The Hurricane

by Hugh Howey

  They stopped the car, and Daniel’s dad let Daniel make the first cuts. The trunks of the trees were held off the ground by their limbs, which made cutting all the way through them easy. Daniel had less fear of the tool this second time. He pushed the blade deep against the trunk, letting the spiked collar on the chainsaw hold fast, giving him something to pivot against. He let the chain do the work and stood back as the two halves parted. Another smooth cut through the tree, and two through the other one, and Daniel shut the chainsaw down. He handed it and the plastic goggles back to his father.

  “Nice work, Son,” his dad said. He slapped him on the back. The newness of that trite and clichéd moment—learning a skill from his father and putting it on display—made Daniel feel slightly dizzy and more than a little resentful. He found himself smiling, against his will, and saw that Anna was smiling back at him.

  The four of them dragged the two trees out of the road, the limbs sweeping the gravel behind them. Back in the Bronco, they trundled along, heading for a house partially visible at the end of the long and wood-lined alley.

  “Good golly,” Edward said, as they exited into a clearing at the end of the drive.

  “Holy shit,” Daniel’s father said.

  Daniel leaned his head out the window to see. The Bronco came to a crunching stop, the brakes squealing. He followed his father’s pointing arm to see his mom’s Taurus parked in what must’ve once been a shady spot. The tree that had formerly created said shade was lying on top of the Taurus, the vehicle now flat from hood to trunk.

  “Holy shit,” Daniel whispered.

  He felt Anna leaning across him, her hand on his shoulder, straining to see. Daniel would’ve delayed the moment had he been thinking clearly. Instead, he opened the door and stepped out, allowing Anna to spill out behind him.

  “Mom’s gonna flip,” he said. He walked out toward the car, then turned as a screen door slammed by the house.

  “Daniel?”

  His brother stomped down the wooden steps leading up to the single-story house. He broke into a trot, hurrying his way, his face a mix of surprise, relief, and joy.

  “Oh my god,” he said, throwing his arms around a stunned Daniel, who just stood there. “My little brother,” he said, his hand on the back of Daniel’s head, his other hand slapping his back.

  “You okay?” Daniel asked. His brother let him go, and Daniel saw a young-looking girl standing on the back deck of the house, a hand on her hip and another shielding her eyes.

  “We were gonna set out in the morning on foot if nobody came by,” Hunter said. He turned to the Bronco and waved at Anna. Edward was walking around the car, his hand brushing along the hood. The passenger door clicked open—

  “No fucking way,” Hunter said.

  He took a step back toward the crushed Taurus, shaking his head.

  “No way.”

  “He’s only staying for a little—” Daniel started.

  “Hello, Son,” their father said. He took a step toward Hunter, who took another step back. Daniel watched Anna’s eyes dart between the two of them, a frown on her face. Suddenly, Daniel felt the embarrassment of his family’s dysfunctional nature. He wanted everything to be okay, and fast, even if just for appearances.

  “What are you doing here?” Hunter asked.

  “Hunter, this is Anna.” Daniel waved her direction. “That’s her father, Edward. They were kind enough to bring us over.”

  Hunter waved him off. His eyes hadn’t left their father, who at last remained still, a dozen paces from the two of them.

  “Do you want to introduce us?” Daniel pointed toward the house.

  “That’s Chen,” he said, his eyes not wavering. “Chen, this is my little brother Daniel and my asshole of a father that I’ve told you about.”

  Chen waved tentatively.

  “Is it just you two?” Edward asked. He walked toward the Taurus, scratching his beard.

  Hunter nodded. As Daniel had suspected, his brother had lied about Chen’s parents being home.

  “Maybe we can have a moment alone?” their father asked. He pointed down the driveway.

  Hunter grunted. He looked around to Chen, who was hugging herself on the back porch and biting her lip. He looked back to his father and nodded. “After you,” he said, waving him down the driveway. He refused to budge until their father had already started shuffling away.

  “Chen, why don’t you see if they need anything to drink?” Hunter called over his shoulder.

  Daniel’s eyes hardly left his brother during the several exchanges. Somehow, Hunter seemed so much older than Daniel thought of him being. He seemed like their father’s peer, the kind of man that played host to other people and owned a house and had a wife and that sort of thing. As his father and older brother walked away, back down the narrow and heavily wooded driveway, Daniel felt Anna tugging him toward the house. He let out his held breath, managed to suck a deep new lungful, and reluctantly followed her.

  ••••

  “Hunter talks about you a lot,” Chen said. She poured water from a gallon jug like the kind you buy at the grocery store for a buck. She handed Daniel the cup.Anna cradled hers, and Chen began filling another for Edward, who told her to pour half as much for him.

  “What does he say?” Daniel laughed and heard the nerves in his voice. Everyone had become uncomfortably quiet after the scene outside.

  “Mostly good stuff.” Chen smiled, her dark eyes shining. She turned and slid some papers off the kitchen counter. “We managed to get into the glove box through the broken window. Hunter was dying to know if the insurance was up to date.” She handed a card to Daniel. Anna finished taking a sip of her water and leaned over to look. “He said he couldn’t rest until he knew. Our phone’s been dead, and the driveway was blocked even if the car’d been okay. You should’ve heard it when it hit.” Chen shook her head. Her hand was trembling as she poured herself a cup of water.

  “It’s just good nobody was hurt,” Edward said. He looked around the kitchen and out the back door. The tall grasses of marshland could be seen beyond, an old wooden dock slicing out over them. “No major damage to the house?”

  “No.” Chen took a sip of water. “We were real lucky. My parents, though, were in Columbia, so they have to be worried sick. Do any of your phones work?”

  They all shook their heads.

  “Columbia got hit pretty hard, too,” Daniel said. “Lots of tornados spun off, according to the radio.”

  Chen laughed. “The only radio we had was the car’s. We actually managed to squeeze in and turn it on, but the battery didn’t last and the antenna must’ve been messed up. We heard mostly static.”

  “You’ve had plenty of food and water?” Daniel asked.

  Chen nodded. “We’ve been heating stuff up on the grill outside. The cover got sucked off it, but everything else is fine. We were actually going to try and walk to your house today, or at least until someone gave us a ride, but decided to wait one more day to see if the phones came back.”

  “The phones are going to be out for a while,” Edward said. “But we’ll give you a ride out of here. Why don’t you gather some things together and maybe write a note to your parents just in case.”

  “Yeah,” Chen said. “Okay.” She smiled at them and headed down a hallway off the kitchen. “You guys just make yourselves at home,” she called out. “I’ll just grab a few things and be right back.”

  ••••

  Daniel peered out the living room window at the demolished Taurus, past the Bronco, and down the shaded driveway. He thought he saw movement out there, but couldn’t be sure. He was glad the conversation was taking place somewhere private, but he was dying to know what was being said.

  “You okay?” Anna asked. She walked out to join him by the window.

  Daniel turned and smiled. “I’m fine. Sorry to drag you guys into my family crap.”

  “Are you kidding?” Anna stepped beside him and peered out at what was left
of the Taurus. “Somebody needed to come out here. That would’ve been a long walk back to your house.”

  Daniel watched her lean forward, cup her hands around her face, and press the sides of her palms against the window to peer out. The back of her neck, the faint whiff of her presence, so much about this girl he had spent all of a few hours around seemed so intimately familiar. He wondered if he was going crazy, if he was insanely desperate to be with someone, if the storm had triggered some sort of apocalyptic, end-of-the-world, one-last-time, one-first-time, procreation urge. Wasn’t any of that infinitely more likely than love at first sight? Did people even believe in that bullshit anymore?

  “Whatcha thinking?” Anna asked.

  Daniel’s brain whizzed back to reality from wherever it had gone. He saw that Anna was looking at him, and that he had been staring at her. He was pretty sure he looked like a creeper in that moment, the sort of blank stare from hyper-concentration (or complete lack thereof) that made him vastly unpopular.

  “Nothing,” he lied, looking away. “I just spaced out there for a second. Tired, I guess.”

  Chen paced though the kitchen and joined them in the living room. “I’m almost ready,” she said. She set a black suitcase down by the door. “Just need to write a note and grab some food that might spoil.”

  “I’ll help with the food,” Anna said. She reached over and squeezed Daniel’s hand for the barest of moments, then turned and followed Chen to the kitchen. Daniel’s hand leapt up in some delayed response. He looked at his palm and wondered what had just happened.

  Had it happened? What did it mean? Just a friendly gesture, right? Commiserating with his family stuff. Understanding him, what with her parents living apart. Or had he found someone as crazy as himself living just four houses down?

  Outside, Edward walked by, having circled the house. He seemed to be surveying the roof and the siding for damage. Beyond him, Daniel could see his brother marching up the driveway, his arms stiff, unswinging and powerful before him, hands balled into fists. He wore an adult scowl and moved with purpose. Daniel grabbed the black suitcase, pushed the screen door open, and hurried toward the Bronco.

  “Chen’s inside?” Hunter asked, meeting Daniel by the Bronco.

  “Yeah. She’s rounding up some food, I think.”

  Hunter pointed to the suitcase, which Daniel loaded into the rear bed of the Bronco. “That hers?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So I guess we’re going with you guys?”

  Daniel turned and nodded toward the Taurus. “Were you gonna stay here? She said you guys were gonna start walking tomorrow anyway.”

  Hunter shook his head. He ran his hand up over his forehead and through his hair. “Why’d you bring him here?” he asked. “Why would Mom let him stay?”

  “He traded his boat for a chainsaw,” Daniel said, wishing he could make his brother understand—even though he knew it was all a lot more complicated than it seemed in his head. “Did he tell you he quit drinking?”

  “Yeah,” Hunter said. “He also told me that seven years ago and a hundred times since.”

  “I think he’s changed,” Daniel said.

  A brief flash of rage spun across Hunter’s face before he managed to look away.

  “You always think he’s changed,” he said.

  Daniel wanted to plead more, not for a strong belief in his father, which he didn’t feel, but to soothe his brother. He wanted to keep lying to make things better, but he knew it would make them worse.

  Hunter laughed. “He really sleeping in the toolshed?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Daniel said. “I thought Mom was joking, but she lets the chainsaw stay in the house while he sleeps in the shed.”

  “That’s pretty funny.” Hunter turned and smiled at Daniel. “Damn, dude, I’m glad you’re okay. How’s Zola?”

  “She’s fine. Her thumbs don’t know what to do with the cell towers out. She misses her friends, and a tree went through her bed and ruined a ton of her shit, but she seems to actually be fine.”

  “This is pretty fucked up,” Hunter said, looking around at all the trees and scattered branches. Daniel noticed not a piece of the debris had been moved. There were no piles of branches like around his neighborhood. He imagined Hunter and Chen had been rolling around in bed doing whatever couples did while he’d been working his ass off and worried about them.

  “We should totally be in school right now,” Daniel said.

  They turned to the sound of the screen door snapping shut. Chen and Anna came out, plastic grocery bags in either hand. Edward headed toward the Bronco from the far corner of the house.

  “You got all your things?” Daniel asked his brother.

  He patted his pockets. “Heh. I just checked to see if I had the keys to the car. Yeah, I’ve got my wallet and phone.”

  “I packed your other clothes in the suitcase,” Chen said. Daniel took bags of food and a gallon of water from her and put them in the back of the Bronco. Anna unloaded her arms as well, then began rearranging the stuff in the back, pressing it all to the sides, leaving room in the middle.

  “I guess we’ll be sitting back here,” she said, referring to the cargo compartment behind the rear seat.

  Daniel nodded. He watched his father make his sullen way up the drive, hands in his pockets, chin down, feet dragging. He looked like a whipped dog, and Daniel no longer wanted to know what had been said between them. He didn’t want to feel any sorrier for his dad than he already did.

  As Hunter and Chen got in the back seat and his father and Edward slid in up front, Daniel felt overwhelmed with how right the pairing felt. The presence of another couple seemed to solidify something between him and Anna—some vicarious romantic energy. We are what they are. He and Anna crawled in the back amid the bags of food and the suitcase. Daniel grabbed the top edge of the hinged rear door, its window down, and swung it shut. It banged and latched with the raw metal sound of an older car, and they were off, crunching the gravel driveway, turning their back on the empty house and ruined family car, working their way down the narrow alley of wounded and broken trees, the glare of the sun dimming as they passed through the mottled shade, then out to the unbroken shine and steady thrum of civilized pavement beyond.

  23

  The world went by in reverse. Daniel and Anna watched the past from the back of the Bronco, the road sliding off into the distance as they leaned against the back of the seat and peered out the rear window. A tree that they had cut and hauled out of the way just hours before popped into view and then slid away from them. The plastic grocery bags rustled in the breeze. Bits of conversation from the two men in the front drifted back, but in an indistinguishable slur. The deep silence from Hunter and Chen was much nearer.

  Daniel felt his body unwind from the several days of tension. He relaxed against the seat behind him and felt the raw terror of his life—not the storm aftermath, but of his normal life—slide out his pores. He felt happy and calm in a way he couldn’t remember since childhood. Maybe it was knowing his brother was okay, that his entire family was okay. Perhaps it was the chilly breeze passing through the car, cooling the sweat on the back of his neck, making his hair dance on his scalp. Maybe it was the thrill of being one of the only vehicles in sight, or the view of all the destruction sliding over the horizon, reminding him how awesome it was to be alive. He soaked in the unusual state of bliss. He felt his shoulder bump up against Anna’s as the Bronco lurched to the side. He felt Anna press herself closer, so that the contact between them remained long after the limb Edward had dodged disappeared into the past.

  Maybe it was all the emotional outpouring of the last few days, the thrill of the unknowable future rushing at him blindly from behind, not knowing when he’d go to school again, not knowing when he’d watch TV again, not knowing when his cell phone would come back to life and continue its unringing mocking. It could have been any or all of these things that caused him to do the unthinkable, the laughable, the it-only-ha
ppens-in-the-movies:

  He reached over and grabbed Anna’s hand.

  It was so easy. It was like he couldn’t not do it. He felt her warm and soft palm against his own, felt her small and dexterous fingers curl around his, accepting. He rubbed his thumb up and down the back of her fingers, marveling at how simple and correct the harmless act felt. Some kind of raw power surged through him, a joy that threatened to burst out through his chest if his heart couldn’t contain it. Then Anna tilted her head to the side and rested it on Daniel’s shoulder, and she made the unimprovable better.

  The world slid into the past. The future came at them blindly. With the wind drowning out the sound of the blinker, the stops and turns took them by surprise, causing them to stiffen and brace for what came next. But they remained like that, leaning on one another, hands caressing hands, fingers learning how they interlocked, and Daniel realized that if it was happening so fast, it wasn’t because of anything apocalyptic. He realized that Anna had been waiting just as long for him as he had been for her.

  24

  As they rode slowly through town, Daniel was glad for the extended tour and the leisurely pace. He could’ve ridden in that Bronco forever.

  They passed a gas station with a line of vehicles all trying to get to a single pump. The rattle of a portable generator and the sight of a man in coveralls working the nozzle gave them a bit of hope that civilization could reopen for business, albeit slowly and at a trickle.

  Two police cars sat outside the Save-Mart, their blue lights flashing in circles. There was yellow tape over the front glass, which was patched with full sheets of plywood.

  “Storm damage or looting?” Daniel asked.

  Anna let go of his hand to grab the edge of the rear window and peer out. “I hope storm damage,” she said, but not too convincingly.

  Daniel rubbed his hands together. He felt the residual heat from her skin touching his. He glanced at Anna’s hand and had the powerful surety that he could grab it again if he wanted. It was a new power, like waking up one morning to discover you could fly. He could touch someone in a loving way and have them not flinch, or think him a creep. They would even reciprocate.