Max checked his wrist watch. 2:47 PM. Eight and one half hours, or thereabouts, but who was counting.
“Max?”
“Hey, babe.”
“If you could have one last wish, what would it be?”
“Besides getting rid of Santa?—Giving you your sight back and making your heart like new.”
Monique shared a smile. “That was sweet, honey, but none of those are going to happen. Tell me something that’s…attainable.”
“Attainable? Hm…you go first.”
Monique sighed. “I would want to spend my last Christmas with the man I’ve loved since that first kiss in my parents’ back yard. But it’s not going to happen, is it, baby?”
Max could feel her trembling, but if she was crying she was holding it all inside. “Our last Christmas together. Yeah…” Silently he shook his head as the calculation he’d been thinking about since Monique had christened the Xmas Star Santa flew before his eyes. Christmas Eve—11:13pm. Lights out, Planet Earth. Technically, Max and Monique had already spent their last Christmas together—last year. And if the scientist prognosticators were correct, Max would never spend another Christmas Day with his dear wife of three years. Christmas Eve, yes but not Christmas. They would miss Christmas Day by forty-seven minutes.
Unless…
“I love you, Monique,” he said
“I love you more.”
He pulled her lips to his and held her like the world was coming to an end.
***
Max unlocked the SUV and set the small overnight case on the back seat. Inside, he’d stashed some bottled water, a few snacks Monique was fond of—Skittles, Oreo cookies, and a few apples. He would have preferred some pears and nectarines—she really loved the really sweet ones—but fresh fruit was at a premium when it could be found. They wouldn’t need any other luggage for the trip he had planned. Monique’s wish had started him thinking.
Max shut the door after ensuring he had enough gas for the four-hour drive. He did, but only if he drove prudently, not a lot of stops and no speeding. He silently prayed the highways would be free of traffic jams. If the vacant streets around the hospice were any indication, he would have free sailing. It was like the city was abandoned, or else everyone was holed up inside somewhere—praying and waiting for the end to come.
A man pushing a half-full grocery cart shuffled by the parking lot entrance. He was dressed in tattered clothing and short sleeves. Max saw how he shivered in the humid-less forty degree afternoon air. A small, anemic, artificial Christmas tree decorated his cart. Probably collected from someone’s trash.
The homeless man spied Max and called, “Repent your sins, young hooligan, the Xmas Star has no mercy on sinners.”
Max simply nodded, bothered by the man’s short sleeves. He watched the cart roll past. Momentarily he turned away, then stopped. “Damn,” he muttered. He had that extra coat Monique had given him a couple years ago for a birthday. Shit, he wouldn’t be needing it now. “Hey, guy,” Max called out, pulling the coat from the back of the SUV. ‘Take this, you won’t be so cold.”
The man’s face broke into a crooked grin. “Bless you, sir, and merry Christmas.”
“Yeah,” Max replied. “Stay warm.”
Up and down the street, he spotted a couple of stray dogs but no other residents. He checked the time—3:31. Max better get moving if he wanted to make it on time. No telling what kind of delays he might encounter on the trip east. He would either make it, or not. At least he’d tried.
He found Cheryl at a vacated nursing station. “Does the hospice have any portable ivac monitors?” he asked.
She gave him a puzzled look. “No, only the kind your wife requires. Why would you ask? You understand she cannot be removed form that ivac, otherwise she won’t receive the antiarrhythnic drug.”
Max was aware of this and the answer was not unexpected. “Say we lost all electricity, how long would the medicine stay in her system.”
Cheryl studied Max. “What do you have planned, sir?”
“I’m taking Monique out of here.”
Expecting an argument, Max was relieved when Cheryl sighed and nodded in understanding. “Guess it makes no difference. Where you planning on going?”
“East, to Arizona.”
Cheryl stared down the hall to his wife’s room. “Monique know?”
“Not yet.”
Another slow nod. “Six hours tops,” the nurse replied. “At around three hours she’ll begin to notice some skipped beats, palpitations, then her blood pressure will start to drop. At five hours, she’ll complain of lightheadedness and possibly some chest pain. Could even lose consciousness. By the sixth hour, her heart will go into ventricular tachycardia, then v. fib, and she’ll die soon thereafter.”
Max repeated to himself the pertinent facts. If he timed everything just right, Monique would spend Christmas with him, if only briefly before the Xmas Star’s apocalyptic devastation.
“Why Arizona?” the nurse was asking.
Max shrugged. “Something my wife wished for?”
“Die in Arizona?” she asked, plainly confused.
“No,” Max said. “She wanted to spend our last Christmas together.”
Still not getting it, the old nurse wondered aloud, “Traveling won’t make any difference, young man. Our world ends at 11:13 this evening. Where in Arizona, if I may inquire?”
“Quartzsite,” Max said. “My wife and I will spend Christmas near Quartzsite.”
***
“Quartzsite?” Monique asked.
Max sat on the bed holding his wife’s hands. He wondered if she’d been crying while he’d been out because her eyes were red. “Yes, Quartzsite, baby,” he said. “You in any pain?”
She smiled. “I feel fine now that you’re with me. Damn, Max, I hate being away from you.”
Max leaned closer and kissed her. “I won’t leave you again, I promise.” He had already decided he would leave it up to Monique if they would go. If she chose to remain at the hospice, he would abide by her decision. After all, it was her wish.
He heard her murmuring under her breath. “Quartszite, Quartzsite.” He could see the same puzzled expression on his wife’s face as the old nurse’s.
“But why Arizona, honey?” she asked.
“Because of your wish.”
“My wish was to spend our last Christmas together, baby. I already know that is impossi—” Suddenly her face broke into a slow grin of understanding. She reached up and embraced him. “You would do this for me?”
“I’d do anything for you, Monique. I just wish—”
“Shsh.” She found his mouth with her fingertips. “Let’s do it, baby. Our last adventure… Our last…Christmas.”
***
Together, Max and Monique planned the trip. Timing would be everything. If he removed his wife from the ivac monitor too soon then Monique’s heart would stop before they arrived in Arizona, yet if he delayed their trip too long, they would never reach their destination in time for Christmas. Max couldn’t believe the change in his wife’s demeanor. She was actually excited about something happening in her life, and Max couldn’t deny his eager anticipation as well. It was like a tiny bulb had flicked on in a totally dark stadium; a tiny light of hope that even in the path of this tsunami of devastation whizzing toward them, they could still exert a sliver of control. No longer would they be like the rest of the population—walking around in a perpetual state of shock, a zombie-trance in the face of dire hopelessness. True the dire hopelessness was inarguable—Santa was going to smack into Earth at 11:13 PM Pacific time. But if things went as planned, by then he and Monique would have reached Quartzsite, Az. Just in time for…
“It’s six, honey.”
Max watched his wife reading her Braille watch. “You sure about this?” he asked, approaching the ivac monitor.
“One-hundred-per-cent, baby. Let’s go find Christmas.”
Max hesitated only an instant b
efore yanking the monitor’s electrical cord. The machine’s faint din stopped. He looked at his wife.
Monique grinned. “God, I’m really unplugged.”
“Six hours, baby. That’s all we have.”
“Let’s do it.”
Max helped Monique stand. “How do you feel?”
“I’m strong, Max.”
“Let’s get rid of this then.” He removed the IV needle from her forearm. “Won’t be needing the tubing anymore.”
She grinned, albeit ruefully. “Guess not, Sweetie.”
Max turned to find Cheryl standing in the doorway.
The nurse stepped across the room holding a small tube of antibiotic ointment and a Band-aid. Quickly, she cleansed the IV site and applied the disinfectant and small dressing. “There, all set. Can’t have her getting an infection.” After a brief embrace, Cheryl wished both well. “Have a safe trip…and happy holidays.”
Max was relieved Monique could not see the tears in the older woman’s eyes. “You, too,” he said.
“Thank you, Cheryl,” Monique added as Max led her downstairs.
Once settled in the SUV, Max started the engine, checking the gas gauge. Over three-quarters full. Enough to get them the two-hundred-plus miles to the Arizona border. It better be, as he knew gas would be hard to come by in the stretch across the desert. No traffic jams, he silently prayed.
Monique touched his arm. “Max, I’m afraid.”
“So am I, babe, but we’re going to make it. We’re going to spend our last Christmas together.”
“Or bust,” she added, smiling bravely. “Max?”
He pulled out and took the quickest route to the 91East. “Yeah, baby.”
“You never told me your wish.”
Max accelerated through a red light. No traffic headlights in either direction. With only hours before the end of the world, he guessed people had better things to do than driving somewhere. He could feel his wife’s sightless eyes on him. “My wish?” he said.
“I want to know your last wish, Max.”
Max thought a moment. He reached for her hand. “I’ll tell you when we get to Quartzsite, dear.”
“I want to know. You will tell me?”
“When we reach Quartzsite. Promise.”
Once on the 91East, Max checked the time. Just after seven. According to his onboard GPS—at least a few of the satellites must still be working with Santa bearing down on the planet—the trip would take three hours and forty-two minutes. That is if everything went smoothly.
At the 90-60East interchange, he saw a line of vehicles and felt a sinking sensation in his chest. He slowed. Some had blinkers flicking but others sat dark in the early evening.
“Everything okay?” he heard Monique ask.
“Fine, babe. Just a little traffic.” The last twenty miles or so Max had seen a few abandoned cars on the shoulder, but nothing that would have given him the impression the end of the world was imminent. No pile-ups or crowds of looters or buildings burning. Fights in grocery lines, gang battles over dwindling food and supplies, those horrific uprisings with the National Guard troops, that was all in the recent past. It was almost too calm. Where the hell was everybody on this last Christmas Eve?
He glanced over at his wife. She was resting with her head back against the headrest. An hour had passed since unplugging the ivac. Though he knew it was only his imagination Max could almost feel her declining antiarrhythmic drug levels. He was tempted to ask about any chest pain or palpitations but decided against it. She appeared comfortable, which was all he could ask for.
He braked to a stop as he approached the line of cars winding around the interchange. Damn, he cursed silently. This they didn’t need.
“You’ve stopped.” Monique was sitting up and facing ahead.
“We’ll be moving again soon.” Max pulled toward the shoulder so he could get a better view ahead. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered.
“What, baby?”
“The car in front of me is abandoned.” He drove further along the shoulder. So was the next car and the next. “All the cars are abandoned.”
Monique cracked her window. “Listen, Max.”
Max could feel the crisp cool air blow in. “I don’t hear anything.”
“No, can’t you hear them?” She began to sing along. “Come they told me, Pa, rum, pa, pum, pum…”
Max strained but couldn’t hear the singing. He drove past more abandoned cars until he reached the 60 East. He rolled his window down further. “I’ll be…” he murmured.
“You can hear them, too.”
“You bet, baby. And see them.”
“Tell me.”
“Everyone’s left their cars and trucks,” Max began to describe the scene. Up on a hill a ways from the highway, he spotted two bright searchlights illuminating a small church. The steeple was white, and surrounding the building he could see large crowds of people. Even in the dark, he could tell many individuals were carrying candles and flashlights.
“And they’re singing Christmas carols,” Monique said.
“Yes,” Max said.
Monique faced the worshippers. “Is the church large?” she asked.
Max shook his head. “No, quite small actually.” He reached over and took his wife’s hand. If she preferred…”We can stop. Quartzsite is still about three hours.”
“I really wanted to spend our last Christmas together, but if you…” Monique’s voice trailed off.
Max drove slowly past the long line of abandoned vehicles. The church, searchlights, Christmas hymns—it was all so surreal. On the brink of mass destruction on Christmas Eve, the masses were singing.
Monique whispered, “Max, we’re still moving.”
The singing was behind them now. “Yes, baby.”
“I thought you wanted to stop.”
“No.” He felt Monique release his hand and find his shoulder.
“None of those people will see Christmas,” she said sadly.
“I know.” Not if the Xmas Star smacked into Earth at 11:13 PM as it was forecast to do, Max realized. Every worshipper surrounding that tiny church off the 60 interchange would miss Christmas by forty-seven minutes, obliterated by asteroid fire and brimstone.
“Thank you, dear,” he heard Monique murmur.
“It’s your wish,” he said, pulling her hand to his lips and kissing her palm.
“What about your wish, baby?”
“When we reach Quartzsite.”
Max accelerated, zipping down the 60East. The singing was no longer audible, only the lonely drone of the SUV engine. Once they hit the 10East, it would be a virtual straight shot to the Arizona border.
Driving east, Max couldn’t resist frequent looks at the horizon. Still dark, though he guessed in another hour or so it would begin to lighten. He’d read the scientists’ description of what the last hours would be like so many times he could virtually recite the sequence of events. The Xmas Star—Santa—would rise in the sky like a huge moon—appearing over a hundred times the lunar diameter. Already people on the other side of the world could see the huge celestial object zeroing in on the planet. As the Earth rotated, Santa would come into view one last time—then BAM! Every day for the last six months, the monster asteroid had been steadily growing in the night sky. First only appearing as an abnormally bright star, then the size of two stars, then a big planetary body, then moon-size. And tonight, the greatest show on Earth. Also, the last show on Earth!
Monique must have sensed his thoughts because she asked, “Do you see it?”
“No, baby. Still got a couple of hours.”
Monique lowered her window a moment. He watched her hold her hand outside.
“Still cold out.” She closed the window. “It will warm up soon.”
Max agreed tacitly. Just before Santa impacted the planet, the temperature would rise twenty or thirty degrees at least. “How do you feel?” he asked.
Monique leaned back agains
t the headrest. “They’re beginning,” she said.
Max looked over at her. Even in the dark interior he could pick out the face he loved. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He checked the time. It’d been three hours since her IV was removed. Her antiarrhythmics would be at half their therapeutic levels by now. “Any chest pain?”
“No, only the palpitations.” She lurched suddenly.
“Damn, Monique, what is it?”
“I think I went into a run of ventricular tach.”
Max started to brake.
“Don’t slow, Max. I’m okay now.”
He could see her monitoring her own pulse rate. He heard her sigh. “Monique?”
She groaned. “Oh, baby, my rhythm’s irregular. How far to the border?”
Max pressed the accelerator. “I’ll make it in ninety minutes.”
Faster he drove the SUV. Gas gauge—over half empty. They’d just have enough. All along the highway he spotted cars that had been left, especially nearer small towns. Many were in heaps where the road crews had piled them months ago when the great exodus had been taking place. People had panicked and Max had read about the terrible accidents. Fifty and sixty car pile-ups were commonplace. Now on this last night on Earth he had the highway to himself.
Through the night he cruised. The radio was only static so he shut it off. He could hear his wife’s steady respirations in the seat next to him.
10:35 PM. Monique had been quiet for the longest time. “Baby, you awake?”
She moved. When he reached for her, his fingers found her cheeks moist. She hadn’t been sleeping, but weeping. Hell, she’d kept her suffering to herself. “How long have you been having chest pains?” he asked.
She just shook her head. “Doesn’t matter, baby. I don’t think I’m going to make it. My heart’s all over the place.”
Max swallowed the lump in his throat. “Hang on, babe. You can do it. We won’t miss Christmas.”