by Alex Gunwick
Her throat constricted. So he’d chosen today, of all days, to sneak out?
Really?
She picked up the phone on his desk and punched in his best friend’s number.
“We’re sorry. All circuits are busy right now. Please hang up and try your call again later.”
“Great.” She hit the end button and set it on the desk.
There was no need to panic. He was probably over at Josh’s house. She hurried downstairs and grabbed the car keys off of the key rack by the front door.
When she arrived at Josh’s house, she rang the doorbell.
“Oh, hello Liz,” Connie said as she wiped her hands on a lemon-yellow apron. “The boys are playing upstairs. I was just pulling some scones out of the oven. Would you like some tea?”
Relief flooded her. At least he was safe.
“How long has he been over here?” Liz followed Josh’s mom into the kitchen.
“A couple of hours. I made blueberry today. They go great with ginger peach tea.”
“I’m guessing you haven’t heard the news?” Liz asked.
“About the bombings?”
Liz nodded.
“Oh sure,” Connie said. “We’ve always known this day would come.”
“What?”
“Well, it talks about it in Revelation. Our souls are prepared for the end of days.”
Her nonchalant attitude stunned Liz. Connie and her husband had asked her to join them at church, but they’d never mentioned details about their belief system. They were welcoming without being pushy.
“Aren’t you scared?” Liz asked.
“No.” Connie set a tea kettle on the stove. “But I do hope the angels come to lift us up before things get really bad.”
“You know, I forgot that I have an appointment tonight,” Liz said. “I really should be going.”
“Are you sure? The scones are so much better when they’re warm.”
“I could take one to go,” Liz said, not wanting to hurt the other woman’s feelings. Crazy or not, the woman’s baked goods were heavenly.
“I’ll pack a doggie bag for you,” Connie said.
Kyle and Josh bounded down the stairs like a pair of wild animals.
“We smelled cookies,” Josh said.
“Hey Mom,” Kyle said with a sheepish grin.
“You’re in big trouble,” she said.
“I tried to call you, but the phones weren’t working,” Kyle said.
“And I suppose you couldn’t stop long enough to tell Brittany you were leaving?”
“Uh…” He pigeon-toed his tennis shoes and stared at them.
“We’ll talk about this when we get home.” Liz turned to Connie. “Thank you for watching him. I hope he wasn’t a bother.”
“Not at all. I’m just happy Josh finally made a friend.”
Josh’s plump face turned pink. He shoved a scone into his mouth.
“Bye, Kyle,” he said, crumbs flying out of his mouth.
“See ya,” Kyle said.
Liz waited until the car doors closed.
“You do not leave the house without telling someone where you’re going,” she snapped. “Do you understand me?”
“Sure.”
“Kyle, I’m serious. You’re grounded.”
“You’re grounding me during the end of the world?” he asked in a tone of disbelief.
“The world isn’t ending. At least I don’t think it is,” she said. “But until we know what’s going on, we’re staying in the house. If I catch you sneaking out again, you’ll wish the world had ended.”
2
Sierra waltzed into her apartment. After dumping her backpack onto the floor, she kicked off the Coach shoes she’d scored at a thrift shop. She padded into the living room where her roommate Nina sat on the couch. A romantic comedy blared from the television.
“You’re not going to believe who I ran into on the way home.” Sierra flopped down next to her and reached for Nina’s bottle of neon green nail polish. “New color?”
“Yeah.”
“I wonder if it will look good on me.” Sierra opened the bottle and began to paint over her existing light blue manicure. “Anyway, I ran into Donovan Hunter.”
“The basketball player?”
“Yes. Apparently he’s single now. He dumped his girlfriend last week.”
“Why?” Nina asked.
“Who cares? Did you hear what I said? He’s single.”
“And I suppose you want to be his new girlfriend?”
“Of course.” Sierra’s brows knitted together. Didn’t everyone know who he was? “He’s not only the hottest guy on campus, but he’s also the most well-connected. His father runs the largest law firm in Newport Beach. They know everyone who matters.”
“Good luck,” Nina said dismissively.
“What? Are you saying he won’t go out with me? Am I too blonde? Not tan enough?”
“I’m sure your hair and skin color are fine. I hope it works out for you.”
“What’s wrong with you today?” Sierra asked. “Are you still pissed that I ate your trail mix? I told you I’d replace it. I ran out of granola bars and I was hungry.”
“I don’t care about that. Besides, I wouldn’t mind seeing you get fat,” Nina said with a smirk. “But we have way bigger problems.”
“Like what?” Sierra cocked her head to one side. Had Nina found out she’d used her conditioner again?
“Apparently the world’s ending,” Nina said.
“Did Eric break up with you?” Sierra asked. “Don’t worry, there are way hotter guys on campus.”
“No. I mean, it’s really ending. Haven’t you heard the news?”
“No. I was at the study session for Chem. Electron configurations suck, but I think I understand enough to write a paper about it for class. You should have come. This class is much harder than I’d expected. Maybe I should have majored in something easy, like underwater basket weaving.”
“That’s not a real major.”
“I think it is, up at UC Santa Cruz or something. Humboldt maybe? They need something to do while they’re smoking Humboldt Gold.”
Nina rolled her eyes and grabbed the nail polish. She resumed painting her nails.
“Oh come on, you know it’s one big hotbox up there,” Sierra said.
“Speaking of hotboxes, did you get to the lesson on nuclear fallout yet?”
“No. I don’t think it’s part of the curriculum. Why?”
Nina sighed and set the polish down. She gingerly picked up the remote and changed the input back to live TV. A bright red message appeared on the screen. Sierra had seen the Emergency Broadcast tests many times, but they’d never been anything but a test.
“How long has it been on for?” Sierra asked.
“About an hour.”
“So it’s not a test?”
“Not unless it’s the longest test ever. It cut off in the middle of a double Jeopardy answer. Hey, do you happen to know what permanently frozen subsoil is called?” Nina asked.
“Permafrost. Was that the question?”
“Yes.”
“I should go on that show. It’s not that hard.”
“You don’t know anything about history.”
“I could study,” Sierra said.
“You can’t study for every question.”
“Yes you can.”
“Really? If that’s true, then tell me everything I need to know about the end of the world,” Nina said.
Sierra rolled her eyes.
“I’m sure this is just a test. Have you even looked outside?”
“We can’t see LA from here,” Nina said.
“Why not? If we get on the roof we can, but the door’s locked.”
“Says you.”
“You have a key?”
“No, but my brother taught me how to pick a lock over the summer,” Nina said.
“Why?”
“You have no idea how boring it can get on a
ranch in Oklahoma. Next summer I’m getting a job. My parents can’t make me fly out if I have a job.”
“You don’t need a job. You’re rich.”
“For now. If this gluten-free thing keeps up, wheat sales might drop and then we won’t have as much money.”
“Gluten is the devil. They should plant corn or something else,” Sierra said. “I want to see the Midwest. Amber waves of grain and all that. You should take me with you next time you go.”
“If we’re all still alive for Thanksgiving, you can come with me.”
“Why wouldn’t we be alive?”
“Duh, nuclear war.” Nina jabbed a finger at the TV.
Sierra grabbed the remote and flicked through the channels. Every screen was the same. Her heart beat faster. What if they really were in the middle of a nuclear war? It didn’t seem possible, but why would they leave up the messages if it weren’t true?
“Let’s go to the roof and see if we can see LA,” Sierra said.
“Sure, as soon as my nails dry.”
Ten minutes later, they stood at the top of the stairs. Sierra reached for the doorknob.
“It’s locked,” Nina said.
Sierra twisted the knob just in case. The door swung open. The sound of several male voices filled the air. She walked out onto the gravel-covered roof. As she crunched across the gravel, Cameron turned around. Lonnie stood next to him, beer in hand. They were both in her American History course. Total stoners, but cute enough to invite to parties.
“You guys here to watch the apocalypse?” Cameron asked.
“It’s real?” A lump formed in the pit of her stomach. Until now, she’d thought it was a big joke.
“Take a look.” He handed her a pair of binoculars.
She took them and turned toward LA. They were a good forty miles away, but there was no mistaking the ominous shape of a mushroom cloud.
“Holy shit.”
“Let me see.” Nina snatched the binoculars. “Yep. It’s real. I told you it wasn’t a joke.”
Sierra backed away from the group. Her breath caught in her throat.
“Are you going to pass out?” Cameron asked.
“No,” she whispered, not entirely convinced she was telling the truth. Her vision narrowed, darkness pushing in from every side.
“Sit down. Have a beer.” Lonnie pulled a can from a small ice chest.
She sat on an overturned bucket and took the drink. She popped it open with trembling fingers. After taking several long swigs, she turned away from the others. Her father had told her time and again that if nuclear war ever broke out, she should head to the cabin. She’d always laughed it off as paranoia. All of her dad’s prepping seemed like a ridiculous waste of time and money, but maybe he’d been right. She whipped out her phone and tried to call him.
“We’re sorry but all circuits are busy right now. Please hang up and try again later.”
“Dammit.”
“What?” Nina asked.
“Phone isn’t working.”
“I tried to call my dad earlier,” Cameron said. “Couldn’t get through.”
“Should we even be out here?” Nina asked.
“We’re too far away to get hit with radiation,” Lonnie said. “I watched a documentary about how they made the bomb we dropped on Hiroshima. Unless the wind changes, we should be fine.”
“My dad’s in San Jose right now,” Sierra said as she punched in the number for her mom’s phone. The call didn’t go through to her cell or the home number. “I’m supposed to be going to our Bug Out Location.”
“Your what?” Cameron asked.
“My dad’s into prepping, so we have a bunch of food and water at our cabin. He has these monthly family meeting safety drills.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m supposed to go to the cabin if we have a huge earthquake or nukes start blowing stuff up.”
“Where is it?” Nina asked.
“Up in the mountains.”
“How are you going to get there?” Lonnie asked.
“Ride my bike. It’s about twenty miles away.” Ugh. It would take forever to get there.
“Too bad you don’t have a car,” Nina said.
“My parents couldn’t afford one,” Sierra said. “But I don’t really need one right now. Everything I need is a bike ride away.”
“True. Parking sucks here anyway,” Cameron said.
“I guess I should get going before it gets dark,” Sierra said.
“You’re seriously going to leave?” Nina looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Are you sure? Maybe your mom will come pick you up. If you leave, how’s she supposed to find you?”
“I doubt she’d try it. We’re all supposed to head to the cabin without waiting for anyone else.”
A shrill beep emanated from their phones. Sierra pulled hers out of her back pocket and read a text message from campus security.
President Grayson has declared Martial Law. Mandatory curfew will begin at sunset and last until seven a.m. All students should shelter in place until further instructions are available.
“Guess I’m not going anywhere,” Sierra said.
“Not tonight,” Cameron said.
“I hope my family’s okay. Isn’t it weird that they could text us even though we can’t call out?” Sierra asked.
“Maybe texting works.” Lonnie bent over his phone and tapped furiously.
Sierra texted her mom, dad, and brother. Maybe one of them would get back to her and tell her what to do. In the meantime, she’d have to wait out the apocalypse.
As Luke drove across the California Aqueduct toward the small town of Patterson, he scanned Highway 5. Long-haul trucks lined up like dominos rolled down the road. Cars weaved in and out of the two-lane road as they raced toward their destinations. Up ahead, cars and trucks were crammed into the turnoff for a roadside shopping center. For a brief moment, he considered getting gas farther down the road, but he couldn’t risk running out.
He zippered into the snaking line of vehicles headed for the gas station. There were only two options: one on either side of the road. He chose the one to the left. It would be easier to get in and out because it had multiple access points to the main drag. The line inched forward at a snail’s pace.
Across the parking lot, an increasingly large crowd waited to enter the small store attached to the gas station. Their gazes wandered and they shifted from side to side. Several men rested their hands near bulging pockets in their jeans. They were probably packing. The central valley was full of people who believed in their Second Amendment right to bear arms. They’d exercise their right if provoked, so he kept a wary eye on them.
Ten minutes later, he reached the pump. He’d only used a third of a tank, so it didn’t take long to fill up. He’d spotted several people carrying red plastic gas cans out of the store. If there were any left, he’d buy them all.
The line to get inside had grown by another twenty people in the time it took him to find a parking space. He’d had to backtrack farther into the shopping center to park at a fast food restaurant. Signs on the window indicated that the hamburger joint was out of food. Apparently they’d had a run on food, not surprising considering the circumstances.
“It’s a hell of mess,” a trucker said as he got in line behind Luke.
“Where are you headed?”
“Modesto. Went through the 152 junction on the 5 about thirty minutes ago. Took me over an hour to go two miles.”
“Why?” Luke asked. He turned toward the trucker.
“Hell of a wreck down there. I didn’t think highway patrol was going to let folks through.”
“What happened?”
“Tanker truck turned over. The whole damn place was on fire.”
“And they let you through?” Luke asked.
“It was on the southbound side. They closed one of the northbound lanes, but they were still letting people go past it. You can’t see the smoke from here, but it was black as night trying to drive past.”
>
“Are both of the southbound lanes closed?”
“Yup,” the trucker said. “I’m guessing they’ll close northbound so they can get a cleanup crew up there. With the whole world going to shit, they’re going to have to keep the 5 open.”
“I was headed south,” Luke said.
“Not gonna happen anytime soon. If you’re in a hurry to get home, you should try 33 to 140 to 165. Take that south and you’ll pass through Los Banos. You can connect back up to the 5 about ten miles after Los Banos.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem. You got a radio with you?” the trucker asked.
“I’ve got a small one.”
“Keep it on.” The trucker leaned in and whispered. “I heard they’re already rationing gas in Nevada and Arizona. I bet you anything we’re next.”
“Damn, already?” Luke ran his hand across the back of his neck.
“Shit hit the fan. It’s only a matter of time until all hell breaks loose. After I drop off my load in Modesto, I’m hauling ass back to Bakersfield.”
“Good luck.”
“You too,” the trucker said.
The line moved forward. A man dressed in a gas station uniform stood inside the entrance. He held a shotgun by his side.
“You had any trouble?” Luke asked.
“Not yet, but it’s coming. I can smell it. Desperation. There’s a trailer park down the road. As soon as they figure out the world’s ending, they’ll be down here looting.” The man lowered his voice. “I give it an hour. Two max.”
Luke nodded, but didn’t respond. He had to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible. While he waited to be let into the store, he scanned the shelves. Half of the goods were already gone. Candy bars and trampled bags of chips littered the aisle. A half-melted electric-green Slurpee had tipped over, its content spilling across the filthy tile.
Water. Protein. Carbs.
He’d have to grab as much as he could to supplement the three-day supply in his Bug Out Bag. Although LA wasn’t more than a few hours away, he wouldn’t be able to drive straight down. LA would be covered in radioactive fallout. He’d have to head inland and find a route around the city center. Any deviation in his plan could cost him a day, so it was better to be well-supplied.
