Angels Mark (The Serena Wilcox Dystopian Trilogy Book 1)

Angels Mark Chapter 4

Paul backed away, holding his hands up. “Fair enough, Madam President. I left a package with Miss Robertson that I think will interest you. When you see what I have to offer, I’m sure I’ll be hearing from you.”

Clyde was rugged without the handsome: oily reddish-grey hair that was sparse on top of his head, but long and stringy everywhere else; eyes set too far apart, giving him a wall-eyed look; a pitted face with a nose that snorted a long draw of mucus every few minutes.

“Morning!” he bellowed, in a deep voice that begged to be cleared of phlegm.

The sanctuary returned the greeting with a deadpan chant-like chorus of “Morning.”

“You don’t get Internet, and you get limited TV – just what the old rabbit ears pick up. You rely on us to keep you informed. That’s why it’s so important that all of you be here. Now I’ll turn it over to Paul Tracy.”

Paul was a man of frat-boy good looks. He was tall and lean, with thick wavy brown hair and perfect teeth – a refreshing contrast from Clyde. People were always surprised when they learned that the two men were brothers.

“Thank you for your faithfulness, and a warm welcome to the newcomers. Consider this your welcome wagon. You got your packet, and should have your new names.” Paul paused while the tell-tale rustle of papers indicated that people were opening their envelopes to look.

Serena turned to Tom, “Only our last names, right? We figured that we would have to. We don’t have to change our first names too, do we?”

Tom opened the packet. “They strongly suggested we change our names completely, but agreed to let us do only our last names.”

“Good! What is our new last name?

“Meadows.”

“Meadows?”

“You like it?”

“I guess so. Did you pick it, or did he?”

“He had a list. I thought it was the best one.”

“Okay, I don’t care. We’ll get used to it.”

“Right, that’s what I thought.”

“What else did he say?”

“We can’t communicate with people who knew us when we were the Bridge family. I said okay, but I know we’re not going to let our family and friends think we’re dead forever.”

“What does it matter, now that Mom is gone?”

Tom looked at her with his most sincere expression of sympathy and squeezed her hand. “She’s not the only person who cared about you.”

Serena didn’t answer. The grief was only six months old. She was still struggling to hold herself together. Being her mother’s caretaker had given her too many intimate moments with her. It would take time to heal, which was what she told herself whenever she felt like the rain would fall forever.

“As soon as things happen, we’ll contact everybody, but in the meantime, I think we should do whatever the off-grid people want us to do.”

“Exactly, I agree. What if we did all this and there was no reason to do it, and we’re stuck in hiding because we burnt down our own house? How many laws have we broken now? I feel like such a criminal.”

“I don’t think anything else was illegal, just the arson.”

Tom and Serena stared at each other and laughed at the absurdity, and the shock from a word like “arson” being owned by either of them.