by Harley Tate
Madison pressed her lips together to keep from frowning. Part of her wanted to rush over there and break the doors down without wasting another minute, but one glance at Peyton and Drew and she knew her mother was right. They needed to be strong. Ready.
She stood up and followed her mother into the kitchen. If they could feed everyone and come up with a better plan than the one from the night before, maybe her father wouldn’t have to shoulder the heaviest load.
Her mom opened the cabinet doors and let out a little yelp of satisfaction. An unopened jug of Shake ’n Pour Bisquick sat on the shelf next to the salt and baking soda. She held it up with a triumphant smile. “Forget biscuits. We’re having pancakes.”
“Do you think we can spare the water?”
Her mother nodded. “There’s a fifty-gallon water heater in the utility closet. I’m pretty sure the people who live here left for spring break before the grid failed. If so, that means it’s probably full.”
Her mom’s blue eyes sparkled in the morning light. “We have enough water for pancakes, coffee, and if we can fill the bathtub—”
Madison’s heart almost skipped a beat. “We can get clean?”
“And if we’re lucky, use the gray water to wash some clothes.”
Madison opened up the next cabinet and pulled down a glass bowl. Her mother was right. Pancakes, a bath, and clean clothes would do more to improve their moods than any rushed plan of attack. They could take a few hours to rest and recover and monitor Drew and Peyton. The radio station wasn’t going anywhere.
She set the bowl on the counter with a smile. “What are we waiting for? Let’s get cooking.”
Chapter Nine
TRACY
863 Dewberry Lane, Chico, CA
12:00 p.m.
The sound of laughter brought a stillness to Tracy’s insides. A certain calm came from a morning spent in normalcy—washing clothes, cooking breakfast, enjoying good company. It was fleeting. The sun would advance across the sky, the evening would come on, and darkness would descend like a thick wool blanket.
Gone were the streaks of green and blue that lit up the night for the first few days after the solar storm. In their place, darkness reigned.
In the abstract, she could handle the lack of power. They had camped in remote enough places that the absence of artificial light didn’t bother her. But nothing could prepare them for the threat the darkness brought.
Fear. Dread. A sweat-slicked anticipation that someone out there in the night wanted to do them harm. After the fire, Tracy wasn’t sure she would ever sleep soundly again.
“Had I known how many beans we’d eat after the apocalypse, I would have spent some more time learning how to cook them.” Madison sighed as she held up two cans. “Green beans or peas?”
Brianna groaned. “Have you ever smelled a canned pea? It’s like a combination of vomit and rotting garden.”
“Well now that you’ve won me over, peas it is!” Tucker snatched the can of peas from Madison’s hand and tossed it back and forth as he walked over to the kitchen counter.
“I’m warning you Tucker, your breakfast will come right back up if you open that.” Brianna stood in the door of the pantry, hands on her hips as she stared at her boyfriend.
Tracy held in her laugh. Watching Tucker and Brianna give each other grief reminded her of the past, when Walter was a young college student out to win her over, and she was too focused on learning to give him the time of day.
She smiled and caught her husband’s eye. “Do you remember that time you tried to cook me dinner?”
His eyes lit up. “Which one?”
“You know. In Albuquerque.”
Walter held up his hands. “In my defense, I had no idea bell peppers were hollow.”
“You’re joking.” Madison turned to her parents and looked first at her dad and then Tracy. “Right, Mom?”
Tracy let a small laugh escape. “Not a chance. Before he met me, your father wasn’t much for cooking.” She walked over and slipped an arm around his middle. “But he still makes a mean PB&J, all these years later.”
He leaned in and kissed Tracy’s temple. “It’s the cinnamon raisin bread. That’s the secret.”
“Aww, man. People really eat these?” A can clattered onto the counter and Tucker staggered back, clutching his midsection and his nose at the same time.
Brianna smiled in triumph. “Told you so.”
“Hey, don’t knock the canned peas. If we don’t find a place to settle down and start a homestead, that might be the closest thing to a vegetable we’re going to get.” Walter stepped forward and grabbed the can, inhaling deep as he stuck his nose into the open top. “Not as bad as tray-rat sausage. You want to smell foul? That would be it.”
“The more you talk about the Marine Corps, Mr. Sloane, the happier I am I never enlisted.”
Walter shrugged. “It wasn’t all bad. I can fly a Hornet at Mach 1.8.” His smile fell and he sagged a bit against the counter. “At least I could before.”
A hush fell over everyone as the reminder of their future killed the good mood. Tracy held her hand out for the can. “There’s a couple cans of tuna and some mayo in the pantry. You’ll never taste the peas when I mix it all up.”
Her husband nodded. “Madison, can you check the garage for any more supplies? Sometimes people store their extra shelf-stable stuff out there. Brianna, there’s a half a case of bottled water in the pantry. We can drink it. Tucker, can you search for a portable radio? If there’s one around here somewhere, we can check on the girl broadcasting and see if she’s still there.”
Everyone dispersed and Walter smiled at his wife. “How are you?”
“Better. The medicine you found is working. My hand only hurts once in a while now.”
“Good.” He stepped closer and dropped his voice. “If we go after that girl, you’ll have to stay here, you know that, right?”
Tracy hesitated. Deep down, she did, but it still stung. “Someone has to watch Peyton and Drew, and I suppose it should be me.”
“You’re the only one who can’t use both her hands.” Walter took her injured hand in his and turned it palm up. The worst of the wounds stopped weeping that morning, but the skin still refused to scab. “It will be dangerous. Worse than the student health center.”
“About that—” Tracy still hadn’t convinced Walter to open up about what happened there. From the blood on his clothes and the haunted look in his eye, she guessed he’d made some tough choices.
“We can talk about it later. Suffice it to say, we’re lucky no one died.”
“You mean not one of us.” Brianna strode back into the room, an open case of water in her hands.
Her husband didn’t answer and Tracy’s eyes went wide. “Is she right, Walt? Did you have to kill someone?”
He glanced at Brianna. “How did you know?”
She exhaled, her shoulders lowering as she thought over how to answer. “You don’t strike me as the bygones type. After what happened to Peyton, I figured you took care of whatever threat presented itself.” Brianna turned and set the water on the counter. “Am I wrong?”
Walter shook his head. “No. You’re not.”
“Good. Because whoever tried to kill Peyton deserved whatever they got.”
Tracy knew Brianna shared the same type of ethos as her husband, a sort of warped golden rule where another’s actions determined their fate. “Have you changed your mind about this rescue attempt?”
Brianna scoffed. “No. It’s a terrible idea.”
“But you’ll do it?”
She glanced at Tracy before answering Walter. “Yes. But only because it matters to Madison. If she changes her mind, I’m fine with it. We have the medicine, we’ve had a chance to stop moving and clean up and eat. So far, the benefits have outweighed the costs.”
“But?”
“At some point, those scales will tilt the other way and I’ll regret ever stepping foot on Chico State’s campus.”
Tucker spoke up from the entry to the hall. “Found a radio. If we’re going in, we should do it soon. She’s sounding pretty desperate.”
Tracy steeled herself. All too soon, her husband and daughter would be leaving her again. She just hoped they would once again make it back.
Chapter Ten
MADISON
Parking lot, CSU Chico
4:00 p.m.
Madison replayed Mandy Patterson’s last broadcast over and over in her head as they staked out the communications building. She’d claimed their water and food had run out and that one of her friends wouldn’t wake up.
If there was even a chance she told the truth, then Madison couldn’t turn her back. They might not be able to take Mandy and her friends with them to Brianna’s cabin, but they could at least save them from certain death locked in a building.
She crouched down next to her father as he used the binoculars she had purchased at the sporting goods store in Davis before the CME hit. “I see no activity from the outside. It’s a black box as far as we know. There are five entry and exit points, one of which is on the roof.”
“Where do you think she’s broadcasting from?”
Tucker pointed at the radio tower. “The booth she’s using is probably in a direct line from the tower, just to save on component and cabling costs.”
“It’s a one-story building, so we’re looking at somewhere in the middle of it. If it’s anything like the radio stations I’ve seen on TV, it’ll have glass walls and plenty of equipment inside.”
Tucker nodded. “That’s right. Even college campus radio stations are built like the real thing. Their broadcast reach isn’t as far, but they have all the capabilities of a full-scale commercial station.”
“How do you know so much about radio stations?”
“I had a vintage transistor radio as a kid and played with it all the time. You can pick up AM stations from hundreds of miles away.”
Madison nodded. She did the same thing. “All right. So we all go in together. Which entrance?”
Her father lowered the binoculars and pointed. “The west side. It’s only one door, and appears to enter into a hall or vestibule. That’ll be our best bet. It’s far enough away from the broadcasting booth that we can get inside without being right on top of them. And with only one door, there’s not as much to defend if we have to retreat.”
Madison exhaled, her breath shaky as adrenaline kicked in. She knew this was risky. She knew she was asking her dad and her friends to put their lives on the line for a stranger. “Thank you all for coming with me. I know it’s dangerous. But I can’t leave her here.”
Brianna shifted beside her and checked to ensure her shotgun was loaded and ready. “We’ll always have your back, Madison. Even when you’re being an idiot.”
Madison managed a small smile. “Thanks.”
“Let’s do this before it gets any later. I want to use the daylight to our advantage. No more breaking into unknown buildings in the dark.” Her father pointed at the tree line. “If we keep to the trees until we’re past the door and circle back, they won’t see us coming. There’s no windows over there.”
He shoved the binoculars into a pocket of his pants. “Let’s do this. First sign of trouble, we retreat, understood?”
Everyone agreed.
Ten minutes later, Madison stood behind her father, scoping out the parking lot as he tried the door handle. Locked. At least that part of her story was panning out.
“You think it’s locked from the inside?”
“Only way to find out is to break in. Give me five minutes; it looks easy.”
True to his word, her father unlocked the door in a handful of minutes with nothing more than a pair of paper clips. Yet another example of a skill Madison wished she’d learned.
He turned the handle, but Madison reached out to stop him. “I love you, Dad.”
“I love you, too. Now get ready. We’re going to get this girl and get the hell out.”
Madison’s father eased the door open and the sunlight from outside cast a ray of light down an empty hall. “Prop the door open. At least that way we’ll have a rendezvous point.”
Brianna shoved a rock underneath the bottom of the door and wedged it open. “Done.”
“Then let’s go. Single file, everyone behind me.”
Madison’s hands shook as she held a shotgun in her hands. The butt of the gun dug into her shoulder as she pressed it tight, trying in vain to quell her nerves.
All she could see inside was the shaft of light. The hall seemed to stretch on forever, leading into a cavern of dim open space and what could have been a wall of windows beyond. How would they ever find the broadcast booth?
The hair on her neck rose as her father stepped into the communications building and momentarily disappeared. Madison rushed to keep up with him, gun raised and ready. Maybe it would all work out. Maybe they wouldn’t be walking into a trap.
Every step they took deeper into the building, her fear and regret rose, threatening to close her throat in panic. Why did I insist on coming here? Why are we doing this? Her breath came in shallow bursts, in, in, out, out. Her cheeks flushed hot, fingers trembling as the grip of the shotgun slipped against her palm.
Brianna eased up beside her. “Just keep walking. It’ll be okay.”
Madison nodded and took another step. Her father had cleared the first portion of the hall, trying door handles and opening the rooms that gave, ignoring the ones that were locked.
“Do you want me to go ahead?”
Madison nodded again. “Yes. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Okay.”
She watched as Brianna eased past her and hurried to catch up to her father. Together the two of them worked as a team, one opening a door while the other swept a gun and flashlight over the room.
Watching the pair of them work so efficiently brought a modicum of calm to Madison’s mind. Maybe they could do this. Maybe it would all work out.
Madison followed her father and roommate to the end of the hall with Tucker on her heels. The building opened up before them in a large waiting area. The windows Madison spotted when they first opened the building door sat straight ahead. She squinted, unable to make out the interior without light.
Tucker pulled out his flashlight and walked past her. Easing up to the dark windows, he made eye contact with Madison’s father. As soon as her father nodded, Tucker turned on the light and lit up the broadcast booth.
Empty.
A lump crashed into Madison’s stomach, churning in a sea of acid as she stared at the empty space. Was Mandy somewhere else inside the building or was the whole thing a trap?
She backed up, retracing her steps to the directory she passed ten feet back. If she read the map, maybe they could figure out where else she could be. A cafeteria or break room. Maybe a green room for guests.
Madison never saw the shadows shift behind her or the looming shape materialize out of the dark. By the time the hand wrapped around her mouth, a knife point lodged into the soft space beneath her chin. The blade dug into the unprotected flesh, deep enough to draw blood, but not slice an artery.
Lips landed hot on her ear, stubble scratching against her naked lobe. “If you scream, I kill you. If you try to hurt me, I kill you. If you try to escape, I kill you. Understand?”
She nodded into the blade, wincing as it cut a bit deeper.
“Good. Now back up.” The man who held her pulled with the hand around her mouth, half-dragging Madison further into the dark. Panic threatened to overwhelm her. Hot, burning tears filled her eyes and clouded her vision. This is all my fault.
She blinked against the temporary blindness, willing Tucker or her father or Brianna to see her. They were all busy with the broadcast booth, scoping it out while she was meant to keep the rear secure.
In seconds, she would be too far away to see, too far gone to do any good. The last week replayed in her head. All the times she doubted hersel
f and gave other people too much credit. When things had gone right, she had stepped up and taken charge. Done something.
When she stood by and let the world lead, only pain and regret followed. Where would they be if Brianna had listened to her and not followed the semi-truck off the causeway? Where would they be if they had killed the man who broke into their house instead of tying him up and talking it out?
Before the power grid failed, structure and rules and propriety held people together. Madison could take her time and be content to watch from the sidelines. She could be weak.
But now?
The man dragged her toward an open doorway, twisting her around as he angled into the space. His belly pressed into her back, pudgy and thick, and the scent of stale beer hit her nose as they neared the door.
She couldn’t let him take her. She couldn’t let him get inside or she may never make it out.
Madison shifted her grip on the shotgun. Why he hadn’t taken it, she had no idea. Maybe he couldn’t figure out how without removing the knife, or maybe he thought she would scream without a hand on her mouth. Either way, it gave her an opportunity.
She couldn’t waste it. Not this time.
With her teeth clenched tight, Madison braced for the knife’s blade as she twisted in the man’s grasp. She jabbed the butt of the shotgun back past her side and directly into his soft middle.
The man grunted from the impact, the hand around her mouth shifted, and the knife dug deeper into her neck. Madison opened her mouth and bit down, digging her teeth into the knuckles of two fingers.
Blood welled across her tongue, bright and tangy and she bit harder as she twisted, the knife cutting across her throat like an arc of lightning searing her skin.
The pain gave her focus and courage and Madison broke free, stumbling back as she brought the shotgun back up. It was cocked and loaded. No more hesitation. No more doubt. This man she could barely see in the dark had tried to take her away from her family He’d used her sympathy to lure them here.
