by Holly Hook
Table of Contents
The Freeze
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
End
The Freeze
Book Three of the Barren Trilogy
By Holly Hook
Copyright 2017 by Holly Hook
Chapter One
The ice was even scarier than the dust.
I kept both of my hands on the steering wheel so tight they were both going numb. I couldn’t feel my fingers anymore and had to look to make sure they were still around the wheel. It had nothing to do with the cold, either, and everything due to the fact that we all might die with the slightest tapping of the brake.
And I was still learning how to drive a semi.
Next to me, Jerome was holding onto his armrest like he was on that roller coaster his father made him get on a long, long time ago. This was no ride, though.
Ice. In June.
The whole world was screwed up now.
In June.
The nighttime expressway was mostly empty thanks to the apocalypse, which was great as I'd screwed up many, many times trying learning to shift the semi's gears and handle the clutch. It was only because of Jerome and the fact that he used to watch his father drive a rig that I was able to learn what to do. It was because of him yelling directions at me that we got out of the army base to begin with. I still wasn't sure how I'd managed to focus so well on that.
But without him, I would have tipped this truck over or locked it up way before we got to Pennsylvania.
The expressway was getting more and more crowded the closer we got to the border of New York—and there were more cars and even a couple of semis in the ditch. Even at night, the road looked covered in a layer of sloppy glass. It was shiny, almost like water, but ordinary water didn’t make tires spin when they weren’t supposed to and didn't make you slide when you even sneezed on the brakes.
The semi’s dash told me it was thirty-one degrees outside. One degree below freezing. How could one degree cause this horror?
“Just keep moving,” Jerome said. “Don't forget about the clutch. Don't repeat the Ohio border.” He leaned back into the seat as I drove past an SUV that was somehow turned around, in the ditch, and on its side with the headlights glaring out. No one was standing outside of the vehicle and there was no tow truck with its flashing lights. Even though we’d reached the side of the country that wasn’t affected as bad from the gamma ray burst, resources were still spread thin. All the tow trucks must have been called away for other business. There would be no rescue for these people.
And none for us if we went in.
If we landed on our side...boxes of canned goods would topple and crush our passengers and my best friend, Alana, who was riding in the back. They'd get crushed and buried in thousands of pounds of Westman's Grocery products.
I took a breath. I was mostly holding it. The semi in front of us drove with its hazard lights on and a daring car was trying to go around it. The car fishtailed and the driver managed to get it back under control as I kept my foot hovering above the brake.
Why had I asked to relieve Jerome of his driving duties for the last few hours? That was before things got icy about ten miles back.
I had never driven on ice before. Dust storms, yes, but never ice. I could see, but this was worse. The sun would rise in two hours, maybe less, and we needed to get this semi to a hidden place before it rained its deadly UV radiation down on us. That was hard when it wasn’t safe to move over twenty miles per hour. And if we went off the road…we’d be staying there unless we wanted to get out and walk. That wasn't an option, either. The country around us was open, flat farm fields.
The car nearly lost control again, then righted itself and went around the other semi.
“Don't do that,” Jerome said. “Please, don't be that idiot.”
“I'm glad you're confident in me,” I said.
“Laney, I'm more than confident in you. You know that. You should have let me keep driving.”
“What if something happens to one of us?” I asked. “Someone needs to know how to drive our portable grocery store.”
“We're both going to make it. You have to think positive,” Jerome said.
A bit of heat rushed to my cheeks. Right before we had stolen the truck and run from David and his father, Jerome had kissed me.
And I liked it.
We hadn’t done it again, not yet, but I wanted the chance. A bigger and bigger part of me was falling for Jerome, for the way he understood me and what I was going through. Unlike Alana and the others, who could only guess about me from the outside, Jerome got it. It was somehow a relief to have him around. He wasn't like anyone I'd met before.
But before we dared take a relationship any further, we had to get through this ice first. I never realized a light rain could be dangerous.
The semi in front of us hit its brakes and its red lights brightened.
I had to do the same. I leaned over, depressed the clutch, and hit the brake as we descended through gear after gear.
Jerome swore as we slid forward. The cargo box of the truck swept out, carrying the others and our mobile supply of Westman’s Grocery with us. The picture of food swung into my side mirror. Gina was back there with her injured foot. So was Alana and the others. I couldn’t hear their screams from out here, but I could imagine them.
I swore. “Come on!” I shouted, hitting the brake a little harder, but that made the slide worse. The back of the truck was getting really close to the guardrail.
“Let off!” Jerome yelled. “Let off the brake!”
It was the last thing I wanted to do, but I trusted him. I took my foot off the brake and cranked the wheel to the right. To the side the back was sliding in. I'd heard that helped on ice in drivers' ed. It was the same side, right?
I corrected too late. The truck kept sliding for a second, thousands of pounds of momentum, and hit the guardrail. Sparks flew and a jolt ran through me.
I almost peed.
“Laney!” Jerome shouted.
“Sorry!” I said as we finally slid to a stop. We were still facing forward. That was an accomplishment. The semi in front of us kept going, slowing again to pass a car that was in the ditch with its headlights facing us. “I’ve never done this before.” I wanted to scream, pull off the road, and leave the ice to the more experienced Pennsylvania drivers around us. Only it looked like they were having as hard of a time as we were. Maybe no one could drive in this.
“It’s all right,” Jerome said. “We never get this in Arizona. It’s really rare. We can still go. Just use the clutch and gear up very slowly. You sure you don't want me to drive?”
Someone honked behind us. There was no time to switch seats. I caught my breath and did what he said. At first we didn’t move, but then the truck slid forward, finding a grip on the road. Gentle was the key here. At last, we got righted and the headlights of two other vehicles appeared behind us.
I wished I could ask everyone in the back if they were okay, but we didn’t have time to pull over and do that. If I got out, some other person could slide and hit me. We couldn’t take any risks.
“This is summer, right?” Jerome asked.
“Supposed to be,” I said. “I guess it isn’t anymore. Seasons might not be a thing.” Talking was help
ing me to bottle my terror and keep it down. It was Alana's technique. I'd stuck to counting for the most part, but I'd gotten sick of that now that there was someone here to talk to. We caught up with the semi in front of us and the car, which also had its hazard lights on. When the sun rose, the familiar rust-colored smog would be covering the sky and the sunlight that did come through would be dangerous. Unless we wanted to spend the rest of the day in the back of the truck with nowhere to go to the bathroom and waiting for looters to come kill us for food, we had to keep going. There was no other option.
“There’s an exit up ahead,” Jerome said.
“I just wish the road wasn’t so busy at night now,” I said. Few dared to drive in the daylight anymore. Even though the deadly cosmic rays had mostly rained down on the western side of the country, killing just about everyone, the ozone was screwed up everywhere from the burst. Crops were failing and now an out of season winter was starting. Even the guy on the emergency radio was saying that. I imagined Gina was listening to the battery-powered one we'd found at the truck stop last night.
“We don’t have a choice about it,” Jerome said. “No one’s stopped us yet. The food situation must not be too bad right now.” He eyed the other side of the expressway, to where a lot of people were headed west, to the dead cities that had plenty of supplies left. There were three cars spun out in the median. “I think there’s a town we can stop in for the night off the next ramp. We really shouldn’t drive too much farther in this. The ice might melt during the day. We’ll just hope it doesn’t rain again.”
Another drop splattered on the windshield, like a little life extinguished too soon. A guy in a truck drove around us, going what I thought was way too fast for the glaze on the road. Anything was too fast for this. “We should stop,” I said. “We’ll get off on an exit that isn’t one of those big round ones and see if we can hide somewhere.”
We were running out of places and a giant Westman’s Grocery truck was hard to hide. The military would want this back and might even be searching for us right now, especially after a couple of people who were helping us had helped kill General McElroy. We’d stolen the truck and dodged bullets to do it. Dr. Marson and Private Hudson helped us and then they killed the general. There was no reason they wouldn’t think we were connected to the death of David’s father.
Depending on their relationship, David himself might still be on our trail.
Was the sky getting a little lighter up ahead? We were driving east. The sun would hit us right in the face as soon as it came up. It wasn’t dangerous when it was first rising, but when it was above the horizon, it was time to take cover or burn. Sunscreen didn’t help much anymore. It slowed down the burn, according to the emergency radios, but it wouldn’t stop you from blistering to death if you stayed out more than a few minutes.
It didn’t need to go that far to kill you. I knew that all too well.
Another sign with a picture of a McDonald’s arch and Wendy's pale face emerged from behind the semi that was still crawling in front of us. Exit 246. There was supposed to be food there but I hadn’t seen any open fast food places since we got over here. The workers were either too busy trying to prepare for survival or they had fallen sick from radiation. Less of it had fallen on this side of the country, but it had fallen. Some might have lived. Others weren’t so lucky.
“We can pull off there,” I said. I wanted off the expressway but the thought of going up a curvy exit ramp terrified me. I’d seen more cars in the ditch around those than anywhere else.
I sighed in relief when I saw that the ramp was a fairly straight one that didn’t lead uphill too badly. I pulled off and breathed out. I counted to five as the tires tried to catch, but I didn’t slam on the brakes. I wouldn’t be making that mistake again.
And we made it up the ramp. We were in a tiny little town that was huddled around the expressway, the McDonald’s dark and the Wendy’s just as desolate. In fact, everything was dark. Most people had lost power and I didn't know if that was from an EMP or just by having no one man the power stations anymore. The headlights fell on some broken windows on the front of the McDonald’s, but no one seemed to be inside. The playplace was empty. More water droplets splattered on the windshield. Chaos was ruling over here, too. If people were breaking into fast food places, they must already be in a panic. They knew food would get so short they had a more than two-thirds chance of dying.
But other than that and a couple of gas stations, one of which had cars lined up into the road even though it was closed, there was no life.
“Um, Laney? I hope we don’t need gas anytime soon,” Jerome said. “Two guys are out there manually pumping it. Doesn't look like they're doing diesel right now.”
I saw the prices in plastic letters. Only the regular gas and the premium had prices. Diesel had been left empty. I wondered how the government was paying for the fact that they were using semis to steal food from everyone to hoard it for themselves.
If they were paying.
I made a right off the ramp, crawling to avoid slipping again. The road was still shiny with a silvery sheen. Careful, careful. Was this what drivers had to deal with all the time during the winter? “As soon as we find our people,” I said, “We’re heading back west. And south.”
“I agree,” Jerome told me. “This is hell out here.”
I slid again, but this time I let off the gas and managed to correct the giant truck. We had half a tank. We had filled up back at an abandoned truck stop earlier tonight where a couple of awesome men were volunteering to help drivers. If it wasn’t for them manually filling tanks with gas, we wouldn’t have come this far. Semis used a lot of it.
And better yet, that gas had been free.
I wondered how long the nice volunteers had lived before someone decided to get rid of them and make a profit.
“I’ve got to stop driving,” I said. “Anytime now would be good. The sun’s starting to come up.” The closer dawn got, the more scared people would get, even though it was overcast and drizzling. The smog miles and miles above wasn’t as visible when it rained, but the atmosphere was extra dark even in the daytime like a thunderstorm was coming.
“I think there’s a helicopter,” Jerome said, leaning out the window.
It was the five scariest words he could have said. Up ahead, floating high in the dark were blinking lights. A spotlight swept back and forth, searching.
My stomach about heaved up the chips I’d had for dinner hours ago. Helicopters were bad. They usually meant the military and they were not our friends these days. The Kansas base would be looking for a food truck with Westman’s Grocery on the side and we were it. David might have figured out that we were headed this way and he wanted revenge, if the military still thought he was worth keeping in their base. I'd mentioned something about wanting to find my father in New York to him before he turned on me.We had to hide.
The gas station faded behind us as we drove through twin walls of trees. I wasn’t used to so many trees. You hardly saw them back in Arizona. Green leaves hung off most branches, but some of the weaker trees had already withered and started to turn strange colors like it was fall. Either the radiation or the change in sunlight had done this to them. But it didn’t matter now. We needed cover and out here was the best way to find it.
The helicopter moved away a bit, and then circled and started to come back. A dirt road snaked away into the trees ahead. We were taking that or we were going to die.
“Hold on!” I yelled, braking (bad idea) and doing my best to turn right. The truck slid a bit, but the ice wasn’t as bad here. The trees had blocked some of the rain from reaching the pavement and freezing. Narrowly avoiding the ditch, we turned onto the dirt road and crawled down it. I rolled down my window to hear. I could smell the early morning damp air. I wasn’t used to that. I felt like we were driving through a cold sauna.
I could hear helicopter blades. They were strong and intimidating. The trees blocked it from view and the
searchlight swung somewhere over us.
I swore. Jerome held onto his armrest. I was responsible for saving all of us.
My mind cleared. I was falling into what I called the Survival State. In this state every detail popped out at me and I seemed to miss nothing. Every sound was too loud. Even every smell took on a life of its own. The forest was thick around us but not thick enough. Another driveway appeared and vanished again. There were houses out here but none of the driveways would let us in.
The helicopter’s lights flashed behind the tree tops. They must not be able to see us yet, but they would. There couldn’t be too many Westman’s Grocery trucks in existence. This was the only one I had ever seen.
“Laney—a farm!”
The trees cleared a bit on the other side of him and I saw. An old farmhouse stood there with peeling paint and an old truck parked in the front. The front door was open like whoever had lived there had left in a hurry. Chickens and cows grazed around in the field that made up its backyard and a large brown barn in the back had its doors flung wide open. They were huge doors, maybe enough to let the truck in. These people had fled and opened up all their barns to let their animals go. It was nice of them.
And lucky for us.
I made another right and plowed across the lawn. The helicopter blades were louder than ever. I felt like they were going to come down and decapitate us at any moment, but if our cover was blown there was nothing we could do about it now. I had to tell myself that. It wasn’t my fault. It couldn’t be. This was an impossible situation.
The doors were barely high enough to let us in. Total darkness and the smell of straw swallowed us as the top of the truck scraped the edge of the huge doorway. Headlights fell on boards and metal chains hanging from the walls and stall doors where the cows had spent most of their lives eating crappy feed and hay. This might have been a meat farm. The pulse had saved the animals’ lives.
I pulled us to a stop right before we reached the other wall of the barn. We were covered and surrounded by some unpleasant smells.
There was no ice in here. I clicked off the headlights and turned around in my seat, but it was impossible to see if the military had spotted us. I could only see stall doors and straw through my mirror and just barely. The rest was just a big blind spot.
