by Lucin, David
“Good,” Gary said and opened the door. Sam, Jenn’s bag in hand, waited in the hall. She instinctively hid the gun behind her, but Sam saw it. He and Gary exchanged a knowing look. Then Gary took the bag and tucked the Glock and the carry holster safely inside.
“Ready to go?” Sam asked Jenn.
“Yep.”
Maria leafed through her cookbook at the kitchen table. Beside her, the oxygen compressor hummed away melodically. “Finished packing?”
“All done,” Jenn said.
Maria came over and wrapped Sam in a tight hug. Then she did the same to Jenn, who felt safe in Maria’s arms. She wanted to stay there, where no one could hurt or threaten her. Just another minute, she told herself. She could spare that much at least.
“Let’s give the car a once-over,” Gary said to Sam.
Jenn heard them head outside. Finally, she let go of Maria. Her eyes felt puffy.
“Be safe,” Maria said. “I want you home for dinner, okay?”
“Sure,” Jenn croaked.
“Promise me.” It wasn’t a question.
“I promise.”
As Jenn reached for the doorknob, Maria said, “I love you, sweetie.”
“I love you, too.” Jenn hadn’t said those words to Maria before, but they felt as natural as if she had spoken them to her mother.
The smoke greeted her when she stepped outside. Thicker than yesterday, it had turned the sky a muted gray, and the sun, low to the east, looked orange, not yellow.
Gary shut the hood of Sam’s Tesla. “Everything’s ready to go. Tires are in good shape, lights all work, fluids are all topped off. I’d say you’re ready.”
“Thanks,” Sam said. “Appreciate the second set of eyes.”
Gary gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder. Seeing them act like pals was still strange, but Jenn welcomed it. The EMP and the bombs had stripped away their petty differences, mostly about politics and the war, and given them a common cause.
After hugging and saying goodbye to Gary, Jenn took her place in the passenger seat. Behind the wheel, Sam pressed his thumb to the ignition. The car buzzed to life, and Sam input the address and adjusted the route on the dashboard’s touchscreen. Jenn leaned over and inspected the instrument panel. The charge was at twenty percent. Enough to drive to Payson, pack up Sam’s family, and return to Flagstaff. Barely.
The autodrive engaged, and the Tesla pulled away from the Ruiz house. In the side mirror, Jenn watched as Maria appeared in the doorway. Holding a cloth to her mouth, she waved with her free hand.
The enormity of what she and Sam were doing settled in Jenn’s stomach. They had to do it, but she didn’t expect it to be this hard. She worried about Maria in this smoke. Driving away felt like abandoning her. Her gut told her to hit the Tesla’s emergency stop, push open the door, and run to the Ruiz house. Sam could go alone.
She couldn’t do that to him, though, not after he stuck by her side through Minute Tire and the Go Market. Sam was family, now more than ever. So far, he’d pulled his weight in their relationship. It was time for Jenn to pull hers. But she also needed Sam, and Sam needed her. Of course they would do this together. After all, they were a team.
They’d be home tonight for dinner, she reminded herself. Two hours there, a couple of hours to pack up Sam’s family, and two hours back. It’d be like a road trip.
Easy.
* * *
Ponderosas lined either side of the two-lane highway. The only sound came from the buzz of the Tesla’s engine and the low hum of its tires on the asphalt. The clock read 8:36 a.m. They left a few minutes after 8:00 and should arrive at the cabin sometime between 10:00 and 10:30. Sam had decided to take the most direct route to Payson. It also happened to be the most discreet—no interstates and only two tiny towns, Strawberry and Pine, along the way. He said neither had more than one or two hundred people anymore; the depression and the war had nearly killed both.
Jenn fiddled with the FM radio, but like when Gary tried in his Kia, she found only static.
“Try the AM,” Sam said.
“Is there ever anything on AM?”
“Yeah, sometimes. Here.” Sam tapped the dashboard touchscreen and cycled through the AM frequencies.
Nothing.
Jenn scratched her neck. “Doesn’t sound—”
“—emergency broadcast,” a fuzzy male voice cut in.
Jenn held her breath. Sam’s outstretched finger hovered above the touchscreen.
“The United States has been attacked with nuclear weapons,” the voice continued. It sounded neutral and detached, as if it was reading the box score of a baseball game. “Communications have been severely disrupted, and the number of casualties and the extent of the damage are not yet known. Further information will be communicated as soon as it becomes available.”
“Sounds like a recording,” Sam said, but Jenn shushed him and slapped his hand away from the touchscreen.
“Remain calm and stay indoors. Leaving your homes could expose you to greater danger. Radioactive fallout, which follows a nuclear explosion, is many times more dangerous if you are directly exposed to it in the open. Roofs and walls offer substantial protection. Stay sheltered until the all-clear sign has been given. Fill all possible containers with fresh water, as the water supply in your area may not last. Do not use water for flushing toilets or bathing, only for drinking and cooking. Ration food supplies and consume all perishable items first. Tune into this wavelength for further updates.” The voice went quiet for a moment, then continued. “This is an emergency broadcast. The United States has been attacked with nuclear—”
Jenn switched off the volume. Her mouth had gone dry, so she took a small sip from her water bottle.
At the time, watching the mushroom clouds rise above the horizon seemed surreal. The smoke erased any doubt in her mind about Phoenix’s fate. Yesterday, she’d even accepted that her parents had died, that her home was destroyed, and that her life had changed forever. But hearing an announcement on the radio somehow made everything feel more real—more frightening.
Sam spoke first. “So is there fallout or not?”
Jenn wiped a drop of water from her lip. “I don’t have any scabs or burns or anything. I’m not sick. Neither are you. It’s been two days. Plus, Gary had his books out in the office and was taking notes. If he thinks they were air bursts or whatever and they don’t cause any fallout, I trust him.”
The Tesla slowed down and navigated into the oncoming lane to avoid an abandoned Honda. Both Jenn and Sam sat up straight, eying the road and watching for movement. The Honda’s door hung open, but there was no one inside. Already, they’d passed a dozen or more vehicles but had seen no people. That was a good thing. Still, Jenn remained on high alert.
As the Tesla found its way into the right lane again and left the Honda behind, Sam bit a fingernail and said, “It doesn’t make sense.”
“What doesn’t?”
“It’s been two days. Shouldn’t there be more information?”
Jenn thought about that. Two days wasn’t very long. Even so, someone had probably activated that automatic recording moments before the attack. But that person was now dead, killed by the bombs, and the devastation was so widespread that no one remained alive to update the message. If she were right, it would play on loop, over and over and over again.
Sam chewed on his finger some more. The skin around the edges had started bleeding.
She decided not to share her theory. Sam wasn’t stupid; he understood as well as her that this attack involved the entire country—maybe the entire world—but causing him extra stress wasn’t fair. Evidently, he was suffering from enough already. She didn’t realize how much he was worried about his family in Payson.
“Here.” Jenn offered him the water bottle.
He waved her off and stared out the driver’s side window.
“They’ll be okay,” she continued. “Your mom and sister. They’re waiting at the cabin. If they heard tha
t message, they would’ve listened and stayed inside. Fallout or not, that’s the best place for them.”
“I know,” Sam said, his eyes still fixed on the passing trees. “It’s just my mom. I don’t know.”
“Tell me.”
Sam leaned on the headrest. “She’s not good with handling pressure or change. She’ll lash out and somehow turn this into Nicole’s fault. And mine when we get there. Probably freak out that I took so long, say I’m trying to hurt her or something. All that.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Exactly. That’s how she is.”
“What about Nicole?” Jenn asked. “She’ll blame it on her? I thought you said she was the golden child.”
“She is,” Sam said. “Well, she used to be, anyway. When I was around, Mom always used Nicole to put me down. ‘Nicole does better in school.’ ‘She doesn’t embarrass me in front of my friends.’ ‘Nicole loves her mother.’ As soon as I left, she needed someone to leech off of, I guess, so she started treating Nicole like that.”
“Why does she go to the cabin with them, then? Why’d she come home after exams? Why not stay in Berkeley?”
“She’s never seen it as a problem. Not like I did. She didn’t have to deal with it her whole life. I think she’s starting to get it, though. We haven’t talked much after I decided to leave and move up here, but this last year, while she was in school, she texted me more and more and told me about things Mom did to her. Said Mom always called her and started crying, freaking out that Nicole didn’t love her anymore just because they hadn’t talked that day.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. Anyway, I can’t leave her there. My mom, either. She’s an emotional wreck, but after seeing the way you fought for Gary and Maria and how torn up you were . . .” He trailed off and considered his words. Jenn knew what he was thinking. Still, she appreciated that he didn’t say it aloud. “I don’t know. I have to do something. Bringing them to Flagstaff seemed to make the most sense.”
Jenn put a hand on his knee. “We will. Don’t worry.”
“Thanks.” Sam rapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “We haven’t talked about what happened yet—with your parents. I don’t want to force you or anything. Everyone’s here when you need us. Me, Maria, even Gary.”
“I know. Let’s get your family to Flagstaff first. Then we can talk about mine.”
“Deal.”
They sat in silence after that and kept watch as they passed more idle vehicles, all of them abandoned. Jenn wanted to throw her feet up on the glove box and make herself comfortable, but the motion of the Tesla combined with the melodic hum of its engines tugged at her eyelids. She always struggled to stay awake in cars. Her brother Andrew poked fun at her for it. Today, though, she had to, so she sat on the edge of her seat and turned up the air-conditioning. Sam didn’t object.
On the map, she followed the car’s progress as it twisted through hilly woodlands. When the car came to a T-intersection, it went right and headed for Strawberry, which was now only a few miles away. Soon after that came Pine, then fifteen or so miles until Payson. Overall, they had completed about three-quarters of the trip to the cabin.
On Jenn’s right, the road gave way to a steep bank. On her left were rock faces. The road hugged the side of the hill as it weaved through the woods, and each time the Tesla went around a corner, she held her breath and expected someone or something to pop out in front of them.
A sign marking a switchback appeared ahead, and it advised a speed of only twenty miles per hour. Trees obscured much of the road. Jenn’s chest tightened, and she leaned forward. Sam watched closely, too, one finger between his teeth and one hand on the steering wheel.
Halfway through the turn, a white sedan, its rear end tight to the guard rail on the right, came into view. Next to it and blocking the oncoming lane was a red Ford pickup.
The Tesla beeped. She checked behind them, but the road remained clear.
Another beep.
“What is that?” Jenn asked.
Sam inspected the dashboard touchscreen. “The autodrive can’t find a way through.”
She peered forward. The gap between the sedan and the guard rail wasn’t nearly wide enough for the Tesla, but it might fit between the Ford and the rock face. “Can we get around in manual?”
“Sensors say we won’t fit, but they’re pretty conservative.” He turned off the engine. “I’ll check it out.”
He went to open his door, but Jenn stopped him. “Wait,” she said. “You stay here, behind the wheel. I’ll go. Keep the car running, just in case.”
Sam gave her a questioning look, but he didn’t object. Instead, he pressed his thumb to the ignition. Jenn reached into the back seat and found her backpack, then dug around inside and pulled out Gary’s gun.
“Really?” Sam asked.
She racked the slide to chamber a round. “Really,” she said and pushed open her door.
Sam gripped the steering wheel with both hands. When Jenn stepped outside, the acrid smell of smoke stung her throat. She suppressed a cough. The haze was thicker here than in Flagstaff, and it obscured the mountains and hills in the distance like a layer of fog. The sun had turned red, reminding Jenn of the grapefruits her mother used to buy before the war, and the sky glowed an eerie orange-gray. The air was cooler than it should have been, and she shivered.
Beside the passenger door, she undid her pants to attach the carry holster to her waistband. Sam watched her. He looked equal parts amazed and disgusted.
The pistol safely holstered, a round in the chamber as Gary had recommended, she made her way to the roadblock ahead. The driver’s side door of the sedan hung open. Glass from the broken window lay on the asphalt around it. The hood had crumpled inward. Cracks spread across the windshield in the shape of an elaborate spiderweb, but it hadn’t shattered. The red pickup had fared better. The front bumper looked undamaged, and the windshield was intact. All four of its doors remained closed.
She gauged the distance between the rear bumper of the Ford and the edge of the rock face. The Tesla wasn’t going to fit. Not even close.
Sam leaned out the window. “How’s it look?”
“No way we’re getting through,” she said. “Can we take another route?”
“We’d either have to get on I-17 and come up through Phoenix or go around to I-40 and go down that way, but that’d take like four hours at least, and we don’t have the charge for that.”
Jenn peered at the wreck again. Maybe they could somehow push one of the cars out of the way. She stepped up to the sedan. In the rear was a child’s car seat draped in a blanket adorned with cartoon dinosaurs. In the front, a deflated airbag coated in dried blood hung from the steering wheel. There was blood on the upholstery, too. Lots. None in the back seat, thank God.
How could someone have walked away from this? The sedan was totaled, as if it had crashed into something head-on and at full speed, yet the front end of the Ford appeared fine—no damage at all, from what Jenn could tell.
Adrenaline coursed through her veins. On its own volition, her hand touched the gun on her hip. Then her feet took her to the Tesla at a run. Her hands opened the passenger door.
“What?” Sam said. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel. “Why are you running? What’s wrong?”
“Someone moved these cars,” she said between panicked breaths. “This is a trap.”
15
“A trap?” Sam said with a gasp. “What do you mean?”
“I mean someone blocked this road on purpose. We need to get the hell out of here.”
Sam remained still for a moment and stared at her. Then his hand drifted to the dashboard touchscreen to program a new destination or maybe put the car in manual.
Jenn sat in the passenger seat and went to close the door but stopped. “Shut it off,” she said.
“What? We can’t—”
Jenn’s limbs acted on their own again. Her hands
reached for the water bottle at her feet and stuffed it into her backpack. Then her legs pulled her out of the Tesla. “If someone’s coming to steal your car, I don’t want to be here when it happens.”
“You’re not thinking about leaving it here, are you?” Sam unbuckled his seat belt. “How will we—”
Jenn slammed the door shut. When Sam finally came out, she slung on her backpack and said, “We’re hiding, to wait and see. Just in case. Maybe nobody comes. Then we can come back for it later and find a way around.”
Sam’s eyes flitted to the Tesla. “No,” he said. “I’ll turn us around and we’ll drive—”
“If we do that and they’re already coming for us, we’ll run right into them. I’m not taking that chance.” She checked the rock face. Too steep. They could climb, but it might take too long if someone was coming after them. “Down there,” she said and made for the bank.
At the traffic barrier, she hesitated. Were they really in danger? Or was she imagining this?
Screw it.
She hurdled the guard rail, then scrambled down the bank, the dirt and leaves giving way beneath her shoes. At the bottom, they moved deeper into the woods. The canopy of branches thickened above them. When she stopped and took a knee, she couldn’t make out the road through the trees. Good. That meant whoever was up there—if there was someone up there—couldn’t see them, either.
A bird tweeted a four-note song, and another answered. A light breeze tickled Jenn’s skin. Something putrid overpowered the smell of smoke, and her stomach lurched. A fly landed on her cheek. She slapped it away as the sound of slamming doors cut through the silence.
Jenn held her breath. Had they been followed? Thanks to all the twists and turns in the road, if a pursuing car had kept enough distance, she and Sam would never have seen it.
Sam, a vein pulsing in his temple, made to stand, but Jenn gripped the bottom of his T-shirt and pulled him down.
“—were two of them,” said a man’s voice, faint from this distance.
“You sure?” asked another, this one deeper and louder.
