PART 1

With a sense of unease creeping up my spine, I take a seat at my desk and prepare to dive back into the story. The memories are still fresh, vivid, and haunting, but I know I can’t leave it unfinished. So, with trembling hands and a pounding heart, I take a deep breath and begin once again.

***

The two men escaped the chaotic scene and drove away with us in the back seat. My mind tried to process what I had just witnessed. The men in the car with us were silent, and we didn’t dare to speak. After a while, one of them turned to us and said, "You’re lucky we found you. If we hadn’t, you would never have seen the light of day again. Now, who the bloody hell are you?”

“Why did you rescue us if you don’t even know who we are?” I asked.

“A friend of the cause said you were important and told us about the transport,” the man next to the driver said. “He said you could be of help in our struggle. Now, who are you?”

“We’re not from around here,” Shanice said. “We’re legally married, in this country, and we were on our way to our honeymoon.”

“You’re from New York or something?” the driver asked. “Coming here for your honeymoon?”

“No,” I said. “But listen, something strange is going on. On our way here, something fell from the sky. And it—” I was interrupted by two strangely round helicopters appearing overhead. The driver took a sharp turn and continued up a smaller road which was covered by the canopy of some trees and sped up. “It was a meteor of some kind, or maybe something else.”

“A meteor?” asked the man next to the driver. “Our source told us you had some connection to the Japanese, but that he didn’t believe you were spies. So, what’s your deal? We do some dealings with the Kempeitai… sometimes, and only when it benefits the cause.”

“We’re Shanice and James Robertson.” Shanice leaned in between their seats. “And we’re from The United States of America.”

“Is this for some kind of game?” asked the driver. “Anyway, I’m Omar and my friend here is Khalid. We’re members of the AJS.”

“What’s that?” Shanice asked. “Some socialist movement?”

“Say what?” asked Omar. “You don’t know about AJS? The African Jacobin Society? The only true rebels in this country, the one and only revolutionary organization fighting for the old liberté, égalité, fraternité?”

Having evaded the choppers, we entered a garage adjoining a dilapidated house in what looked like a poor suburb. There were some other people staying at the house, sitting in a circle and having a discussion. The youngest was a ten-or-so-year-old girl. As soon as we stepped out of the car, they all stood up and looked at us suspiciously.

Omar introduced us to them, still holding his rifle as if ready to point it at us at a moment’s notice. “These are the people we were told you about.” He spoke to the group. “Shanice and James. They claim to be married and from The United States of America. Now, in our hearts we’re all from The United States of America… but I’m getting the feeling they mean something stronger. And not only that but they’re also affiliated with the Japanese somehow.”

“I know it’s difficult to believe,” I said. “We were traveling down what you call Rebel Route, which is called Route 1 where we’re from, and then out of the blue something came down from the sky…”

“We think it was a meteor,” Shanice continued. “A part of it crashed right next to our car and the rest of it mysteriously vanished from the sky before it hit the ground. Otherwise, it would’ve destroyed the entire region.”

“Fairy tales!” said an old man in the group. “This is what you risked your lives for? That’s what you risked revealing our position for? They must’ve escaped a mental institution. This isn’t a story by Jules Verne, it’s reality.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Khalid. “They were transported inside one of CLEA’s armored wags. Granted, it was traveling alone, but still… These two individuals are clearly important to them, which means they’re an asset no matter their bizarre cover story.”

“You aren’t going to sell us out, are you,” Shanice said, “because that would be ironic. And we aren’t lying, there’s something going on beyond our—”

“We won’t give you up,” said Omar. “But we didn’t rescue you only of the goodness of our hearts, either. We’re fighting for freedom and enlightenment for everyone, and you’re going to have to play a part in that fight whether you want to or not. I’m hoping you’ll do it willingly. If you’re Japanese spies, you should want to bring down our government just as much as we do.”

Shanice picked up her phone from the evidence bag. “We aren’t spies. In our world, where we’re from, The Empire of Japan — The British Empire too — dissolved a very long time ago. Democracy won, slavery was abolished, and the United States become one of the greatest nations on Earth. That’s the truth!” She held up her phone. “And I can prove it to you right here, and right now.”

She turned on her phone and unlocked it. This, just seeing the device turn on, seemed to create a bit of a reaction.

“Is that European?” asked a woman. “I’ve never seen such a small VB before.”

“It’s American-made,” I said while Shanice went through her album. “We call it an iPhone, but the more generic term for it is a cell phone. I’m guessing you have those as well?”

“Oh, a mobile phone,” said the little girl. “Yeah, we have those, but they don’t light up like that and the most popular one is called a Dixie Dialer. It’s kind of both a calculator and a phone because you can access the netway on it.”

“Okay,” said Shanice. “Watch this.” She held up the display and then played a video she took during a large Black Lives Matter rally in Washington, D.C. Thousands of people, mostly African-Americans, had shown up. American flags — the good version — could be seen everywhere and the Capitol Building could clearly be seen in the background. The group looked at the screen, confused and bewildered judging by the looks on their faces.

“I want to see too!” said the girl whereupon Omar picked her up and let her watch as well. “What’s going on?” she then asked.

“This is our capital,” Shanice said. “Washington, D.C.”

“I-I can’t believe my eyes,” said the old man. “That building was burned to the ground a long, long time ago. How—how on earth is this possible?”

“We don’t know,” I said. “It had something to do with that meteor.”

After the video finished, everyone was silent for a moment. Omar sat down on a chair with his face in his palms, most likely trying to make sense of what he had just witnessed. In a matter of minutes, a big part of their worldview had been shattered. The little girl spoke up before anyone else:

“You said slavery was forbidden in your world, but then why was everyone shouting all those things?”

Shanice crouched down and faced her. “What’s your name?”

“Celine.”

“Well, Celine, even on my Earth — where we defeated the south during the civil war — people still treat our people unfairly. Just as the idea of the United States never died here, the idea of the Confederacy never died on my Earth. An idea can’t be killed very easily, for better or for worse, so even where I’m from we have to fight every day to keep racism at bay.”

“It’s real then,” Khalid said. “I don’t know how else to explain it. Sure, we have moving pictures, but nothing comes even close to that and certainly not on a small device — not even the Japanese ones. What now? What does this mean?”

A discussion ensued, and it was hard to keep up with what everyone was saying. Some argued for exploring the possibility to trade with our world, some argued for showing the black community the video to inspire hope and get the revolution going and some argued that it was all just some kind of trick — even after what they had seen. In the end, Omar raised his voice.

“We need to focus on the here and now. Eventually, this can mean a number of things — great things, for sure — but for now, we have to focus on how to make use of this unique situation right now. I say we set up a trap for CLEA. They’ll be desperate to get their hands on Shanice and her husband. We can use that to negotiate the release of some of our leaders. Maybe even Léon Moreau! We could decide on a place that’s to our advantage, and then we ambush them. Having some of our captured leaders back would mean a lot to the cause.”

“Hold on,” Shanice said. “If we’re going to be the bait here, we need some guarantees that once all of this is over, you’ll help us get back home. From there—if it’s at all possible—we can establish some kind of alliance between our worlds.”

Omar stepped up to her and grabbed her shoulder. “By the light of truth,” he said, “I promise we’ll do what we can to help you when it’s time.”

“You would need to help us get back to the impact crater,” I said. “They’ve set up a roadblock there, possibly a base, and it’s heavily guarded.”

“What do you all say?” Omar asked the group. “Once we’ve lured CLEA into our trap and freed whomever they’re willing to trade, are you willing to get your hands dirty yet again to help our new friends and to establish contact with our brothers and sisters in their world?”

Everyone nodded in agreement. A plan was quickly formed. They would set up a meeting place in a secluded area outside of the city and make sure to have enough people and weapons to take on CLEA. Shanice and I would be the bait, just as initially suggested, and would have to be ready for anything. The very idea of it caused my heart to race with anxious anticipation. Shanice felt confident that we could trust them, but I wasn’t equally convinced. Did they truly believe us, and did they value us enough not to sacrifice us to get their people back? The odds didn’t really matter though, this was the only alternative—our only hope.

Later in the evening, after most of the planning was done, we sat with the group in front of what they called a Visionbox—or VB for short—and watched the news. Everyone was silent as the anchor, a blonde woman with a Confederate pin on her blazer, read the news.

“Good evening, America. Tonight, we bring you the latest developments in the escalating crisis in the Pacific. The world is on edge as the Empire of Japan sent its naval fleet to Hawaii to stop the British Empire from deploying nuclear weapons on the island. The situation is getting tenser by the hour, and the threat of war looms over the region.”

Footage of the naval fleets in the Pacific, with ships and submarines moving about, appeared on the screen.

“Emperor Satoru has made it clear that he will not allow Hawaii to become a nuclear weapons platform,” the anchor continued, “and has issued strong warnings to both the British Empire and the Confederate States. The CSA has responded by mobilizing its own naval fleet into position, and tensions are high as the two sides stare each other down.”

A map of the Pacific with markers showing the positions of the fleets was shown as the Anchor continued; “The stakes could not be higher in this game of brinksmanship. With the world watching, the slightest miscalculation could lead to a catastrophic conflict that could engulf the entire globe. The Japanese fleet, led by the fearsome Tsukuba aircraft carrier, is a formidable force that has the capability to strike at Hawaii with devastating force. Meanwhile, the British fleet, which includes the newest and most advanced battleships in the world, is determined to protect their allies and their strategic interests in the region.”

Back in the studio, an expert commentator was interviewed.

“This is an incredibly dangerous situation,” he said. “The Japanese are known for their fierce pride and their willingness to fight to the death. They see the deployment of nuclear weapons in Hawaii as a direct threat to their national security, and they will not back down easily. The CSA—”

“These maniacs,” said a young woman in the group who appeared to be Celine’s mother. “Don’t they understand that we’re living on the same planet?”

“They would rather see it destroyed than in enemy hands,” said Omar who had his arm wrapped around her shoulder.

“There’s a new calculator game that’s taking the gaming community in the Confederate States storm,” continued the news anchor, “but it’s also causing some controversy among certain groups. The game, an ice cream truck simulator from a French software company, has become incredibly popular among families, with gamers of all ages enjoying the fun and light-hearted experience. However, there’s one character in the game that’s caught the attention of some Confederate citizens. The game features a female ice cream vendor who is dressed in a revealing outfit—a so-called French swimsuit which is illegal in most states—that some believe to be inappropriate for a family-friendly game. The French company has defended its character design, stating that it’s meant to be a fun and playful representation of the ice cream vendor profession and that they had no intention of causing—”

Omar turned off the screen. “It’s getting late,” he said. “Let’s meet here tomorrow morning.” He looked at me and Shanice. “You two can stay here with me and Yolanda.”

Yolanda, Celine’s mother, turned toward him.

“Isn’t that dangerous? What about Celine?”

“Relax,” said Omar. “Khalid, could you please stay as well? Just to make sure we’re all as safe as we can be.”

Yolanda didn’t seem happy about it, but she accepted it.

The next few days were a blur of preparation and anticipation. We trained with the African Jacobin Society and learned how to use their weapons. Shanice and I also shared our knowledge of advanced technology and strategies from our world—albeit only on a very basic level—which seemed to amaze and inspire the group. Celine followed us everywhere and asked us endless questions about our world and our lives, and Shanice was always happy to tell her stories.

Finally, the day of the ambush arrived. Omar made contact with CLEA and successfully made some kind of deal with them. The sun was shining almost mercilessly, and the air was thick with tension. Shanice and I were dressed in clothes provided by the group, and we both had weapons concealed on our bodies. We were ready for whatever was to come, although it didn’t feel like it.

I sat next to Shanice in the back seat of Omar’s car. The radio was on, playing unrecognizable pop songs, and Khalid—next to Omar—held a burning cigarette outside his window. They seemed relaxed, albeit still worked up. Shanice held my arm tight. I tried to stay calm for her, but it was useless. My heart was racing, and I constantly had to wipe the sweat off my forehead.

We arrived at the agreed-upon location, a deserted industrial area outside the city, one hour or so before CLEA was to be expected. They parked the car in a secluded part of the area and remained seated. The AJS had their men placed everywhere, ready to ambush CLEA as soon as they arrived. All that was left to do now was to wait. It wouldn’t be long, but every second felt like an hour. The music on the radio, now put to a low volume, came to an abrupt stop.

“You’re listening to A-OK America, your source for all things happening in the Confederate States of America. We interrupt this song to bring you an urgent update from the Pacific. Reports are coming in about a major explosion in the waters near the Hawaiian Islands. Details are scarce at this time, but sources say that the explosion occurred in the vicinity of a Japanese naval vessel. It’s unclear at this time what caused the explosion or the extent of the damage, but it’s believed that this could be a significant event in the ongoing standoff between the British Empire and the Japanese Empire in the Pacific.”

Khalid turned up the volume slightly.

“The Confederate government has yet to release an official statement regarding this incident, but it’s likely that this will only escalate an already precarious situation. We will continue to monitor this developing story and bring you updates as they become available. In the meantime, we advise our listeners in the Pacific region to stay tuned to A-Ok America for the latest news and updates on this developing situation. Now: Some words from our advertiser’s before we resume our regular—”

“I think they’re here now,” said Omar. “Get ready.”

We drove down to the open area in the middle of the complex where the prisoner exchange was supposed to take place. One of CLEA’s armored vehicles stopped a few yards away from us. For a few minutes, nothing happened. I pressed Shanice’s hand.

“It will be all right,” she said. “As soon as this is over with, we will find a way back home.”

I gulped, wiping sweat from my brow. “I-I’m so damn scared.”

“Me too.” Shanice kissed me. “But this is important. This means something. Maybe we were sent here to help this world somehow.”

“We have some new developments in the ongoing standoff in the Pacific.” The host on the radio was back. “According to sources, the explosion earlier was not an accident. It appears to have been a deliberate attack by an unknown vessel. The Japanese have issued a statement accusing the British Empire of launching the attack, while the British have denied any involvement. As things seem to be happening quickly now, we’ll stay on the air covering this story as it develops—”

Two people finally stepped out of the vehicle in front of us. They were dressed in the same black cloaks as the agents from earlier. One of them opened the back of their vehicle while the other one spoke into a megaphone.

“We’ll now present the prisoners! Step out of the vehicle and show us the individuals known as Shanice and James Robertson.”

One of their helicopters circled above, and a number of additional armored vehicles could be seen further down the road.

Khalid, now holding his rifle, yelled out the window:

“Show us Léon, or there’s no deal!”

I looked at the rifle I concealed under my jacket, hoping I wouldn’t have to use it. If they showed Léon first, the plan was to attack immediately seeing that he was the most important one to them. In that case, me and Shanice wouldn’t have to get out of the car. That was unlikely to happen though, as they knew how much they wanted Léon back. Instead, they were in all likelihood going to show us someone of less importance first, after which the AJS would have to show me or Shanice in exchange for seeing Léon.

“You know that’s not the deal!” the agent yelled back.

I could feel my heart racing, and my hands growing slick with sweat. Shanice’s fingers brushed against my own, and I could tell she was just as anxious as I was at this point.

"We have to be ready for anything," I whispered, my eyes never leaving the CLEA agents in front of us.

Shanice nodded, her grip on her own weapon tightening.

And then, as if on cue, the CLEA agent who had spoken through the megaphone made a sudden movement, and I heard the unmistakable sound of a gunshot. I couldn’t tell who had fired—or why—but in a split-second, everything turned into chaos. The AJS fired down from their hiding places. The vehicles down the road, never having turned their engines off it seemed, drove up to us at full speed. Armed men—dressed similarly to a SWAT team—rushed out of them and opened fire in all directions while running toward our car.

Shanice acted on instinct, pulling out her rifle and returning fire. I followed her lead, unleashing a hail of bullets that echoed through the deserted industrial complex. Khalid turned to Omar.

“Get us out of here, now!” he yelled. “They never intended—”

A bullet pierced the back of his head, blood splattering everywhere.

For a few chaotic moments, it was anyone’s guess who would come out on top, if anyone at all. AJS members emerged from other vehicles, exchanging fire with CLEA agents who were scrambling for cover. I caught glimpses of AJS members darting through the shadows, taking down their enemies with expert precision. But the CLEA agents were no slouches either and their own firepower was formidable.

Omar, seemingly in shock, finally stepped on the gas——kicking up a cloud of dirt with the tires as he made a sharp U-turn——and raced toward the exit while yelling for his people to retreat even though no one could possibly hear him.

Explosions and gunfire echoed behind us, but I didn’t look back. We reached a highway that luckily wasn’t very busy. Two of the armed vehicles and a smaller, sleeker, vehicle with its sirens on followed close behind us. Omar took a sharp turn and drove down a ramp that led to a smaller road. The helicopter—like a giant horsefly—flew at a low altitude a few yards to our right. Khalid’s dead body was tossed here and there in its seat as the car turned and Omar had to push it away from him time and time again.

I couldn’t imagine a way for us to get out of this situation. More police cars appeared behind us as we approached Richmond. This was the kind of situation that never ended in favor of the pursued.

“BBN is showing some footage now,” said the host on the radio with a trembling voice. “T-There’s images of a flash of light, followed by a massive eruption of water and a shockwave. The destruction is catastrophic. I-I fear the worst. This is a nightmare. If this was a nuclear explosion, it’s hard to overstate the magnitude of the damage. The fallout from such an event could have far-reaching implications for the entire world, as we have been hearing from experts all morning. We are now seeing images of smoke and debris filling the sky, and it’s clear that this is a truly devastating event. Our thoughts and prayers are with all those affected by this terrible tragedy. This is, no doubt, a critical moment in history, and it’s important for the Confederate government to act swiftly and decisively to ensure the safety and security of all those in the Pacific.”

I couldn’t quite fathom what they were saying in my state of shock, but Shanice picked up on it and said:

“It’s all falling apart, James.”

The sun beat down on us as we careened through the streets of Richmond. I looked at Omar in the rear-view mirror in front of him. His face was set in a grim expression as he navigated the twisting roads.

The white marble buildings of the city rose high on either side of us, the grandiose statues standing out in sharp relief against the clear blue sky. We were passing a giant statue of Confederate General Robert E. Lee when I heard the sound of gunfire from behind us.

I spun around in my seat, my hand going to the concealed weapon at my side. The armored vehicles and chopper that had been pursuing us were still on our tail, their drivers intent on capturing us at any cost.

Shanice was shouting for Omar to speed up as he swerved to avoid obstacles and civilians. I could see the determination on Omar’s face in the rear-view mirror as he put the pedal to the metal, his driving skills pushed to the limit as he weaved between other vehicles and narrowly avoided collisions.

“Just moments ago,” said the host on the radio, “we received troubling news about the British Broadcasting Network. Reports are coming in that BBN, the official news network of the British Empire, has abruptly stopped broadcasting. We are unsure at this time what has caused this sudden halt, but the situation appears to be serious. Rumors are already circulating about people hearing air sirens on BBN’s latest live broadcast, although nothing has been confirmed. We are also unable to get in touch with our London-based correspondent. Our attempts to reach her have been met with silence. This development only adds to the already tense situation in the Pacific. With the recent reports of a possible nuclear explosion in Hawaii, it’s unclear whether the cessation of BBN’s broadcasts is related to the ongoing conflict. Lady Margaret Russell has not yet issued a statement on the matter, and it’s unclear what steps they are taking to address the situation. As always, A-OK America will continue to provide you with up-to-date information on this developing—”

As we approached a tight turn, Omar slammed on the brakes and we skidded around the corner, the pursuing vehicles hot on our tail. I could hear the sound of metal scraping against metal as we collided with obstacles in our path, but Omar never slowed down. I could see a giant statue of Stonewall Jackson up ahead, his stern visage seeming to judge our desperate flight through the city. The CLEA vehicles were closing in. But just as it seemed we were out of options, Omar spotted an opportunity. He veered sharply off the main road and onto a narrow side street, the pursuing vehicles unable to follow as they were forced to slow down to navigate the tight turn. We shot down the alleyway, the sound of our engine echoing off the walls. Omar expertly navigated the tight corners and narrow passageways, keeping us one step ahead of our foes. Finally, we burst out onto a wider street, the sound of our pursuers fading into the distance behind us. I breathed a sigh of relief, but then the oddly shaped helicopter descended right in front of us, whipping up a thick cloud of dust and debris, and reducing our visibility to nearly zero. The noise was deafening as the helicopter descended, the whir of the blades slicing through the air like a razor-sharp knife.

Omar brought our vehicle to a screeching halt, throwing the gears into reverse as we struggled to avoid colliding with the strange machine. The next thing we knew, we were surrounded by both CLEA and the police. For a few moments, we sat in silence as more and more officers arrived with their guns pointed at our vehicle. The only thing we heard was the radio, filling us with just as much dread as what was happening around us.

“Just now, a video surfaced on the netway, showing what appears to be a missile launch from the state of Virginia. The video is grainy, and it’s difficult to make out the exact details, but it’s clear that these are some sort of long-range missiles being launched into the sky. I repeat, we have just received footage of a missile launch from Virginia. We do not know the intended target or the reason behind this launch, but we are working to get more information as soon as possible. Wait, hold on. We are receiving an Emergency Alert. Let me play this for you now.”

BEEP BEEP BEEP.

“This is an emergency alert. All residents within a 100-mile radius of the following cities: Richmond, Virginia, and Washington, D.C., are ordered to seek immediate shelter. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill. Take cover now. This is an emergency alert. All residents within a 100-mile radius of the following cities: Richmond, Virginia, and Washington, D.C., are ordered to seek immediate shelter. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill. Take cover—"

“Step out of the vehicle now!” yelled a uniformed man into a megaphone. “You’re surrounded and we will use force if necessary! This ends now!”

Omar looked down at his dead friend, only sadness visible on his face, then he turned to us. “I’m truly sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what went wrong. This wasn’t supposed to happen. And now the world seems to be falling apart. Our journey ends here, my friends. Do you want to surrender?”

“What difference would it make?” Shanice said. The emergency alert was still being broadcast, over and over and over again. “I’m so sorry, James.”

I felt a lump in my throat as my heart sunk to my stomach. CLEA agents slowly approached us, their fingers ready on their triggers. All of a sudden, a deafening alarm cut through the air, drowning out the man with the megaphone and causing everyone to pause. The siren was unlike anything I had ever heard before—a deep, pulsing sound that seemed to vibrate through my bones. The agents and police officers around us looked confused, no doubt unaware of the breaking news. Then, a few of the police cars drove away, most likely disobeying their orders to stay put. The man with the megaphone turned around and shrugged. Someone beckoned him to return to the helicopter. For a few moments, people were frozen in confusion—awaiting orders or information—but then more and more of their vehicles began driving off and when the helicopter started its engines everyone panicked as if they all instantly understood what was approaching.

“Drive,” Shanice said. “Drive! Drive! Drive!”

Omar, as if jolted out of a reverie, quickly shifted the car into gear and sped away. No one paid any attention to us anymore. The officers still standing on the street just watched us as we drove past them. Further ahead, people were running for shelter while others remained sitting at restaurants and cafés as if waiting for everything to blow over. As we drove past an imposing building, I craned my neck to take a closer look. The marble dome of the structure was enormous and gleamed in the sun. The white columns of the facade rose high into the sky, and I could see a large Confederate flag flapping in the breeze. On the front lawn, there were several large black vehicles parked, and I could see people in gray uniforms hurrying toward them. A large helicopter was taking off from a pad, its blades churning the air and making a deafening sound. I guessed that it was their Capital building and thought about how in just a few minutes it would be reduced to rubble. For a second, I found some comfort in the thought of all of this being swept away by a radioactive blast wave, but then I thought of all the innocent people that would suffer, and my comfort turned into a deep sense of sorrow.

***

Omar flung the door open to his house. He yelled for his wife and daughter, desperately and with tears running down his cheeks. At first, it didn’t look like anyone was home, but then Celine appeared in a doorframe, holding her doll close to her chest. Omar rushed up to her and picked her up in his arms.

“My little girl,” he said and kissed her forehead. “Where’s Mommy?”

“She went to the city to buy some food,” she said.

At that very moment, a light many times brighter than the sun flashed outside the window, blinding us. The sound that followed was deafening, like a thousand thunderclaps all at once. The house shook and debris rained down from the ceiling. Omar instinctively shielded Celine with his body, trying to protect her and I covered together with Shanice behind a sofa. Luckily, we were far enough away from the blast for the heat wave to not cause any serious harm, but the shockwave hit us hard, knocking us off balance. As we got up, we could hear the sound of shattered glass and the clattering of metal outside.

“We have to get out of here,” I said, my voice barely audible over the ringing in my ears.

Omar nodded, his eyes filled with fear and sorrow. He picked up Celine and motioned for us to follow him. We made our way through the rubble, careful to avoid stepping on any broken glass or sharp edges. As we stepped outside, we could see the mushroom cloud forming in the distance, its ominous shape rising up into the sky. Slowly, the blue sky from just moments ago was swallowed up by the smoke from the firestorm in the city and as the sun shone through it the landscape was colored a sickening shade of orange.

Outside, the scene was one of complete devastation. Buildings were in ruins, cars were overturned and burning, and survivors were running in all directions, some screaming and crying, others silently staring at the destruction. Here, too, the air was thick with smoke and dust, and the smell of burning metal and chemicals filled our nostrils.

“We need to find a way out of here,” I said, my voice trembling with fear. “We can’t stay here much longer, or the radiation will get us.”

The car we had come with was blocked by a tree that had fallen.

“Omar,” said Shanice, “we need a new vehicle!”

Holding Celine in his arms, he brought us to their garage. The car there was luckily unharmed by the blast.

“But where do we go?” he asked, almost as if not fully there.

“We’re going back to the crater on Rebel Route,” Shanice said. “It’s our only hope now. This world has nothing more to give.”

Omar nodded absentmindedly. He told us to get in the car. I sat down next to him, while Shanice placed herself next to Celine in the backseat.

“Are we going to get Mommy?” asked Celine. Omar froze in place, clearly unable to form the necessary words. “We need to go get her,” continued Celine, “she might not be able to find her way back home alone.”

Finally, Omar turned to her. “We’ll try our best to find her, sweetie," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But right now, we need to focus on getting to safety. Your mother wouldn’t want us to stay here and get hurt."

Celine could see on her father’s face that he wasn’t telling her the truth, and she burst into tears. Her cries wracked through her tiny body, her sobs full of fear and loss. The tears streamed down her face, her chest heaving with each breath, as she clutched her doll tighter. Her heart was being ripped apart, and the weight of the world was crushing down on her small shoulders. Although she couldn’t understand it, she now knew she had lost the most important person in her life.

Omar, now crying himself, leaned over the front seat and pressed his daughter’s hand. Shanice and I exchanged a pained look. And then Omar returned to the wheel and turned on the engine. As he did so, the radio came on. The emergency alert had been replaced by a female version of Dixie’s Land, undoubtedly the last song ever to be broadcasted in what now once was The Confederate States of America. Omar turned the radio off and slowly drove into the inferno outside.

***

The road was mostly empty, indicating how few had managed to escape the city before it was too late. The further away we got from Richmond, the clearer the sky became. Soon, though, the smoke would find its way here as well. Colossal pillars of smoke could be seen on the horizon no matter in what direction we looked, and they were all slowly but surely consuming the sky.

When we arrived at the location, we approached the tents that had been set up around the meteor crater carefully. There was a man standing next to a police car, holding his Stetson hat and smoking a cigar. I immediately recognized him as Carlos. By now, it was clear he had been the one who told the AJS about our transport to Richmond. He shook Omar’s hand, expressing his regret when he noticed that Yolanda wasn’t with us.

“I came down here soon after Richmond was hit,” he said. “Everyone’s gone. They all left. Most people in town left too. Someone said we were too close to the city… Something about the radiation. I was about to leave too, but I wanted to check this out first. And let me tell you, there’s something here that’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.”

“The crater?” I asked.

“Let me show you,” he said and took a puff on his cigar.

We followed him toward the biggest tent, located where I expected the crater to be. And, just as I thought, it was there. Carlos walked up to the edge and beckoned us to join him.

“My God,” said Shanice as she looked down into the hole. “It’s beautiful.”

At the bottom of it was a small pile of a strange material. The substance looked almost like a liquid, with a shimmering quality that seemed to change in the light. It was an otherworldly shade of violet, but as I looked closer, I realized that it seemed to contain bits of every color imaginable, as if they were all swirling together in an indescribable dance.

“It’s making me nauseous,” I said. “I felt the same thing just before it hit the ground. It just feels off.”

“This is our way back,” Shanice said. “It’s what brought us here, and I believe it can bring us back home.”

I picked up a rock and threw it down the crater. Before it reached the bottom, it vanished. “It must be some kind of rift in reality.”

Shanice grabbed Omar by his shoulders. “Come with us! There will be a place for you and Celine there. We’ll find a way to integrate you into society. You’ll be free. And you too, Carlos. All we have to do is to jump down that hole and—”

“I’ll stay,” Carlos said. “I have responsibility for the people left in town, and someone needs to stay to rebuild. Eventually, the dust will settle here. Or maybe it won’t, but I got to try. Besides, someone has to make sure this meteor doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

“And you, Omar?” Shanice said. “Please, think of Celine.”

Omar nodded in his typical way, then he shook Carlos’s hand. “Thank you, friend. I would’ve stayed and helped you rebuild, but I have to think about Celine. I need to do what’s best for her. This world has nothing but misery to offer her.”

Carlos watched as the rest of us approached the edge of the crater, holding hands. Celine stood next to her father, holding her doll, still sobbing. Shanice counted to three, and then we jumped. As we fell through the rift, the world around us warped and twisted, colors blending and shapes distorting in a way that made me feel sick to my stomach. It was like being caught in the middle of a kaleidoscope, but a thousand times more intense. I closed my eyes and braced myself for impact, but when I opened them again, we were no longer falling.

“Where are we?” asked Celine.

I opened my eyes. We were all laying down on the ground. There was no crater here, just some grass. Next to us, there was some kind of probe that must have been sent through the rift from the other side. It had the Confederate flag painted on its side. Further away, I could see a road. We all got up on our feet and walked toward it. It didn’t take long for a car to stop for us.

“This question might seem strange to you,” I said. “But is this The United States of America?”

The lady in the truck laughed. “Why, of course, it is! What happened to you people? Are you okay?”

A smile appeared on Shanice’s face and tears formed in her eyes. “We were on our way to our honeymoon and… You know what, it’s a long story. Would you mind giving us a ride?”

“I’m on my way to Richmond,” said the lady. “I can drop you off there.”

I turned to Omar who held Celine in his arms. “Welcome to the United States of America. Prepare to see Richmond as you’ve never seen it before.”

We all crammed ourselves into the car. And as it drove away, we sat in silence—too tired to speak—as the car radio played Survivor by Destiny’s Child. Shanice rested her head on my shoulder, and—listening to the lyrics of the song—I somehow knew that everything would be all right from now on.

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