She'd been dressed in jeans and an oversized USAF sweatshirt. Her hair looked like she'd just rolled out of bed and the look on her face when she spotted him made him remember how hard he'd fallen for her in high school.
"It's been a long time, Jay," she'd said with a small smile. Too soon, the smile had faded. "I heard about Monica—I'm so sorry…is there anything I can do?"
Jay thanked her and apologized awkwardly for not having stayed in touch through the years. She looked nothing like the skinny, outgoing tomboy he knew in school. The woman before him looked strong and confident, someone used to getting what they wanted. But those soft brown eyes were the same he knew from school, the same pools of intelligence that had attracted Jay to her in the first place.
They'd made small talk for a few minutes, then the crushing reality of Monica’s illness fell over them like a wet blanket and the moment passed. She'd gone home to check on her mom's cats and he left to pick up Leah from middle school.
Jay never ran into her at the hospital again though he'd been there plenty of times over the next few months as Monica struggled to gain a foothold against the resurgent cancer in her breast. After an aggressive secondary staph infection took hold, Monica ultimately lost her fight. In the days afterward, Jay lost himself in a fog of grief as he tried to hold what remained of his little family together.
He didn't see Kate again until a week after the funeral. She came to his house unannounced, brought food, and started to clean.
Jay smiled as he stared out the windshield at the deserted corn fields. Kate knew the first thing he would let slide while trying to comfort his daughter would be the household chores. Kate didn't ask for anything and didn't do much talking at all, but she came and she cleaned and her presence in the house was comfort enough. She'd even had the good graces to visit when Leah was home so the opinionated 8th grader wouldn't get any wrong impressions.
Lost as he was in his thoughts, Jay realized he’d already driven back home. He stood on the brakes and came to a complete stop in the middle of the road. Sitting in the entrance to Meadowood, he spotted three different neighbors loading up cars and vans.
It looked like they had everything they owned in their front yards. The Millers had two vans and four kids and all hands were on deck. The three boys lugged boxes and bags from inside the house to Danny, who with the help of his daughter, loaded the vehicles.
Jay kept his car idling in the road and let his eyes drift across the street to the Nguyen family and their neighbors. Everyone loaded their cars with the same frenetic energy. Bags, boxes, and even furniture decorated their yards. No one paid Jay any attention.
"What the hell is going on?" Jay whispered as he let off the brake and rolled by the spectacle. As he turned the first corner, several fingers of smoke stretched up to scratch at the sky. That sent a shiver down his arm—no one ever used fireplaces in his neighborhood that he could remember.
Jay pulled into his own driveway, his mind reeling from one random thought to the next, all trying to distract him from Kate. Then Leah flashed before his eyes. It was like someone slapped him in the face.
Jay’s rapid pulse slowed, his vision cleared. A calmness settled over his shoulders like a cloak in a snowstorm.
He knew what he had to do. He threw open the door and unfolded his lanky frame from the front seat. Mac waited for him.
"I see you found yourself," the older man called from his side of the driveway. Over one shoulder he carried a green army duffel bag. Jay couldn't help but notice the wide belt on Mac’s hip, sporting a large semi-automatic handgun.
"Found myself?" Jay asked as he closed the car door.
"That look on your face tells me you finally pulled your head out of your ass and want to do something about your daughter."
Jay felt the heat rise in his cheeks.
"Don't worry about it," grunted Mac as he walked the duffel bag over to the behemoth on wheels in his driveway.
"I've seen braver men than either of us collapse into a blubbering mess on the battlefield.” He dropped the bag with a grunt. “But the day before, they'd been ready to lead the charge with nothing but a knife." He pulled the green tarp back from the truck's massive bed and heaved the duffel up into the packed cargo area.
"Now," Mac said, dusting his hands on his pants. "Are you ready to plan your trip?"
Jay swallowed. "Yes. I need to get my daughter."
"Good.” Mac clambered down over the side of the big truck and landed like a cat next to Jay. “You've got a long road ahead of you, but I'll help out however I can. I'm heading for my retreat but I’ll escort you as far as I can before I turn north."
"North?"
"Got me a place up in Michigan. I wanted a spot in the UP but that didn't work out. Still,” he said, looking around the neighborhood, “it's secluded, wooded, and has plenty of fresh water and game.” He turned back to Jay. “You and Leah are more than welcome to join me."
"I…" Jay looked around at the other families, throwing belongings into their cars, vans, and trucks.
He noticed Mac's garage looked empty. It was the first time Jay had ever been able to see all the way to Mac's interior door since…forever.
"Thank you."
Mac grinned and slapped Jay on the shoulder. “Don't worry about it. I kinda got used to you hanging around, Cantrell.”
Jay motioned at the empty garage as Mac turned to leave. "You're not coming back, are you?"
Mac stopped and put his fists on his hips again. He looked more and more like a drill sergeant. "If things are as bad as I think they are, there won't but much left to come home to. Scavengers will pick it clean."
"None of this seems real," Jay mumbled. He glanced at Harry Nguyen and raised a hand. "But I'm still going to go get Leah. I was in town and…they shut down the airport."
"They?" asked Mac.
"The…well, they were soldiers, I guess. But I don't know who they were.”
“National Guard or…?”
“I don't know, they had machine guns and a big truck—not as big as that but—”
“You didn't see any insignia? Patches or unit designations?”
Jay shook his head. “They said the FAA grounded all flights. There's been some crashes…"
Mac looked down at his boots. "I'm sorry, Cantrell—Jay. I really am. She was a helluva gal."
"She's not dead," Jay hissed, staring at the empty garage. He cleared his throat in the extended silence and continued, alarmed that he could calm himself at all. "Not until I have proof."
Mac grunted again. “What else did you see out there?”
Jay stared down at his hands. He wanted to go clean the vomit off. "I saw people at a grocery store in Bloomington. Fillhouse Markets."
Mac scratched his chin. "I know the place. They always have good deals on bulk beans. Rice too."
Jay had no clue how to respond to that. "They closed their doors—wouldn't even let people in with cash…"
Mac rubbed a hand across his stubbly chin again, making a sound like cloth dragged across sandpaper. "That's not a good sign. Even in the worst blizzards, places like the Market always took cash. Can't say as I remember them ever closing…"
“So I've heard,” Jay muttered. "Why would they close?"
"It's a family run store,” Mac said. "If he's smart, he shut it down to keep the food for his family and maybe the employees. If I'm right about all this,” he said, tilting his head toward people across the street, “there won't be any food at any grocery store, anytime soon. Without power to run the fuel pumps, trucks and trains will run out of fuel eventually and the food won't get off the farms." He shook his head.
"There's gonna be places with tons of food sitting around rotting. But cities like Chicago will be full of starving people in a few days."
A chill ran down Jay's legs. "I have to get Leah. I've got to make sure she's okay."
Indiana University’s Brookville campus was located east of Indianapolis, right on the border with Ohio
—altogether too many long miles away. The thought of millions of starving, desperate people between him and his baby girl made Jay want to jump in the car and—
"Don't do it," said Mac. "I can tell you want to race off to Leah right now." He looked over Jay's shoulder at the houses lining the street and lowered his voice. “Not now. Let's make it 0300 tomorrow. Too late for the night owls, too early for the early birds. We'll slip out before anyone knows we're gone. If we're lucky, we might make Indy before sun up.”
Jay hadn't even thought about trying to get around Indianapolis, the biggest obstacle between him and Leah. "Travel at night?"
"Why not?” Mac asked. “The headlights still work. Most people will be sleeping, hoping power will be back tomorrow. If we roll past Indy at dawn, it'll be too early for people to bother us."
Jay shook his head. "And you know this how?"
Mac shrugged. "Call it intuition, or call it a guess—call it whatever the hell you want—it's our best option."
Jay nodded. "Well you've been right so far."
"And I wish to God I wasn't. Come on," Mac said, turning toward the garage. "Let's get you inside and find something to eat. We've got a lot of planning and packing to do before sundown. We'll both need to get a little rest before we leave tomorrow morning."
Jay glanced across the street and saw Mrs. Peabody staring at him through her living room window. For the first time, he felt uncomfortable under the old busybody's gaze. She didn't bother to close the curtains.
CHAPTER 4
LEAH TIGHTENED THE COAT around her chest and watched as her breath puffed and evaporated as she stood in line. Next to her, Thom stomped his feet and rubbed his hands together.
"Should've brought gloves," he muttered.
"Should've brought hats and scarves and boots…" she replied.
"I'd kill for a nice hot coffee right about—" Thom began.
"Look, they're opening the doors!" a voice called out. A ripple of excitement traveled back along the length of the long queue wrapped around the dining hall's ivy-covered exterior walls.
Leah didn't feel quite so cold as she had just a few moments before. The promise of hot food and warmth lightened her step as she shuffled forward in the line of people waiting to get inside.
It'd been a long, fruitless day wandering around campus from one locked building to another, looking for anyone from the administration with information. They searched the history and sociology departments—even the physical sciences building—to no avail. They found plenty of other students wandering around campus looking for answers to questions no one knew to ask. They came across a few buildings under lockdown by grim-faced Campus Police officers but were ordered away before anyone would talk to them. The math department building was actually on fire. As the day wore on, they saw fewer and fewer students.
A blast of cold wind hit Leah in the face and reminded her of the other reason the campus seemed deserted. Temperatures had dropped throughout the day with an advancing cold front. When she and Thom had first ventured outside at dawn it'd been a little above freezing. By noon, water in the gutters along the streets froze again.
Now, as the sun inched toward the horizon Leah figured the air temperature to be at least ten below. She stared at the door as the line shuffled a bit forward again. Each step brought her closer to warmth.
A few minutes later when she finally stepped inside, the dream of warmth was rudely dispelled. Leah tried not to let her disappointment show but Thom picked up on it immediately.
"I thought it was gonna be warm in here too. Who knows, maybe it will be soon with all these people? I've never seen this place so packed."
"I'm surprised it's not even more crowded," Leah said over the growing background roar. “Free food on a college campus? If that's not a sign of the end times I don't know what is."
A few people around her chuckled but most looked as if she’d just cracked a lewd joke at a funeral.
I guess in a way, this is like a wake. A wake for the world we knew yesterday.
By the time they reached the dining hall’s darkened interior, the distinct rumble of nervous chatter and the clink of silverware on plates echoed all around them. They stepped up to the service line and grabbed a tray from the stack. A handful of staff workers stood behind the counter chatting with students and encouraging them to stay in good spirits as they passed out refrigerated foods and apologized for the lack of heat.
"Pie?" asked Leah as a worker handed over an entire banana cream pie to the boy in front of her.
"I'm sorry, but we don't have power to cook anything. If you keep working your way down, we got cold cuts and bread. Plenty of milk and juice down at the end—now keep moving, please."
Leah shuffled along, prodded ahead by those behind her.
"No soup or anything hot at all?" someone behind her complained.
“Nope. You want a pie?”
As the worker tried to explain again, Leah found herself in front of a self-serve counter piled high with loaves of bread and jars of peanut butter and jelly. Most of the food lay untouched. Leah watched several students shoot distasteful looks at the display, in contrast to the crowd gathered around the table piled with sliced meats and cheeses.
Thom looked at the peanut butter. "Nobody wants this stuff?"
Leah grinned. "I can live off peanut butter sandwiches. Look, everybody's loading up way more than they can eat…" she said, observing three girls walk by with pies and cookies stacked on their trays.
"I never really came to the dining halls, you know? I always went off campus for lunch,” said Thom.
"I think they've got a good idea," Leah whispered. "Let's take as much of this as we can back to our rooms."
"Well if everyone takes as much as they can, the food’s going to disappear fast," Thom argued.
Leah stepped up to the counter and loaded her tray with two jars of peanut butter and grabbed the biggest crusty loaf of bread in sight.
"Honey, that's the stale bread,” warned a dining services worker wearing a hairnet. “You want the fresh stuff down there by the lunchmeat. Probably gonna dump most of this stuff at the end of the day." As she spoke, her cold breath formed little clouds over the food.
"That's okay, this is how I like it," Leah said quickly. She piled on one last chunk of bread scurried away to find the table. Thom was right on her heels.
"You want some milk? They have a huge stack of little cartons over there—I’ll go get us some."
They had no trouble finding a table close to the windows. Normally in high demand, the cold air outside seeping in around the windows drove most of the others to instead cluster near the center of the building.
They made themselves sandwiches and ate as much as they could, then studied the remains on their trays. Leah glared at a jar of jelly Thom had brought back to the table, trying to figure out how to smuggle it to the dorm.
"Did that jelly do something wrong?"
"Just trying to figure out how long this will last," Leah muttered.
"You really think it's going to be that bad? Nobody knows what's going on…"
Leah frowned. "I know what a CME can do to our electrical grid."
Thom leaned back in his chair. "You're sure that's what happened?"
"The internet’s down—I can’t connect my phone…I honestly have no clue what happened. But I do know that it's not normal to see the northern lights as—strong as we saw—this far south."
Leah picked at the remains of her meal. "Something big hit the planet last night and caused the lights. That's a CME. And if that's what it was, then we're in deep trouble." She sighed.
"And that's why," she said shifting her gaze back to the jelly. "I need to figure out how to get this back to the dorm and how long it will last."
Thom was silent for a moment, watching the other students eat and laugh. "They all look like everything's normal…"
"Except we're all dressed like we're still outside," Leah added. "Weird, isn't it?"
"Well, it's a good thing," Thom said. "We can pack a lot more food into our winter clothes. Look," he said opening up his jacket. "I got three pockets on the inside of this thing and my sleeves are tight at my wrist. I can fill up my arms with bread and peanut butter…"
Leah put her elbows on the table and nodded. "Me too. I bet we can get twice as much as what we've got here."
"Think we ought to get some of the lunchmeat?" Thom asked, eyeing the crowded end of the service area.
"No way," Leah said. "Look at the line—there's still people outside waiting to get in. We'll never get a chance to get over there and they’ll be pissed if we take a bunch. Besides, without refrigerators, any lunchmeat we bring back will have to be eaten in a few days or it'll spoil."
"So what are you suggesting?"
Leah grinned. "Look over there."
"There's no one at the bread counter," Thom observed. "So what?"
"Nobody's touched it since us.”
"Yeah," Thom said taking a piece in his teeth. "I know why, too. The lunch lady was right—this bread is stale…like rock hard."
"When it's the only food you have to eat, it'll taste delicious," Leah whispered. "And peanut butter is full of protein and fats." She scanned the crowd, fearful that people were watching.
"Come on, let's see if we can take the stale bread off their hands. They might even be happy we want it. See how many jars of peanut butter and jelly you can get."
“Want some milk too?"
Leah nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, some people are walking away with four and five cartons. We only took two, so I don't feel bad going back for seconds." Leah pushed back from the table and shivered. “You get the milk and jelly, I'll see how much bread and peanut butter I can get. Then we can meet outside and head back. I'm freezing.”
Thom stood up. "I just want to say for the record, I would normally be totally against this." He looked over the crowd of students as more and more packed into the dining hall.
"But, since this really is the only food we're probably going to get for a while, I have no problem seeing how much we can get back to the dorm."
Solar Storm (Season 1): Aftermath [Episodes 1-5] Page 13
