End Times by Anna Schumacher Page A

loggers.
    “Mmmm . . . fluffy blueberry pancakes, golden waffles with butter and strawberries and whipped cream, sausage links, cottage cheese and cantaloupe,” Luna read off the menu. “I just might get one of everything.”
    “Yeah, well, try and control yourself,” Owen said. “I’ve only got fifty bucks to last me till the next race, and we need thirty for gas.”
    “You worry too much,” Luna said as the waitress came by, pulling a pencil from a bun as frizzy as cotton candy. Luna waited until Owen had ordered his omelet, then asked for the Lumberjack Special with extra bacon, waffles, and hash browns, plus an extra-large orange juice and a side of fresh fruit. Owen found himself scanning the menu while she talked, trying to add up all of her extras. He realized with an unpleasant shiver that she’d just totaled close to eighteen dollars in food.
    “You know we’re not going to have enough leftover for gas,” he hissed when the waitress was out of earshot.
    Luna grinned. “I told you, don’t worry. I got this covered.”
    “How?” Owen asked. Luna had told him that she’d worked for Ariel Crow in exchange for festival tickets and food.
    “I have my ways.”
    The waitress set down two mugs of coffee, and Luna busied herself pouring packet after packet of sugar into hers, leaving a pile of empty white wrappers on the table.
    Owen took a quick sip, grimacing at the scalding heat on his tongue. It was strong and bitter, the way he liked it, and it helped clear his head. With the final cold fingers of his dream retreating and a new day shining bright and clear ahead of them, he was ready to stop letting Luna lead him around like a puppy on a leash, evading his questions whenever it felt like he was starting to learn something about his past. He was ready to get some answers.
    “Do you remember Murdock?” he asked casually, propping his chin in his palm. He was taking a chance, he knew—it was a name he’d only read online, that the race organizer back in Olympia had mentioned in passing.
    “Who?” Luna stopped mid-stir.
    “You know, the leader,” Owen pressed. “Of the Children of the Earth.”
    “Oh—you mean Galen. Murdock was his last name, but none of us called him that. We didn’t believe in last names. The only reason I know his was that it was in the papers later. My mom saved the clippings.”
    “In the papers?” Owen asked. “For what?”
    Luna shrugged, sending the thin strap of her tank dress slipping down one shoulder. “A couple of people who never should have been there in the first place filed a lawsuit, and he went to jail. I think the government was just trying to silence him, though. They couldn’t stand how he always spoke the truth.”
    “What truth?” He was getting closer. He could feel it.
    “That we’re raping the earth. That our endless quest for possessions and enlightenment will bring about the end of the world—and when that day comes, the God of the Earth will summon us, and we’ll all come together to rule a beautiful new world.”
    “What do you mean, us ? Are there others?”
    But even as he said it, Owen knew. They were the shadowy figures dancing around the bonfire in his dreams, the faceless ciphers with the green eyes.
    “Thirteen of us.” Luna raised the mug to her mouth, and steam swirled dreamily around her face. “We were all conceived on the same night, in a magical ritual on the summer solstice under the full moon. We had a festival to celebrate it every year when I was growing up on the commune.”
    “All conceived on the same night? How?”
    Luna smiled mysteriously. “I don’t know all the details. Only that it marked us forever.”
    A sick feeling began to brew in Owen’s stomach. “Was everyone there?” he asked as the waitress staggered back to them under the weight of a tray piled high with food. “All the Children of the Earth? The night we were . . . conceived?”
    Luna licked her lips as the waitress set plate after