(DRAFT) Artificial Terror

Chapter 16: Resulting Products

I couldn't let him destroy what my uncle worked on. They're all that I have left! The word secrets resonated with me. I knew other secrets and the same with other survivors. Maybe I have a bargaining chip. I looked straight at the general.

     "You're forgetting my power as a whiteness."

     Goodship raised an eyebrow. "What power?"

     "You forget the survivors and I saw government secrets down there, many of which could have ramifications."

     "Go on."

     "Well, we as survivors want to tell our story to the world," I explained. "All of our heroics and perils. If the global community knew nuclear fusion was achieved, how would they feel to hear it being kept to the U.S.?"

     The general's face hardened with rage, but smoothed out to defeat. "You make a good point, I admit. Your audacity to threaten a general and the U.S. government can end you in federal prison."

    "Of course."

     "Fine, you can have the flash drive, but you have to keep quiet. Everyone does."

General Goodship slid the flash drive across the desk and I caught it. I placed it in my pocket alongside Uncle Henry's glasses. The general got up from his chair and walked over to the door.

     "Before you go, I want to say I've never met a teen with such a tongue like yours," he said as he opened the door. "Goodbye, Timothy. Have a good rest of your life and let's hope to not meet up again."

I left and stood in the first floor hallway. A lot weighed on my mind, so I entered the bathroom. Time to myself before facing fame. Blake stood at a urinal. A bit awkward. I walked to one of the sinks and washed my hands. Blake broke the silence.

     "So, have a good chat?" He asked over the noise of the sink.

    "Uh..yeah," I replied. "We cleared up some stuff about what happened. What did you do when I was with the general?"

    I heard a flush. "The captain showed me images of the blast which destroyed the facility. Smoke's pouring out of there." He stood at the sink next to mine.

    "That area won't be habitable for hundreds of years." I finished washing my hands. "By the way, want to swap phone numbers?"

    "Uh, duh. Let me finish here."

I let Blake finish washing his hands, and we swapped phone numbers.

    "Now what?" He asked.

    Good question. I smiled. "We go out there and tell the people a story," I answered.

For the next few months, it was all interviews and publicity. The world let me heal up before swallowing me into the media circus. All across the globe, I told a limited version of my story. Not the version I wanted to tell, yet it appeased audiences. Government agents shadowed me, although I learned how to spot them. Besides them, people asked for autographs, pictures, and so much more. One interview asked me if I planned to write a book about my experience facing Charlotte. I replied, "I don't think so." It wouldn't happen until a little over two years later when I read to my first reader on a trip through the Mojave Desert.

The sun created a heavy slab of heat as I scrutinized a collection of red rocks. I found a cluster of boulders beside an abandoned picnic spot. For him. Using the foothold and handholds to climb, I placed a pair of glasses at the top. I slid back down and landed down on the sand. As I looked back, the sun's rays spectacled off the lenses. Uncle Henry would've loved it. Satisfied, I returned to the car.

    "Did you find the right place?" asked Blake. Sweat glistened on his forehead.

     "Yep, it's just right." I smiled. "I hope the wind doesn't knock it down."

     "I hope so, too, but now get in here. This heat's killer."

I gave a silent laugh and pulled open the passenger door. The feeble AC pumped little air, not even cold. Better than none. I sat down in the seat and buckled up. We packed the car up for a roadtrip to the Pacific Northwest, yet we stopped here for the day. Blake turned the key, the engine roared, and slammed the gas. The car left the sand and sped off on the dusty roads ahead. Cacti, sand, and tumbleweeds blurred into a colorless mass. Car radio blared Blake's rap playlist.

     "Have you had any nightmares since the whole ordeal?" He asked.

     "Sometimes, but not often. Why do you ask?" I replied, gazing at him.

    "They reappeared this month. Those damned hallways..."

    "Haven't you told your therapist about them?"

    "No. Did you tell your therapist about yours?"

    I rolled my eyes. "Of course, I did."

    "I should tell mine," Blake said, but he changed the subject. "How was your graduation?"

    "Not bad. I gave the speech, given that everyone voted for me."

    "You never got with someone?"

    "Is this what you're after? If I'm single?"

    "Okay, you caught me, but I'm your best friend, I should know."

    "Oh really? Well, remember when we stopped at that town a while back?" I started. "While you went for a leak, I met a guy who recognized me, and we hit it off. We swapped social media."

      "You did? Why didn't I see him?" Blake asked.

     "You took ages, and Leon finished shopping. Are you jealous?"

     "I'm watching out for you."

     "I am for you as well."

    "Thanks." Blake smiled.

The conversation died for a moment as music played from the speakers, and the landscape rolled by. I need to message Leon soon. I pulled out my phone and checked for messages. Blake noticed.

    "How far have you gotten in the book?"

    "I'm through the first few chapters, but it's been rough to write," I explained.

    "Mind if you read the first chapter? It'd make the trip go faster."

    "Sure, let me pull it up."

I tapped my screen, and the first chapter popped up.

     I cleared my throat and read, "'Pine trees blurred into a sea of green in the reflection off my glasses.'"