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“You sure?” I ask. It’s Sunday, and we’ve had a solid thirty-six hours of relaxation, a rarity lately. She is flipping through a wedding magazine.
“Yes. We wanted it to be romantic and beautiful and meaningful, right?” I nod. “And ru
“But what if the impact is in North America?”
“Then we’ll get married in Venice or something.” Ly
Venice
.”
“How about Paris?” I ask.
She squeezes my leg. “That’s the spirit. Maybe Ireland? You always loved Ireland.”
“Mmm. That would be nice. What about the hills of Kilimanjaro?” Ly
She puts the magazine down and claps her hands. “I got it!” She turns and faces me. I’m excited by her excitement. “Las Vegas!”
I roll my eyes but laugh. I lay my head in her lap and we make plans for an international wedding. I do my best to be enthusiastic, but my excitement dies quickly. The plans remind me too much of what we did while waiting for marriage to be legalized in Texas. I’m tired of hope and dreams deferred.
• • • •
The conspiracy sites—the same ones that successfully predicted the asteroid’s collision with Earth and had been dismissed as written by nutjobs—are all stating that the impact will be in North America, even though the official a
The first website makes its a
I’m not surprised. Four hundred million people desperate to leave has overwhelmed the transportation infrastructure of Canada, Mexico, and the United States. As a result, only one thing has any value any more: A way out. Airline flights to Europe, Japan, Africa—anywhere other than North America—are impossible to find. Ly
us
?
• • • •
Ly
Ly
“So the fence that was put up to keep Mexicans out of America was keeping Americans out of Mexico?” I walk over and rub Ly
“People are dying, Em. It’s not fu
“They haven’t even a
Ly
are you serious
look. “Everyone knows that the impact is going to be in North America whether it’s been officially confirmed or not.” She’s right, of course.
“Then maybe that’s a good idea, fleeing to South America.”
“I told you. It’s
bad
. You don’t see the stories I see. Panama is a death zone. People are being shot, and that’s if they make it through the minefields or don’t bleed to death on razor wire.” She takes a long drink of her wine. “We’re on our own.”
• • • •
The official a
While I spend the day pondering being out of work, Ly
“Slow down,” I plead with Ly
She takes the wine and falls into her spot on the couch. “You know why I need to do this.”
We’ve been over it many times. It’s not simply that she is driven to report the reality of life; she is doing whatever she can to earn points with Star News. Her new strategy is that they’ll fly us out of North America in gratitude. Even after seeing her all over TV and the Net, I fear she is wrong, that she is wasting the last few precious moments we could have together.
“But drop something, even if it is some of the local stuff.” I set the table as we talk. “We should spend time together, before—” I don’t finish the sentence. It’s hard to talk about the impact, now only six months away, when there is only a remote hope that we will escape.
“Okay,” Ly
her
. “We
should
spend more time together.”
“Thank you. I’m just worried is all.” She doesn’t reply, but instead stands up and walks over and takes the spoon from my hand to help with di
I step back and watch as she stirs, feeling powerless as the silence lingers. “You shouldn’t worry,” she whispers. When I don’t reply, she turns and looks at me. I don’t know what to say, but it doesn’t matter. She is Ly
She smiles, the stress and weariness is gone. “Fuck it, let’s get married!”
• • • •
I talk to my mom and my dad, and Ly
As we tell our friends, the wedding is a beacon of light amidst the gloom. We set a date a month away. That is still five months before the impact, and the hope is that Star News will fly us out shortly afterward. I organize the wedding while Ly
I’m struggling to find a band for the reception when my phone rings. It’s Ly
“This fucked-up world has somehow done something right.” She is so excited that I can picture the phone shaking in her hand. “The UN is a