a thorough eye-fuck for old time’s sake. Elliot’s skin reddened, and he demurely dropped his gaze.

Time, Ash said softly, then kissed his lab partner for all he was worth, with full body contact, holding his head captive with one hand and pressing his other into the small of Elliot’s back. Delving into Elliot’s mouth, he groaned when his startled partner got over his surprise and kissed back with equal fervor, the caress of tongues and clash of teeth not usual for them. Hell, the kissing was unusual. Ash was almost instantly hard and regretting there was no time for this. With one last sweep of his tongue between Elliot’s lips, he pulled back and looked into Elliot’s eyes. Then I guess this is goodbye. He ignored the pang in his chest, swinging around and striding away.

2

CHAPTER TWO

Day 1

New York City, New York

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Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.

—Edgar Allen Poe

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ELLIOT STARED AFTER ASH, indecision freezing him in place while his lips throbbed in time with his heartbeat. Ash was only half a block away when he became indiscernible from the inky shadows. There was a nearly full moon, so the edges of shapes held pearly highlights, hulking buildings cast shadows, and people scuttled like roaches fleeing sudden movement. Still, Elliot stood immobile.

He’s crazy, was his first thought.

What if he’s right?

What if I get stuck here when the power doesn’t come back?

What if I go with him? Worst case, I’m covered, and if he’s wrong, I’ve missed a few classes. Like they’ll have class anyway with no power.

Remembering the way Ash had looked him over, like he wanted to lick every inch of skin, Elliot’s face heated and his dick throbbed against the placket of his jeans.

Shut up, he scolded his treacherous body, even as his feet carried him after his lab partner. His mind reeled with possibilities, none of which he could dispute or shoot down. It sounded like a bad sci-fi novel, taking something proven harmless and giving it a sinister twist. But in a way, it was beautiful in its simplicity.

Human dependence on networks, computers, phones, the Internet, and indeed, the currents living in the walls of every building had exploded in the last few decades. Everything relied on electricity, from access to currency to distribution of food, sanitation of water, and the basic structure of society.

God, if Ash is right, we’re royally screwed, even if it’s just New York City. Elliot rounded the corner where he’d seen Ash disappear.

I want to go with you! he called to the retreating figure, scampering after him.

Ash made an impatient noise, but he waited.

I know you think I’m clueless here, but I can help you, he said as he reached Ash. I need to get somewhere I can call my parents. You’re not the only one with family, ya know. They’ll be worried about me. If they even knew, from their cruise in the Mediterranean.

Okay, you can help me. Can you hunt?

Elliot shook his head. I can learn, he promised.

So I guess you don’t know how to field-dress a deer or gut a fish? Ash asked, sounding mildly disappointed. Elliot again shook his head, feeling inadequate. Ever shot a gun? Again, a no. Can you cook or start a fire? What about hot-wire a car?

I can learn all of that, he promised. Except hotwiring a car. I already have one.

Ash stopped abruptly. You have a car? What kind?

Audi A5. Are you going to object if it’s a clunker? It was a sore spot for him, one of the myriad ways his parents shoved their agenda down his throat. But he didn’t go into any of that. If Ash wanted the car, he wasn’t above practically giving the damn thing away.

Ash ignored his jibe. How much gas have you got?

Full tank. Why? Since I never drive it.

Ash stalked him like a panther, grace and danger personified. A thrill tap-danced up Elliot’s spine, making his dick want to wave hello again.

Trying to figure out how long we have before we have to stop to steal more. It’ll be dangerous.

Elliot rolled his eyes. If you’re right, it’s more dangerous to stay here. Where does your sister live?

Upstate. About four hours away. Keys, Ash demanded, holding out his hand.

Who says you get to drive? It was an idiot thing to say, considering Elliot was in no position to fulfill the bluff. But it made him seem normal, so he went with it. He’d already made himself look stupid to Ash twice that evening, something he strove never to do in the hopes Ash would see him as more than a friend with benefits.

Ash shrugged. I’m driving. Your car with you in it or someone else’s alone makes no difference to me. Make up your mind. You’re wasting time.

Okay, okay, Elliot grumbled, fishing his keys from his pocket but keeping them close to his body when Ash reached for them. You can drive, but it’s parked in my building’s garage, so we need a cab anyway. If we’re going to my building, I want to grab a few things.

Ash was silent for a beat before dipping his head in acquiescence. Well, we can’t take the subway. Lead the way.

Elliot honestly thought he’d say no, they didn’t have time. As they backtracked to the engineering institute for a better chance to catch a cab, he took in their surroundings. His heart galloped and he was a little giddy. My father will have my head for this. The few people on the street paid them no mind, too wrapped up in their own situations. Many of them were looking at their cellphones in confusion, either waving them around, hoping a signal would light up the screens, or simply cursing their lack of usefulness.

He shivered, wishing he had his things from their lab class instead of darting after Ash, abandoning his jacket and backpack. Thankfully, he had his keys and wallet with him.

They flagged a cab in silence, and Elliot directed the driver to his street. So, uh…, Elliot tried, wanting to break the awkward quiet between them. What happens when we get to your sister’s?

Ash stared out the passenger window, his elbow propped on the door, the back of his hand pressed to his lips as they crawled in bumper to bumper traffic toward Greenwich Village. Elliot was beginning to think Ash was ignoring him when he finally spoke in a gravelly voice.

I try to convince her to go to our Uncle Marvin’s house.

Where’s that?

Hoodsport, Washington.

Elliot looked over sharply. As in Washington State?

Ash grunted an affirmative.

How are you getting there? Elliot asked, pretty sure he knew the answer.

However I can. Ash finally looked at him, his expression stoic in the flash of passing headlights. I don’t suppose you’d let me take your car.

Elliot pursed his lips. He wanted to say no. It was one thing, going upstate, but a ride coast to coast? Even as he felt the pull to give in to please Ash, he didn’t want to be that easy.

It depends on what happens when I reach my parents.

The corner of Ash’s mouth tipped up. Okay. Are you calling from your apartment?

Duh, power’s out. I can’t.

Duh, landlines might work. Phone companies have generators and a phone on a landline doesn’t need power as long as it’s not a cordless. Basic survival for a hurricane or earthquake.

Oh, Elliot said, feeling stupid. I didn’t know that. Well, that answered one question. With his cell dead—which made him twitchy, since he was without his music until they reached his apartment and his iPod—he figured he’d just borrow a phone when they got in an area where coverage resumed. Now, all he needed was a payphone. Not that he knew where one was, and it wasn’t like he could google.

Ash shook his head and clucked his tongue. So you can call from your house, right?

No, he said as the cab turned, finally, onto his street. I only have my cell. Which is dead.

Rookie move, Ash teased, tempering it with a smile.

Elliot wondered if he’d ever stop feeling like an idiot with a schoolboy crush around Ash.

They pulled up to his building on Mercer. He lived at the edge of the NYU campus in an area few students could afford. He and Ash studied almost exclusively at his place—more than studied, actually—so the jitters he would have felt bringing anyone else to his apartment weren’t there, for which he was grateful. Most people seeing his apartment would think his family’s wealth, not his merit, had gotten him where he was. He was of those Davenports. If Ash knew, he never acted like it mattered.

The cab pulled to a stop at the building entrance, and Ash shouldered open his door to exit while Elliot paid the cabbie. Julian, the paunchy, middle-aged doorman, held the door for them and lit the way with a flashlight.

Good evening, gentlemen. Have any trouble?

No, Julian. Have you any idea where I might find an operating payphone?

Julian considered. I’m sorry, sir. I’m not sure, and without power, I can’t have Tabitha run a search. Tabitha was the front desk girl on overnights. I know there’s one at the New York Public Library.

Ash snorted. "Yeah, we’ve seen The Day After Tomorrow, too. So have the rest of the people scrambling to make phone calls in this city." Ash strode to the door marked Stairs. Elliot gave Julian an apologetic shrug and followed.

Here, Julian said, holding up his flashlight. Take this. Elliot started to refuse, but Julian wouldn’t hear of it. We’ve got one for all the tenants until power comes back. Wouldn’t want anyone injured using the stairs in the dark.

Thank you, Julian, Elliot said, surprised by how much the gesture warmed him.

Yes, thank you, Jeeves, Ash teased with a hint of mean.

You gentlemen be careful, Julian replied, ignoring the dig. Please let me know if there’s anything you need.

They started up the steps, the flashlight beam bouncing off the white walls, their footfalls echoing eerily in the near silence.

Why do you do that? Elliot demanded. Julian has never been anything but nice to you.

I noticed you have valet service for your parking garage, and a doorman who’s more like a butler, but your building doesn’t have a generator? Ash ribbed, ignoring the question. Elliot wasn’t in the mood. He was too busy thinking Julian had no idea what was coming. The man had three daughters in high school and a librarian wife who loved to talk books with Elliot. They were nice people, and they could end up hurt. That’s not going to happen. Ash isn’t necessarily right. That thought was followed by, Then why are you going with him? But he knew why.

The generator at Rogers Hall failed. How do you know the one here didn’t as well? Elliot asked, running his hand over his forehead as sweat beaded due to the tight quarters of the stairwell. His legs ached from the climb.

Jeeves was way too calm. He’d have been assuring you someone was working on it if there was one.

Building maintenance would be looking into it, not Julian.

Ash let it drop. Elliot led them out of the stairwell and to his door, unlocking it and entering his sanctuary. He breathed in relief as familiarity washed over him, passing the flashlight to Ash since he could move blindly.

Ash shone the light over the long, narrow living room with white leather furniture across from a squat, black entertainment cabinet bearing a flat screen TV, an Xbox, and several games and DVDs. Elliot dug into a kitchen drawer for a long-stem lighter and lit a few of the candles scattered around the living space. When he had enough of a soft glow to see by, he moved to the bedroom and lit two more on his dresser.

I appreciate you trying to set the mood, Ash said, following him. But we don’t have time to get off. We’ve got to hurry.

I’m aware, Elliot snapped, hastily pulling a duffel bag from beneath his bed, yanking when the strap caught. He was still irritated at how Ash could be such an asshole to the doorman, someone Elliot considered a friend. Hell, Julian and his wife were two of only four people Elliot had confided in about his sexuality. He wanted to establish himself as someone to be respected, a force to be reckoned with, before he opened himself up to those criticisms. He certainly wasn’t going to come out while bullies were still slamming him into the sides of cars and calling him—

Gay. Kinda stupid hiding it if people are going to call me that anyway.

Ash was silent, playing the flashlight into the bathroom across the hall from Elliot’s bedroom. Elliot grabbed jeans from his dresser, t-shirts, and other necessities for a few days’ travel, and shoved them in the bag. He hesitated at his nightstand, thinking about the condoms and lube inside, and glancing at his partner. Ash was busy looking around Elliot’s room at a bookshelf in the corner bearing more DVDs, a couple Lego airplanes, and a framed photo of him and his parents on vacation in Paris. While he was distracted, Elliot fumbled with the iPod on his nightstand as a cover for getting in the drawer and shoved the supplies into his bag and his iPod in his pocket, never looking away from Ash. On Elliot’s bookshelf beside the planes was a Rubik’s Cube and Ash picked it up, giving it a few absent turns.

Aw, c’mon, Elliot complained, flopping an annoyed hand at his lab partner. You have to mess up my stuff?

You’re kidding, right? Ash asked, giving the cube a few more pointed turns. I guarantee you this is the least of our problems. He tossed the cube to Elliot, who awkwardly flinched and fumbled it as it hit his hands. He finally got it under control and tossed it into his bag. At least he’d have something to concentrate on while he was gone.

He ducked quickly into the bathroom for his toiletries. Hey, Ash. Bring the light. He couldn’t see shit.

Oh, grab that bottle of peroxide. Ash pointed. What else do you have that we can use?

Make yourself at home, Elliot said incredulously as Ash began to pull everything from beneath the sink, grumbling when all he found were shower and toilet cleaners, a package of toilet paper, and a bucket. When Ash moved to the mirrored medicine cabinet above the sink, Elliot stayed his hand. Do you mind?

Um, maybe if you have some ibuprofen or gauze pads? Some Band-Aids?

That cabinet. He pointed to the doors mounted to the wall above the toilet. The last thing he wanted was for Ash to go rummaging in his pill bottles. Elliot loaded up his shave kit while Ash grabbed a roll of gauze and an ace bandage, a bottle of Advil, and some antibiotic cream. The room was too narrow for him to step around Elliot, so he waited until Elliot returned to his room. Elliot’s movements were jerky as he shoved the peroxide in the side pocket of the duffel bag so if it leaked, it wouldn’t get on his clothes.

Ash came in behind him, wordlessly placing his armload beside the bag.

Do you have any bottled water? He seemed to have gotten that he’d crossed a line. Good.

"Yeah, in the fridge. Take what you want.