Supernova EMP Series (Book 1): Dark End
Page 27
“I have my phone,” she said, brandishing it as if the expensive gadget were a gun. He wished it were, the way she looked.
“And the service out here sucks,” he told her, “as you remind me all the time. Animals aren’t going to wait for you to call for help, either.”
The look she gave him told him she was mentally slapping her hand to her forehead, even if she was smart enough not to actually do it in front of him. “My phone has a flashlight and Cassie knows this area. We’ll be fine, Dad.”
“Don’t take rides from strangers, and remember what I told you if anyone tries to grab you.”
She got to within a foot of him and leaned back on the couch in obedient daughter mode. “I remember: palm to the nose, fingers in the eyes, and knee to the crotch,” she recited robotically.
“Upward palm,” he corrected her.
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. I got it. Maybe you should just have me carry mace or something,” she suggested.
Austin grinned, gesturing her toward the door to get her moving. “That’s a good idea. I’ll pick up some bear spray tomorrow when we go into town for groceries,” he commented, only half joking. He had to hide a grin when she gasped in a breath like they were in a horror movie.
“Dad! No! I can’t be the only girl carrying bear spray around!”
“Sure, you can. If you want to wander around by yourself, Savannah, you’ll do exactly that.”
She looked in the mirror on the wall, doing one last primp of her hair as Austin forced himself to remain patient. “You are so overreacting. We’re in the middle of the country,” she grumbled. “The nearest town has a population of like two hundred people,” she finished, exaggerating the low population by a few thousand.
He shrugged back at her, now holding the door open as a heavy hint that he wanted them both out if she was going. “Small towns have bad guys, too. And plenty of teen boys who don’t always know when to keep their hands to themselves,” he added.
She shook her head in disgust. “I’m old enough to date, Dad, and Malachi isn’t like other teen boys.”
So, she was planning on seeing him. Damn. He just curbed himself from telling her she had to stay home, knowing he couldn’t watch her all the time. But he wouldn’t consent to dating. Not yet. He caught her eyes with his before he emphasized, “No, Savannah. Not yet.”
“Da-a-a-d.” She dragged out the word.
This wasn’t a conversation he was going to have again tonight. She was growing up too fast. His wife had made him promise to take care of her, and that’s what he would do, even if it meant dragging her around the country and keeping her out of the reach of boys.
“Savannah, be glad I’m letting you go at all. I could insist on driving you to the creamery and meeting the boy who may or may not be there,” he warned her.
He heard her mumble something under her breath but didn’t bother asking what she’d said as he stepped into the doorway, hoping she’d get the hint that he really had to go. It had probably been one of those snappy comments that would only irritate him further. Austin grabbed his cellphone from the table beside the door and slid it into his back pocket as he stepped outside. It didn’t do a lot of good to carry the thing out in the mountains of west Kentucky where he and Savannah were currently staying, but he might as well. Despite it being inconvenient when it came to keeping track of Savannah, he liked the idea of being somewhat off the grid. So what if cell service was spotty? It gave them more time to focus on the moment, the here and now—wherever they happened to be on any given day.
When Karen had died a little over a year ago, he’d used part of the life insurance money to buy the fifth wheel. He’d waited until Savannah had finished the eighth grade and then they’d hit the road. He just couldn’t stand being in the house with all the reminders. He’d planned on traveling through the summer, and then it had turned into a year. He still couldn’t go back and face her clothes, the pictures of them on their wedding day, and all those little things in the house that were reminders of her.
So, now, he traveled the country with his daughter, doing stories about things national reporters were too busy to worry about. She could homeschool easily enough, and he liked the salt of the earth people and discovering little secrets in small towns and out of the way places; writing about them felt worthwhile. It was a way for him to fulfill his need to travel and make a living while still being a good dad to his daughter.
Finally, Savannah stepped down the two steps of the trailer and looked at him, daring him to say something about the mascara she had piled on. She was pushing it and she knew it.
“You look nice,” he said with a smile, completely throwing her off. “Thanks,” she mumbled, slipping her own cellphone into the back pocket of her jeans.
“Be careful, please,” Austin reminded her. “Be aware of your surroundings, and call me if you need anything,” he said, giving her a quick hug.
“I will, Dad. Stop worrying, okay?” she said, squeezing him back. “We’re just getting some ice cream. It isn’t that big of a deal.”
After she checked for her key, he locked the trailer door, though even he admitted it was a little silly considering they were out in the middle of farmland. Still, it was an old habit, and one really never knew when someone could stop by and rifle through their things.
Turning away from the door, Austin watched as his daughter cut across the pasture, dodging horse manure as she headed towards the dirt road that led into town. He shielded his eyes with his hand and saw Cassie standing under a tree by the roadside, gesturing for his daughter to hurry. He waved back when Cassie spotted him and sent him a big wave, happy to know Savannah had made a friend—especially one who lived just a few farms down the road. In another moment, Savannah picked up her pace, almost jogging as she rushed to meet her friend. He watched for another minute as they met and bumped shoulders before starting the mile or so’s walk into town.
Austin would have driven them, but Savannah had wanted to walk, and he was going in the opposite direction anyway. He climbed into his black F-350 and started the diesel engine, taking only a quick glance at the GPS before bouncing down the bumpy driveway and heading for the highway. Callum Barker had called him a few days ago, completely out of the blue, and asked to meet. Austin had thought it strange, but Callum insisted it was important and that the story would be worth his time. He’d also promised the meeting would take less than five minutes, which meant Austin would be home in plenty of time to make sure Savannah met her curfew—and to go looking for her if she lingered in town with that boy.
By the time he hit the highway, the meeting had taken over the fore of his thoughts. Austin remembered Callum as being a little off when they’d been in college, one of those conspiracy-type guys, but he’d sounded desperate on the phone. And they’d spent enough nights drinking together that Austin figured he at least owed him the gas it would take to hear him out. He figured he’d meet him, give the guy the proverbial pat on the head, and promise to look into the evidence he presented and be on his way. Maybe it would even be an interesting diversion from his usual stories and offer a brief change of pace. That couldn’t hurt, right?
The meeting place was a twenty-minute drive from the farm, set in some corner of nowhere. When Austin had punched it into his GPS, the dot had looked like it was in the middle of a forest, on the bank of a river with nothing else around it.
“Where am I going?” he muttered after driving about ten miles up the highway. The GPS was telling him to take a right turn on a muddy road that was barely wide enough for his truck to squeeze through the trees.
He heard the first branch scrape alongside his truck’s side after driving only fifty meters or so, right around the moment his GPS alerted him to a lost signal. He was on his own. In another minute, he grunted with annoyance and brought the truck to a stop. A fallen tree blocked the so-called road ahead—if he wanted to meet Callum, he’d have to go the rest of the way on foot.
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