Jeremy Chikalto and the Demon Trace (Book III of The Hazy Souls) by T.S. DeBrosse

“I
need to see what's going on outside, I'm getting claustrophobic in
here.”
    “There's a peep hole over there.” Tina
pulled a tablet out of her extravagant purse and flicked it on.
“But check this out.” The screen displayed a live feed from several
cameras outside the tank. The streets were swarming with people
carrying groceries. Fist fights were breaking out. The windows of
stores and cars were smashed, and smoke poured out from a few
overturned cars, strewn about Manhattan like children's toys. Other
cars, gorged with supplies, tried to make their way through the
crowds, but people were surrounding them and pounding on the
windows. Gunshots cracked in the distance. The massive tank rumbled
down the street, parting the seas.
    Frisky stared at the screen in disgust. "I
can't eat right now.” She handed her grapes to Maren.

Chapter 11
    The Hamptons
     
     
    Tina's place in the Hamptons had changed
since Jeremy and Maren were last there. A twenty-foot-high barbed
wire fence lined the perimeter of the four acre property, which had
expanded to include several nearby lots. The foundations of what
would be guard towers were in construction at regular intervals
abutting the fence. The front lawn was ripped up and workers were
busy laying down concrete. Much of the fancy landscaping was
replaced by tanks, helicopters, and a few handsome jets. Several
golf carts were lined up neatly next to Tina's house, a luxurious
Victorian which seemed out of place now. A bulldozer was pushing
debris which used to be a neighboring home. In a field to the west,
a crane was lowering steel beams into a pit dug in the ground.
    “We've sort of... acquired some things,”
said Tina.
    “Your father's a man of vision,” said
Jeremy, as they exited the tank down the ramp.
    Construction workers rushed past them,
carrying orange safety cones and shouting at another group of
newcomers. “Wet cement! Get off it!” Frisky jumped out of the way
as a group of workers came towards her shouldering large sheets of
plywood. “Tina, can you take us somewhere less hectic, please?”
    “Follow me,” she beckoned with a sexy
finger. She led the party through her family's home. People were
walking around the ground floor, and the place was full of Silicon
Valley types tapping away at laptops, talking with soldiers and
pilots. Tina's parents were standing at the redwood table in the
former dining room, pointing to maps and talking with soldiers.
Tina led them up the spiral staircase and into her princess
bedroom. Jeremy nodded at the oil painting of Michael Jackson on
the wall.
    “We have lots of tents, and they're building
bunkers too, but I insist you guys stay here.” She opened her eyes
wide and gasped. “Sleepover Part II!”
    “Tina, I appreciate your attempt at
establishing what I think is supposed to be a sense of normalcy,
but can you tone it down a bit?” Frisky swatted a fly from her
neck.
    “Ew, how'd that get in here. I know, let's
do makeovers!” They all laughed, but Tina was dead serious.
    “Frumpy Frisk needs a facial.”
     
    An hour later, a great bell rang throughout
the compound. Tina nearly poked Frisky's eye out with her eyeliner.
“Eek! Speech time!”
    Jeremy was admiring himself in a mirror,
pleased with his exposed midriff in Tina's lime green tank top. He
jumped when Maren shook his shoulders from behind.
    “The bell beckons,” she said.
    Tina drew back the curtains.
    The cement block just outside their window
was still partitioned off with safety cones, but a line of people
passed beside it on a black tarp that had been laid down to direct
foot traffic. They were walking towards a makeshift wooden pavilion
thirty yards away. “Must have let more people in from the outside.
Is there even room for them here?” asked Frisky.
    Tina shrugged. “Sure. Let's go.”
     
    Jeremy, Maren, Tina, and Frisky walked along
the tarp-path and took a seat on the ground that had been cleared
in front of the small wooden pavilion.