Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
And though you didn’t grant permission ahead of time, I hope you’ll extend forgiveness, and accept our deepest gratitude.
All our best,
E & T
thirty-six
Emily
Day Thirteen
I wiped the tears from my eyes as we drove away from the ranch where we’d spent three magical days, looking over my shoulder as the horses grew smaller and smaller.
“You okay?” Tuck asked, pulling me against him and kissing my temple.
I nodded, swallowing heavily. “I just worry about the horses.”
“They’ll be okay. The Garcias left them enough food for many months.”
Would that be enough though? The world was breaking down by the day. It’d taken us nearly two weeks—even with a number of rides clear across states—to make it from Illinois to New Mexico, but we’d left directly in the wake of the solar flare hitting. We’d had several days—at least—where much of the world was at a standstill as people just waited. We’d entered that pause—because of Tuck’s instincts to get on the road—and because of it, we had probably moved much more quickly than others who hadn’t.
And I was worried about the Garcias too. Perhaps it was irrational, but I’d come to think of them as extended family. I’d lived in their home. I’d passed by the family photos on the wall and seen the love reflected there. I’d practically sensed their panic as they realized the scope of the disaster and counted the hours that they didn’t hear from their only child, halfway across the country as society collapsed.
I had to try my best to push those imaginings aside though because they’d only end up breaking me. We’d heard story after story as we’d traveled, and everyone was panicking. So many were trying to get somewhere. People were doing everything possible to protect themselves and those they loved in any way they could. I turned toward Tuck, breathing him in and finding comfort in his scent and his solid strength beside me.
Even the back roads were more crowded now and it was slow going, even in a car. We passed several men siphoning fuel from the cars, watching us with narrowed eyes as we went by as though we might stop and challenge them. And that made sense being that we were in a vehicle that would only keep running if we had a continued supply of gasoline. Now that it had obviously occurred to more people that there was fuel available in the deserted cars, I wondered how long it would take until most of them were emptied out. I wondered how long it’d take before people were fighting over the last of it to keep their generators running, or whatever else they might have that used gas and was still working.
Tuck looked concerned too as we passed by a couple with a gas can and a hose, draining a Lexus SUV. “Things have progressed in the last few days,” I murmured.
“Or regressed.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t have holed up for that long,” I said. “But I can’t manage to regret it.”
“Me neither. I wish it could have been longer.”
It could be, I wanted to say. It could be forever. But I didn’t say that and neither did he. I hardly dared to dream that Tuck would stay with me, that he couldn’t bear parting. And right now, there were a thousand unknowns and too many maybes that were bigger than us. I’d seen the way his eyes had lit up when Hosea mentioned helping abandoned children and others who needed assistance. Would he be pulled back on the road once he’d helped me get to my parents? There were so many things he could do now, and I wondered if staying with me would be enough.
That old familiar longing rose inside me, bringing a rush of fear. I felt like, in some ways, I’d been here before. Only now, it was far more complicated, and the stakes were higher.
I hadn’t asked for promises and he hadn’t offered any. Perhaps now was not the time for such things anyway.
I leaned my head back on the seat and stared out the passenger side window, mountains and desert moving past as Tuck went around a truck in the road.
What I did have to hold on to was that the bitterness between us had fallen away completely. We’d made peace. We’d made much more than that, but it was the peace I was going to attempt to take with me, even if I had to leave the rest behind.
But I didn’t need to think of that. Not yet, and so I held out secret hope that we would find a way.
It took us a day and a half to make it to Arizona, only traveling by daylight. We stopped to siphon gas when we needed to with the gas can and hosing Tuck had taken from the Garcias’ garage and put in the trunk, along with food, that we were still rationing, and water. I’d lost a significant amount of weight in the past two weeks. I thought about how the old me would have considered that a positive, and I wanted to grimace. The old me. This journey had transformed me, and I hardly wanted to think about what the next few years would do. Of course, that would depend on many factors, none of which were certain at the moment. For now, the entire country was just trying to survive, including us.