Let us start with what will be the st ordinary day for almost everyone on Earth.

  My father, as I mentioned, serves in the Space Force. He is what they call a pnk owner of a new css of ship, which has just finished its builder trials in orbit. It's all top secret, so everyone is assuming that it’s a new css of warship. As if all the fighting on Earth isn’t bad enough, humanity has exported warfare to space; fighting over the Moon, resources in the asteroid belt, and many other locations within our sor system.

  As you can imagine, he doesn't come home often; usually just twice a month for a day or two before heading back out again. Believe me, I get that what he does is important, yet my 17-year-old self couldn’t see past my wants. If I had, I would’ve seen the stress and worry that he did his best to hide from us.

  Normally, we have family calls with him a couple of times a week, but the st couple of weeks he’s not been picking up or even returning Mom’s calls, which is like, highly unusual. Mom told us not to worry, he’s probably just too busy and left it at that, but I could see the shadow behind her eyes.

  Saturday evening, I was in my room getting ready to sneak out so I could hang with my friends for the night when Dad came home. Usually, he tells us kids hello, and then Mom and he head off for some alone time.

  Today is not the usual since the moment I hear the door close, he tersely calls for us to come downstairs. I know my dad well, and I know his tone of voice. Right now, he’s worried, impatient, and a hint of fear mixed in for good measure. I quickly gather my sisters and usher them downstairs to the kitchen where our parents are.

  He doesn’t say hello, and quietly commands us to, “Sit,” in a tone that brooks no argument.

  With a heavy sigh, he runs his hand over his short hair before unlocking his briefcase and the hinges creak slightly when he opens it. He pulls out a few folders and ys them on the table in front of us. My heart races and my palms grow slick with sweat at the sight of the bold, red font embzoned on the front covers: ‘Cssified’, ‘Top Secret: Omicron III SCI’, ‘Eyes Only, ‘No Foreign Dissemination.’

  My father, usually calm and stoic, looks visibly worried and anxious. This only serves to heighten my anxiety, knowing that something truly serious must be contained within those folders. I knew, I just knew, life as we know it was over, said, and done with. I had no specific reason or evidence to think so right at that moment, it’s simply something I knew to be true.

  As he settles into his seat, my father pushes one of the folders towards me. I give him a questioning look and he nods, urging me to open it. The twins lean in eagerly on either side of me as I flip through the pages and quickly scan the information. A cold chill runs down my spine as I read the two most arming phrases: ‘End of Humanity’ and ‘100% mortality rate.’

  I quietly pce the ominous folder back down on the table, its contents still swirling like a deadly storm. My usually boisterous sisters are suddenly silenced, their faces drained of color and their bodies rigid with fear. I take a deep breath, trying to calm the pounding of my heart and the racing of my thoughts. “What the hell is going on?” I ask, my voice trembling.

  Dad’s gaze shifts from each of us, his eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and grim determination. “Harbingers of the End have unleashed an airborne biological agent,” he says gravely. “It will kill every single person on Earth within a month.”

  A wave of terror crashes over me as I imagine everyone I know - my family, my friends, my girlfriend Erin - all dead in a matter of weeks. A moment ter, I realize, that includes me too. Why? Why would anyone want to wipe out all of humanity? It makes no sense.

  My twin sisters’ cling to me, sobbing uncontrolbly. Mom rushes to comfort them and I reach out to take one of them in my arms, holding her tight as if that could somehow protect her from the impending catastrophe. They're only thirteen years old! We’re just kids. We haven’t even begun our lives, and now we’re all sted to die because some deranged group has decided to py God with the fate of humanity?! What the actual fuck!

  As I cradle Kathy against my chest, I turn to face my dad, desperation and anger burning in my eyes. Surprisingly, even as emotional as I am, my voice is calm and steady as I ask, “So that’s it? Humanity is doomed?”

  He slowly nods, acknowledging the truth. His tone is quiet, yet tense as he states, “Everyone who isn’t in a hermetically sealed shelter or on a ship will die. They do not doubt the outcome. Hopefully, those that are in the shelters will have enough supplies to st until they can find a cure and immunize everyone against it.”

  He reaches out, opens another folder and flips to a page to show a copy of their orders, and continues, “To sum up our orders, Captain Dayton and I have been ordered to make way to Kepler 22. Supposedly, scientists have confirmed that there’s a habitable pnet in the system. That’s what our ships were designed and built for in the first pce.”

  Using his finger, points to all of us. “We have a pce on my ship. The Space Force allowed the media to specute about the new ships, but they aren’t dreadnoughts like they think. These are colony ships outfitted with a massive amount of supplies and cryogenic pods. As we speak, the Avalon and Discovery are making preparations to leave orbit. We can all get on it, and we can survive.”

  Of course, I stupidly ask, “What about everyone else?”

  He shrugs. “There’s not enough room for everyone. Look, even if there were enough ships to save everyone, there simply isn’t enough time. We’ve already been tested and cleared. No one with any medical conditions is allowed to go. Even those with genetic predispositions are not being selected.” He pauses and gazes intently at me. “Son, you have no idea how lucky we are. Whole families are being denied a pce simply because one member has a bad gene or a medical condition.

  “The ships can hold 500 people each. That’s it. Almost everyone else will be dead in a few weeks, and no amount of hand-wringing or wishing is going to change that fact. It’s up to us to carry on and give humanity a chance to survive.” He pauses and looks around the table as if to challenge us to gainsay him. Needless to say, no one does. “Good. You have a half-hour to collect a few momentos. We’re allowed a maximum of 20 lbs each, so choose wisely. Don’t worry about any clothing, the ships have what we’ll need or they can make it in short order.” He pauses again, and this time, he focuses on me. Then in his command voice, ftly states, “Avery, you are not to tell anyone about this, understood?”

  I merely nod, get up, gather my sisters, and head upstairs to pack.

  ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇

  The Space Force base is in the middle of nowhere. If people thought Area 51 had tight security, they should’ve checked this pce out. We had to check through 5 security points before we even got close to the base. We’re again checked at the gate, made to get out of the vehicle, the vehicle is searched and us are searched and then checked against the computer. Finally, we’re allowed through. Even so, it’s another 20-minute drive to arrive at the main base. Dad pulls into a parking lot in front of a huge building. Each of us grabs our single bag containing the few things we brought with us and gets out to follow him. At the door, several rather burly armed guards are waiting.

  As we approach, one of them unceremoniously demands, “ID,” as the rest of them hold their weapons at the ready. Thankfully, they’re not pointing them at us as that would likely upset the twins even more than they already are.

  Dad produces his, which is slid into a computer. A few seconds ter, the guard hands it back and then scans each of our faces, and when the computer beeps, he says, “All of you are cleared to enter. Sir, you’re scheduled to leave from gate 1. Good luck, Sir.” He brings his hand up in a salute.

  Dad returns his salute as he says, “Thank you, Sergeant.”

  We follow Dad into the building to see a huge crowd of people sitting or standing around in cordoned-off areas of the building. Children are running around pying as they wait for their turns to board a pne. I’m guessing that they have no idea what is happening. For a moment, I almost wish that I could be them and be unaware of what’s happening. The twins take seats on my left with Mom on the other side of them, and Dad sits on my right. No sooner do we sit down than a major rushes over, speaks quietly with Dad for a moment, and Dad says, “I’ll be back soon. Watch out for your Mom and sisters.” When I nod that I will, he heads off with the major.

  Soon, a girl sits down next to me and looks around. I have to admit she’s dressed well, which only serves to emphasize her assets. Long brown hair, blue eyes that seem to take in everything around her, long, shapely legs, a modest bust, but it’s her face that will take your breath away. In one word, she’s beautiful. When she sees me looking at her, she nods to acknowledge me with a small wave.

  My phone starts to buzz. I had forgotten it was in my pocket. I pull it out and see that it’s one of my friends who I was supposed to meet tonight. I look at it for a few seconds, trying to decide whether or not to answer. Finally, I power off my phone and put it back into my pocket. I don’t see the point in talking to them. I mean, seriously, what am I supposed to say? ‘Sorry. I can’t be there tonight. I’m on my way to Dad’s ship because we’re leaving the sor system and by the way, you’re gonna be dead soon.’ Yeah, not that’s not happening. If people knew what was going on, there would be a wholesale panic.

  The girl sitting next to me surprises me when she asks, “You’re ignoring everyone, too?”

  I merely nod in answer since I doubt I could have gotten anything out because of the lump in my throat. I feel bad for doing it, and I wish that I could tell them, but what good would that do? Ignorance is bliss in this situation. They are much better off thinking that everything is okay and being happy until the news finally breaks.

  “I’ve been ignoring my friends and family for a few hours. My cousin has been calling repeatedly, and I just can’t face talking to her. Mom says that she can’t come with us because she has diabetes.” She gnces at her parents to see if they’re listening, then leans close and whispers, “But I think it’s because my dad doesn’t like her parents.”

  I snort and smile at her statement, but don’t say anything.

  “I’m Athena Mayes.” I quirk an eyebrow over her name. “Yeah, I know, odd name, but my mom’s a bit odd, so what can you do?” She grins and waits for my reply.

  “Avery Marks. Pleased to meet you.”

  Her eyes widen, as does her smile. “As in, like, Captain Marks?”

  “Yeah, he’s my dad,” I reply.

  Her hair dances as she giggles, and all I can think is ‘Good Lord, she is so damn cute!’

  Her cheeks dimple as she grins at me. “Who woulda thunk it? Your dad’s my mother’s C.O. She’s our pilot for the Avalon,” she says, gesturing with her thumb to her mother.

  Dad finally finishes whatever he has to do and walks back over to us, then sits down next to me.

  Dad grins and lightly elbows me, “I see you’re picking out your future wife early. Smart move.”

  I look at him with a what the fuck expression. At least, I do until I hear Athena giggling at his statement. I turn to her with my face fming and an I’m so sorry expression.

  She giggles again and pats my thigh. “It’s alright, Avery. I get it. It’s going to be our responsibility to repopute in the future, you know?”

  I blush a bit as it hits me. After our long sleep, the two of us, along with everyone else will have to make babies. Lots of them. As much as I’ve always wanted to have sex, the thought makes me somewhat uncomfortable. I’m only 17, and you want me to be a father?

  Dad notices my discomfort and rubs my shoulder as he states, “Rex, Son. Babies won’t be happening for at least a few years after we wake up. We have to establish the colony before we can even think about bringing children into the world.”

  ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇

  A half-hour ter, an Airman announces that it’s time for us to begin boarding. Standing up along with everyone else, we grab our bags and file through the door out onto the tarmac. There are easily a hundred heavily armed men lining the way to the ship and probably another hundred or so guarding it. Athena walks beside me to the pne and we quietly chat as we walk. As we enter it, Dad turns to into the cockpit while we go to find seats. Happily, Athen elects to take a seat beside me.

  “This is my first time going into space,” Athena says, trying to dispel the heavy atmosphere in the cabin while I stare out the window wondering what Earth will be like in a few months.

  I snort, and reply, “It’s just about all of our first time.”

  Will they be able to find a vaccine for the agent the Harbingers of the End created? Or will all human life on Earth simply cease to exist sometime soon? Will we ever come back to find out? I hope so, but even if we do, we’re talking about hundreds of years into the future.

  Closing my eyes, I silently pray for the ones we are leaving behind.

  Soon enough, we begin taxiing, and then after lining up, we soon race down the runway, Athena grabs my hand in a death grip as we do. The pne roars off into the night sky, and 15 minutes ter, we leave the atmosphere and level off. Athena rexes her grip on my hand, though she continues to hold it as the g-force returns to normal.

  She takes a few deep breaths, and then looks at me. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

  I snort and roll my eyes, and both of us ugh.