1 Chapter 1: Emergence Day (1/2)

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”Hey, dad.” Said Luca, his voice tired and bored after his morning at school. ”How much longer is this going to be? We've been stuck on the road forever, and I still have to do my homework. Mr. Spicer will kill me if I don't turn in that history report. He's already extended the deadline twice.”

Paul chuckled. ”Don't be dramatic kiddo; he's not going to kill you. He might call me up and give me a stern talking to about my duty as a parent to make sure you're doing the homework he assigns you, but that's about the extent of it. Besides, I know how good you are with computers; I'm sure you won't have any trouble knocking out that report as soon as we get home.”

Crossing his arms from the backseat, Luca sulked down into the chair. He was ready to get out of the car. ”Well, dad, what about my physical therapy appointment? You know Doctor Murphy says I might be able to walk again if I'm doing everything I'm supposed to. ”

Paul looked back at Luca through the rearview mirror was a sad smile on his face. ”That's right, kiddo. With a lot of grit, determination, and a little elbow grease, you'll be ready by Morp to take one of those girls you're interested as a date to the dance.”

Luca didn't say anything in response, choosing to glare at Paul instead. Thinking to himself, Dad should know better. I hate it when he teases me about the girls. ”Whatever you say, dad. How much longer is it going to be? I don't want to miss another appointment.”

With an excessive amount of showmanship and a silent wish to whoever might be listening for patience, Paul unlocked his phone and turned on the GPS application, wanting to show Luca what Paul could judge for himself just by looking out the window. On the screen of the phone, the GPS showed every route displayed in red. Instead of the 10 minutes, it should have taken them to reach their home; the GPS was showing estimates in the hours. The road had become a parking lot, and they were stuck on it.

”Here, kiddo,” Paul said, turning toward Luca and tossing him the phone with the GPS navigation screen still loaded. ”When your done looking at traffic, feel free to go ahead and stream a movie; I'm not worried about you eating through all my data. It looks like we're not going anywhere for a while. Maybe you should go ahead and pull up something up on the web for your report. That might help, right?”

”Alright. Thanks, dad. Yeah, I'll do that. I'm sure I can pull up a lot about the historical significances of crows during the early formation of the Kingdoms of Ancient Britannia.” Luca sarcastically responded as he started to flip through the streaming service for something to watch, completely ignoring his dad's idea.

Confused, Paul turned in his seat, the belt across his chest straining, and asked, ”Wait a second kiddo. What exactly is your history report on again?”

Luca shook his head. ”It's a joke, dad. I have to do a report on George Washington Carver. You might know him as the guy who invented peanut butter, but what he should be known for was his work to prevent hundreds of thousands from starving during the reconstruction.”

That's not really any better thought Paul. His face held a grimace. A grimace he tried not to let his son see. ”Alright kiddo, I'm sure you've got that down. Just let me know if you need any help.”

They sat in silence without talking to each other for at least an hour as Lucas stared, entrapped by the glowing screen as his eyes remained peeled to the movie he was watching. The boy was completely unaware of the world around him. Paul frowned as he heard the sounds of screaming and gunfire. I really need to put some child safeguards on my stuff.

Taking his eyes off the unmoving traffic all around them, Paul turned around again. ”Hey, kiddo, what exactly are you watching back there,” Paul asked, concerned thinking maybe he needed to implement some child content locks on the phone in the future.

”I'm watching the History Channel, dad; it's a video on the Reconstruction of the South. I've got closed captioning turned on. That way, the noise won't bother you.” Luca responded, his voice edged with a little bit of attitude, something which immensely infuriated Paul.

”Hey Luca, you need to watch your tone with me. I don't need any of that attitude you're trying to test me with right now. I was kind enough to let you use my phone, so you can go ahead and turn it down or turn it off.” Paul replied forcibly. Patience, be patient with him.

Paul made an executive decision to ignore his son's continued disrespect as Luca, with an exaggerated sigh, make a shown of being unable to turn down the phone. Muttering as he did in a bitter low tone, quietly but still intentionally loud enough for Paul to hear, ”I wish you had died instead of mom.”

Memories of Marie flashed in his head. Images of the woman he had loved and lost. Black hair with an easy crooked smile, the smell of lavender, and chamomile. Infectionious perfect laughter, a memory of a woman known for her kindness. With a sad expression, Paul turned back around to focus on the road and his thoughts. Me too, kiddo, me too.

The sound of gunfire and screaming started back up again, this time only louder. Why is he testing me today? Paul turned around angrily, raising his voice and shouted. ”Didn't I tell you to turn that down. Just what the hell are you watching anyway??”

”It's not me, dad. See?” Responded Luca, the tone of his voice matching Paul's as he held up the phone in frustration, the mute icon highlighted as the video of a speaker at a museum outside of Atlanta played.

Nearby, the sound of glass breaking tore Paul's attention away from the argument with his son. ”Did you hear that? What's that sound? Luca, you need to stay here and keep the doors locked unless I tell you otherwise. Don't move, don't speak, and turn that video off and stay off the phone. Just be ready to call emergency services if anything happens.”