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)
“Yup. It’s a wave of energy that knocks out grids and other electronics. Musta been powerful as hell, because I’d never heard vehicles would be affected, but here we are.” He gave a small laugh and patted Bridget’s steering wheel affectionately. He looked over at Tuck. “The thing about warfare like that? It’s not bloody. No one has to look a person in the eye and pull a trigger or drop a bomb that means instant death. All you do is launch a missile from some ship out in the sea, straight up into the sky. There’s a certain distance from a crime like that, you know? Even though it’s one of mass extinction. Because the blast doesn’t hurt anyone, it’s too far away for that. It’s the aftermath that does the damage.”
“You think that’s what happened?” Tuck asked. “That’s your theory?”
“No idea. Like I said, I’m gonna wait this one out at the lake. Do some ice fishin’. See what’s what. If you’re smart, you’ll do the same.”
Tuck glanced back at me. “Our people are farther away than that,” he murmured.
Our people. Only what he really meant was my and Charlie’s people. Not that my parents didn’t care very much for Tuck; I knew my mom had written to him religiously even when he was locked up, though he rarely wrote her back. But old friends—even loyal ones—weren’t the same and it suddenly struck me what a kindness he was really doing. He was taking me and Charlie home, but where did that leave him? He had an uncle in LA, but he’d left his house and gone to my family for help when he really needed it. And should I even wonder about Tuck’s future plans anyway? He was doing me a kindness, but he’d also betrayed my trust, and put me at risk. And himself. And he was so damn reactive and…ornery. God, he spun my mind around and right now, there were too many other things spinning my mind as well.
“…you gotta do what you gotta do,” Leonard was saying when I tuned back in. “What I can tell you is all those minivan moms in their fancy electronic vehicles are shit out of luck.” Then he let out a guffaw.
The loud noise made me cringe, and a chill moved over my skin. I glanced at Charlie, but he rolled his eyes and brought his finger to his ear and made a gesture that clearly stated he thought Leonard was less than stable. I gave Charlie a weak smile and looked out the window.
Tuck and Leonard chatted as we drove past farms and exits for what looked like small towns. Several times, Leonard had to pull into a field or section of brush as abandoned cars blocked both lanes of the road we were traveling. And we also saw a few cars heading in the opposite direction, the drivers slowing and peering at us with wide eyes as they moved past.
It seemed obvious that they were out looking for answers, or maybe supplies, lucky like Leonard that they had never upgraded their old vehicle to something more modern with all the newfangled bells and whistles that had promptly gone kaput right when people really needed them.
God, I sounded like my mom. Those were words she would have used. And with the thought, a swell of grief expanded my lungs and made it difficult to breathe. Was she okay? Were she and my dad safe? Did they have enough food? Calm down, Em. They’re all the way in California. They’re fine. But they were probably worried sick about me. Distraught with no way to get answers because there was no power where I was.
I lay my head on Charlie’s shoulder, the rocking of the car lulling me into a fitful sleep where I dreamed of bomb blasts and seas of screaming people. I woke with a start and Tuck looked back at me, his brow dipping as he took me in. Next to me, Charlie let out a soft snore. Then Leonard said something, and Tuck turned around, focusing back on their conversation. I tuned it out as best I could. I was already deeply disturbed by the fallout of this power outage and knew that at least in two cases, it had resulted in death. The shoes currently on my feet were a continual reminder of that. I didn’t need to let my mind spin toward war and mass starvation.
From what I’d heard Leonard say to Tuck, a drive that should have taken three hours, had so far taken us closer to five because of the slow nature of having to weave through broken-down traffic that became heavy in some areas. But I was deeply grateful for the ride, and though the lack of working traffic lights all the way from Springfield, Illinois, to the middle of Missouri, told me that we hadn’t escaped the power outage, we were closer to home than we’d been.