CHAPTER 4
LEAH STARED AT AARON in frank disbelief. She then glanced over at Thom and took the grim set of his bruised face as proof she wasn't dreaming.
"You're serious, aren't you?" she asked.
Aaron sighed, as if confessing to running over the family pet. "Look, I don't know what to do—or even the right thing to do. I just know that what we did…"
"What we had to do," Leah said with more force in her voice than she wanted. “They attacked us, remember?”
Aaron looked at her as if she'd slapped him. "Yeah, I realize that. Look, one of us got shot, okay?"
Thom turned from the window. "And if Leah hadn’t rallied us to fight back, how many more of us would have been shot? How many of us would be dead right now?” He pointed at the pile of supplies between them. “If they'd taken our food—"
Leah raised her hand. "It's fine, Thom." She looked at Aaron. "I don't like what we had to do anymore than you do, trust me. I didn't sleep at all last night—I don’t want anything to eat. I’m not worried about you taking supplies—”
“Leah…” Thom began.
She turned and looked out the window. "It makes this—what we did—the battle, the fight, whatever you want to call it…it makes all this…"
Leah sighed.
"Yeah, I know," Aaron said.
"I just don't see why it has to be now," Thom muttered.
"It has to be now because…well, we don't know what else to do," Aaron said. He put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the door. "A couple of them wanted to leave before the fighting even started. I can't say I don't understand their motives. The only reason I stayed is because I haven't heard…”
“Heard what?” asked Thom.
Aaron sighed. “My girlfriend lives on the other side campus and I couldn't find her…she’s not at her dorm and no one there has seen her since…”
“I’m sorry,” Leah offered.
“Anyway, I don't have a car, but I can’t stay here any longer. It’s been what, three days? This is driving me crazy," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I have to find her."
"Well I'm glad you stayed as long as you have," Leah said. "And it's not like I—we,” she said with a gesture at Thom, “can stop anybody from leaving."
"So we’re just going to let them leave and take all the food?" Thom blurted. "After everything we went through—the riot and the fighting—and we're just gonna let them take it?"
Leah took a hard look at Aaron. "Yes. We're going to let them take their share," she intoned.
Aaron nodded. "We wouldn't have it any other way. Don't think we don't recognize that without your quick thinking we might all be dead or at least out on the street right now, guys. Think about it—you had the idea to use a tampon on Becca's gunshot wound. That was genius."
Leah rolled a shoulder in a half-shrug. "It wasn't much. I remember Mac telling me about that trick lots of times. I think he got off on making my dad upset…"
"Still, there's a lot of gratitude out there," Aaron said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the hallway.
"You guys sure got a funny way of showing it," muttered Thom as he pushed past and disappeared down the darkened corridor.
Leah sighed. "Don't worry about him, Aaron.” She sniffed and stood straighter, then extended a hand. “I'm sorry things worked out the way they did…for all of us."
Aaron looked at her hand for a moment, then stepped forward and enveloped her in a hug. After a moment, he pulled back, then stared at the floor. "Me too."
Unable to think of anything witty to say to break the awkward silence, Leah cleared her throat and took Thom's unoccupied position by the window. She pulled back the curtain, feeling the cold air seep around the window's seals and tickle her fingers.
"The sun’s been up for a while now. Are you guys going to wait out the day or are you going to leave right now…?"
"I think they want to leave sooner rather than later," Aaron said. "The skies are clear for once, so we know we won't be getting any snow tonight. If we wait till tomorrow…who knows?"
“Where will you go?”
Aaron moved next to her by the window. “A couple of the others have boyfriends and girlfriends across campus. We figure it’s safer to move as a group, so we agreed to go look for everyone together.”
“And if you don’t find anyone?”
Aaron shrugged. “I can’t just sit here waiting,” he mumbled.
Leah turned from the blinding white of the outside world and tried to put the image of the burnt rubble across the street out of her mind. By the time the wounded were tended, and they’d cleared a path down one stairwell, Building A had been reduced to nothing but charred cinderblocks—an empty shell.
"We'll take care of the bodies in the street," Aaron offered.
Leah nodded. "I don't know how many people will stay with us…"
"I think it's just gonna be a handful. You and Thom, the girl who got shot, and Hunter—maybe a couple others. Everybody else is packing up."
Leah sighed. “Everyone?”
Aaron took a step closer. "You sure you won’t come with us?"
Leah met his eyes with a fiery gaze. "Absolutely. It's my fault Becca got shot. If I hadn't convinced everybody to block the stairwells…if we didn't fight…"
Aaron crossed his arms. "We chose to stay, Leah. Just like we're choosing leave now, don't forget that. You didn't force anybody to stay and fight. We did that on our own. It’s not your fault."
Leah pulled the hood of her sweatshirt tight around her face. "What kind of person would I be to run off and leave behind a girl who’s been shot?" She saw the look on Aaron's face and added, "I'm not talking about you guys—I mean, because I was the one who came up with the idea to fight in the first place."
Aaron turned away and moved to the door. "No, I get what you mean. I feel the same way. Now they all kind of look up to me as some sort of leader.”
“Well, you did get us through that rough patch at the end…”
Aaron waved off her comment. “It doesn’t matter. There's nothing left for me here, so I figure why not go look for the cops or firefighters—or the government—or whoever the hell is still out there? Ashley’s still out there too…I have to find her."
Leah picked up a clipboard containing the list of provisions the departing students planned to take. It was a fair distribution of their resources, but she still couldn't help feel a little hollow when she looked at the paltry supplies left to her and those staying behind. She swallowed.
"Well…I guess this is it then," Aaron breathed.
"If you find anyone out there, remember to send somebody to help us out, okay?" Leah said.
"We will," Aaron said, meeting her own gaze. "I promise you, we'll find whoever’s still in charge out there. Somebody's got to help."
Leah watched Aaron's back as he disappeared into the shadows lining the hallway. She wondered what the world would find acceptable in the coming days. It had only been five days since Impact and already she’d seen college students murdered, buildings burned to the ground, food riots…
She sighed and sat on one of the cold couches, tucking her legs up under her oversized sweatshirt. Leah put her face in her hands, pulled the hood tighter, and decided now was as good a time as any for a nice long cry.
Sometime later, when she had shed all her tears, Leah sniffed one last time and lifted her bleary eyes from the floor. She found Thom sitting in the chair opposite her, staring at the ceiling. He looked leaner somehow, more worn than when she met him the morning after Impact.
She smiled at the thought. He’d been just like any freshman, looking forward to a long winter break. Now, he was a scavenger; a battle-tested, wounded veteran who'd fought for survival against marauding thugs. When he lifted his head at the sound of her rustling clothes, his bruised face looked pinched and drawn.
He's losing weight. We all are, I guess…
"How long have you been there?" she whispered.
> "Long enough to know you're not the only one who wants to cry," he muttered.
"They're ready?"
"Yeah. They already took their gear downstairs."
Leah stood and wiped her face, trying to impart a sense of dignity. "Well, I guess that's why it's so quiet…"
"I still don't think this is a good idea," Thom said. "I mean, look at what we have left," he said gesturing with an open hand at two plastic storage totes of food on the floor next to a few jugs of water. "Ramen noodles and peanut butter…"
"It's not that bad…" she offered.
"We had enough to last for weeks…and now?" he asked.
"We still have enough to last for weeks," Leah said as she handed him the clipboard. "There's only four of us now, remember?"
"Yeah…about that…"
“Hunter left?" Leah asked, uncertain why the idea that the resident pothead's leaving would cause her so much distress. "I mean, I guess I’m surprised he didn't leave already—’
‘No, not him, he's sticking around," Thom said rolling his eyes. "It's the girl who got shot—she's pretty weak, Leah. I can't really tell how much blood she lost, but…I mean, I just don't know. I'm not a doctor."
Leah nodded, suppressing the urge to cry again. She knew from Kate's stories how serious a gunshot wound could be. Did they have to worry about infection?
They had no medicine, no painkillers—barely enough first aid supplies to stop the blood and plug the wound. They just didn't know anything.
Leah frowned. No, that wasn’t true. Leah knew she couldn't leave the poor girl to die alone in the dark, and Becca was too weak and injured to take anywhere—especially with the weather outside.
"God, this place feels empty," Leah muttered as she stepped into the hallway.
“Even emptier than before…yeah,” replied Thom.
The only sound in the building was the faint, rhythmic drumming of Hunter’s bongo as he banged out a lament for the fallen.
"Where the hell does he get all his weed?" Thom asked. He turned away and moved across the hall to his own room, quietly shutting the door behind him.
Leah leaned against Hunter’s door. The semi-darkness of the room and its shadowy walls created a claustrophobic, coffin-like space. Leah felt her pulse quicken and her hands grew clammy.
Dad where are you? I don't know what to do.
CHAPTER 5
KATE GLARED AT THE fuel gauge, its needle hovering at a quarter of a tank. She cursed for the 10th time that minute. She had no hope of reaching civilization before her car died of thirst.
As she crossed the Rockies in her abused rental car, she decided to prioritize what she needed to accomplish. At least doing so would keep her mind off the deep-seated, primal fear welling up in her gut.
Okay. Think through this. First priority—find another source of fuel.
She frowned. If that meant stealing from a broken down car or an accident scene, so be it. She had the means to do so now, thanks to her layover in Sedona. But she had to prepare for the worst case scenario too—if she ran out of gas, Kate would be on foot the rest of her journey.
That's a lot of miles…
Kate drummed her thumbs on the wheel as she rounded another switchback, resisting the urge to glance up the sheer face of the mountain. It'd been the same for the past hour: winding curve after a lonely stretch of straight road, followed by another switchback that transitioned into a winding curve as she climbed higher and higher into the mountains.
She made good time out of Flagstaff following a trick she learned from the would be fuel thief, but the lack of cars she encountered on the road now made her worry if maybe she'd taken the wrong route.
Where the hell is everybody?
Phoenix had been an absolute nightmare and the traffic, accidents, and fires kept her from getting within a few dozen miles of the city. The more she thought about how bad Phoenix looked from the outside, the more she was glad she'd had the forethought to get the hell out of Los Angeles.
Five days after Impact, she figured Los Angeles to be an apocalyptic wasteland. Kate remembered as she'd left L.A., fires too numerous to count had already started. The raging infernos that consumed Phoenix paled against the conflagration she imagined eating Los Angeles.
Thinking of all those people, trapped and ignorant of what transpired all around them, lulled by the media into a false sense of security…it was a powder keg waiting to explode. Without electricity, the people in the major cities would be out of food and water within a few days—at best, a week.
She checked her watch. It's been almost a week already.
Kate ground her teeth. Almost a week without power. A week without TV, Internet, or electricity to run basic necessities like refrigerators. She assumed a decent number of people had generators, but how much fuel could they have on hand to keep those generators humming?
Preppers would likely have enough to last weeks or months—maybe even years—but the average Joe with a generator on hand for emergencies and bad thunderstorms…
How much do you have? Maybe a few gallons in the garage and in your car?
And where the hell was the government? She hadn't seen a single police officer since the pandemonium in Los Angeles. Even with the fires around Phoenix and the huge accidents on I-10—she didn't see a single squad car or fire truck, and only two ambulances. One of them had flipped on its side and had been ransacked.
It made little sense. Kate gripped the wheel with white knuckles as she went around another hairpin turn and took it a little too fast. Applying the brakes going uphill in the mountains seemed counterintuitive and she was hard-pressed to slow down until forced. She wanted to get home as fast as possible, but she also didn't want to end up down the mountain in a pile of burned wreckage.
Kate grimaced. One more turn and I'll have to hit the gas again. She willed the mountain's crest to appear sooner rather than later. Her only comforting thought was that she could coast down the mountain's other side.
There ought to be FEMA camps or something popping up by now, she thought, worrying away at the government's lack of response to take her mind off her fuel situation. If even half the conspiracy theories out there were only a little accurate, some governor or disaster relief agency out there should be doing something to help…
She took another hour to crest the pass. With no traffic in either direction for miles, she paused at an emergency pull-off for tractor-trailers and stretched her legs. She stood outside her car, inhaling the clean, crisp mountain air. The silence that surrounded her filled her with strength. The lack of airplanes above, cars hissing by on the road, and cell phones chirping in her purse set her on edge, but nature provided the background noise for which her ears so desperately longed.
Blue Jays called to each other from the scrub pines on the north side of the road. A squirrel, chipmunk, or some other small rodent barked and skittered through the rocks causing a mini-avalanche of pebbles along the road. The sun emerged from behind one of the heavy clouds floating high above and brought a moment of warmth to her face. She leaned back and closed her eyes, inhaling deep of freedom.
Then her gut-wrenching fear was back and sitting on her chest like a physical weight. Kate stood alone—completely alone—at the top of the Rocky Mountains, perhaps tens of miles away from the nearest human. If something were to happen to the car, if she were to run out of gas, suffer a flat tire, or run off the road…
I don't have hardly any food or water left after Stacy's detour…if I don't find something soon, I'll never make it home.
Kate closed her eyes and took a long, calming breath. Remember your training. You survived the kidnapping. You can handle this. This is no different from being shot down behind enemy lines. Survive. Escape. Resist. Evade. Stick to the program.
She opened her eyes and a new clarity filled her vision. The vista spread out before her no longer looked scary—it looked like something waiting to be overcome and conquered.
I have a vehicle; I have fuel; I
have supplies. I know what to do.
Kate got back into her car. She shifted into gear and began the long, fuel-saving coast down the mountain.
As the car rolled on humming tires around curve after curve, slowly making its way east, she kept an eye on the sun and clouds above. Kate knew at any moment, a sudden winter storm could flare up over the mountains. Late-season weather, especially at high altitudes, was unpredictable at best.
As the sun traced its arc across the sky toward another inevitable setting, Kate worked her way out of the mountains, keeping the little car at a steady, controllable coast. She even allowed herself to smile at one particularly long stretch of road as the car gained speed—she had hardly used any gas on the downhill coast.
Her body on autopilot, Kate retreated into her mind and for the first time since Impact allowed herself to open the door of worry that led to Jay and Leah. She wondered if he ever got her texts sent after takeoff on the aborted flight to Hawaii.
For a moment, she imagined what he must feel, worrying about his wife, perhaps even imagining she was dead somewhere out in the ocean. Kate put herself in Jay's shoes and the heartache that flared up surprised her with its vehemence. She had to slam the door on those thoughts and clear her throat, bringing herself back to the present.
Kate focused her imagination instead on Leah. She was a smart girl, attractive the way girls with intelligence often are in that she didn't know she was beautiful. Leah had a way about her that made Kate smile. Though Kate and Jay didn't plan on having children of their own, she often thought if she'd had a daughter, she might be like Leah.
The girl had attitude to spare, no doubt used as a shield to protect herself during the drawn-out death of her mother. Kate saw the same thing in Jay. Laid-back and easy-going on most days, if something caught Jay's eye and reminded him of Monica or her long bout with cancer, he'd close up and resort to sarcasm or indifference in his day-to-day dealings with other people.
In the beginning that attitude hurt Kate more than she could ever let on. She liked to think she knew Jay better than Monica ever did. After all, Kate and Jay had been sweethearts throughout high school. Jay had been her first love, and she had been his. They were meant to be together. The fact that when it was time to graduate, they went in different directions, made little difference to Kate. No matter where she went, she always carried Jay with her.
Solar Storm (Season 1): Aftermath [Episodes 1-5] Page 27
