A growing sadness enveloped his heart like a steel glove, pinching as it squeezed. He fought the urge to give in and presume Kate dead, floating with debris on the gentle swells of the Pacific Ocean somewhere between California and Hawaii.
Jay had received no communication from her, no texts, no nothing since she took off. The only explanation was that she crashed. He hadn’t risked talking with any other motorists he'd encountered—especially not since parting ways with Mac—so Jay had no idea what was going on in the rest of the world. But if it was anything like what he'd seen around Indianapolis, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know any more.
Jay imagined Kate, warm under the blankets back in Bloomington, snuggled up next to him in the middle of the night. He listened for the steady rhythm of her soft breathing as she slept, a comforting reminder of his life just last week. He closed his eyes and latched onto that memory with all his heart. Jay remembered the silky softness of her skin against his as he wrapped his arm over her and she snuggled her hips into his stomach.
A smile creased his face as Jay fell asleep in his wife's arms one more time.
CHAPTER 4
JAY WAS JUST NORTH of Connersville on State Route 1 when he realized he could go no further without having to stop for a bathroom break. He'd only just turned off of I-70 and headed south on 1 when he’d had to grit his teeth against the need to urinate. Now it was overwhelming. He had to stop.
I'm only an hour away…damn it all.
Sighing as he resigned himself to fate, Jay found a spot of deserted road, heavily wooded with trees on either side, and decided it was time to stop. As he shifted into park, he felt a sudden release of tension. Uncurling his cramped hands from the wheel, Jay realized for the first time how tight his shoulders were. Though he'd encountered only a few people on the roads since leaving the interstate, those he had seen gave his vehicle a long hard look. He wondered just how bad things were down here. After all, it'd only been three days since the event.
Jay forced himself to focus on exiting the vehicle and checking his surroundings, not thinking about whatever hell might be taking place in Los Angeles. That would only lead him back to Kate. He was too close to Leah to cloud his judgment now.
Like Mac said, he needed to focus on the mission: get to campus, find Leah, and get the hell out of town before things got worse.
Acrid smoke drifted on the breeze through the bare trees as he stood and stretched. Something was burning nearby. Something big.
Jay swallowed. He hoped someone was burning trash or something and it wasn't a house on fire. He pulled the tire iron from his seat and stood for a second, staring into the woods. The hair on the back of his neck tickled and made him think he was being watched. He spun in a circle and looked across the road.
Nothing.
Jay stared hard at the gently sloping hills and forest that blanketed the road on either side. Scraggly oaks and hickories scratched and bumped into each other in the breeze. It was the only sound he heard—not a single car, airplane, or any other engine rumbled in the distance. That was more unnerving than the silence, for it told of the absolute seriousness of the situation in which mankind found itself.
Up the road about 200 yards, Jay noticed a small bridge—that meant water. If there was one thing he was running low on it was water. He had thought to fill up his canteens with fresh snow when he'd stopped the night before, but now he was down to his last two bottles of Mac's water.
"Once you get down to the last couple bottles, you should pull over and see if you can find a creek or get some fresh snow to melt. Put the snow in containers—keep them in the car with you—and crank up the heat while you drive. Before long, you'll have pure water."
Mac further explained: "If you have to get it from creeks and rivers, I've thrown in a couple packs of water purification tablets. If you're desperate, you can use the Life Straw. I know it seems weird, but just stick it in the water and drink. It'll take care of all the contaminants in the water and keep it clean."
Jay winced as he rubbed his injured hand across his face to wipe away the fatigue. Examining the bloody, crusty rags he'd tied around his cut hand, he flexed his fingers and hoped the antibiotic ointment he'd spread in the wound had prevented an infection. Either way, it hurt like hell. He wasn't sure he'd be able to swing the tire iron if the need arose.
First things first. Take a leak, get some water, get back on the road.
Jay opened the rear door and pulled out the heavy backpack Mac had insisted he take. Inside he knew he had several days worth of food, on top of the water treatment tabs, the Life Straw, and whatever else Mac packed. By the weight of the backpack, he had enough gear for a small war.
He shrugged the heavy pack onto his shoulders, grunting with the effort, then grabbed his two empty canteens and shut the door. He paused, then laughed at himself for worrying about leaving the keys in the ignition. He was the only one on the road for miles. He took one last look around. Again, the only sounds he heard were the branches caressing each other in the breeze.
It's just me out here.
Jay crunched his way up the nearest embankment toward a cluster of trees immediately west of the road. He grimaced at the sound of his own footsteps on the crusty snow and dried leaves on the forest floor.
There might not be any airplanes flying or cars driving, but in the absolute silence of the woods, every footstep sounded like a gunshot to his ears. He took another handful of steps and crested a small hill, finding himself just slightly higher than the roof of his car. From there he had a better vantage point to scan the surrounding area.
To the north, back the way he'd just come, Jay saw nothing but hibernating, leafless trees and gentle hills. Far off in the distance, two trails of white smoke drifted lazily up into the hazy sky. Someone was alive out there. Just seeing those little signs of civilization made him smile.
He wasn't alone.
Every other direction he turned provided more of the same: barren trees, a cold, frozen landscape, slight hills, and now and then a tendril of smoke from some outpost of mankind in the forest.
Then he turned south. From his position at the top of the hill, he saw a dark smudge—a bruise on the horizon—through a gap in the trees. Something big was on fire.
Jay's chest tightened—that was exactly where Leah's school lay. He estimated the distance of the smoke and compared that with how far away he was from the school. As much as he hated to admit it, there was a slight chance—at least by his back of the napkin reckoning—something big was on fire near her school.
A new sense of urgency ballooned in his neglected bladder and he rushed to the nearest tree. As he fumbled at his pants, the backpack continually pulled his shoulders back and his thick winter gloves frustrated his efforts to pull the zipper down. Jay grumbled to himself as he unclipped the backpack and dropped it with a sigh. Groaning in relief, he stood near the rising steam at the base of the tree, watching the smoke in the distance.
The woods still seemed quiet and calm. Jay wasn't sure whether to be relieved or worried. Once he'd finished and zipped his pants, he was about to grab the backpack when he spotted a flicker of reflected light to the west.
About twenty yards away, through a fixed growth of underbrush at the base of the hill, Jay spotted a small stream. After checking on the car, he scooped up his canteens and trotted down the hill. Jay could almost taste the fresh, cold water in his mouth.
He forced himself through a tangle of briars, ignoring the thorns—he was wearing four layers of clothing and a heavy winter coat—and dropped to his knees at the rock-strewn, muddy embankment of a small, swift stream only four feet wide. Jay didn't know it's speed or size made any difference as to how contaminated it might be, so he filled both canteens, dropped sanitizing tablets in both, and stood.
The car!
Jay scrambled back through the bushes—making a lot more noise than he wanted—and clumped up the hill. He threw himself down next to his backpack before crawling on his bell
y to the crest.
Over the top of the hill, Jay was horrified to spot two men digging in the back of his SUV. One wore hunting camouflage and a scoped rifle hung from his shoulder. Jay watched in impotent rage as the man pulled out a box of pictures Jay had brought with him from home. The man dumped Jay's memories unceremoniously on the dirt by the road. He said something in a low voice to his partner—dressed in a bright red plaid field jacket, jeans, and heavy boots.
The keys…
Jay lowered his face into the snow and groaned.
God damn it.
The other man's laughter made Jay clench his teeth in fury. He searched in the snow until he found the tire iron and was about ready to charge down the hill when the one in camo turned and pointed at Jay's tracks.
The two of them moved together and mumbled, gesturing up the hill. Jay slowly lowered himself back down and reconsidered his options. He knew he was no fighter—both encounters he'd had forced him to choose violence as the only option to survive and he'd barely done so out of sheer dumb luck. Jay clenched his wounded fist and winced at the pain.
He'd have to use the tire iron with his left hand, which meant not only would he be untrained in defending himself, but he'd be using his off hand, clumsy and weak. Jay closed his eyes in frustration. If he charged down the hill and tried to fight the two men over his gear and vehicle, he would most likely be shot and killed.
On the other hand, if he stayed put and did nothing, the two men would probably drive off with his vehicle and most of his supplies. He'd be left with only the contents of the backpack next to him and the tire iron.
The Escape's engine started and Jay rolled back over to take a look. The two men shared another laugh, then slammed the doors and peeled out in a spray of pebbles and chirping tires. Jay hauled himself to his knees and screamed as he watched his Escape disappear down the road before turning into the trees.
And just like that, Jay found himself alone in the woods of eastern Indiana with only his backpack and a tire iron. He sat next to the tree, dropped his anger along with the tire iron, and prepared to give in to the inevitable.
Fate, the universe, the gods—he didn't know who or what had blessed him with the life he had—two loving wives, an absolute jewel of a daughter…he had it all.
And within three days, all of it had been stripped away.
Jay cradled his wounded hands in his lap and wanted to just stop right there and give up. Part of his mind wouldn't though. Even as he stared into the abyss of grief and despair that stretched before him like the unending forest he saw through blurry eyes, the calculating part of his mind put forth an idea.
Why not walk to her school?
He realized it didn't matter whether or not they left the school or stayed there and died together as long as Leah wasn't alone.
Jay looked up and wiped roughly at his face. Some flicker of resistance flared to life in his chest. His resolve hardened like tempered steel dropped into a bucket of oil, then quenched in ice water.
No matter what the universe, fate, or the fucking gods threw at him, he wasn't going to back down, he wasn't going to give up. Somewhere out there just to the south, near that black smear of smoke on the horizon, his baby girl waited for him, maybe even—God forbid—injured. He knew she'd be scared—he was—but he was not going to abandon her.
Jay struggled to his feet. "I'm not going to give up. I'm not going to turn my back and walk away. You hear me?" he shouted at the trees. "I'm not going to leave you. I'm coming for you, Leah!"
He bent down and struggled into the heavy backpack again, already dreading the long miles ahead of him.
Despite the weight on his back and the cold seeping into his boots, a new sense of optimism washed over him bringing a wave of heat. He had a backpack full of supplies Mac deemed necessary for survival. He had water, or at least a way of purifying what water he found on the way. His legs were strong and only one hand was truly injured. Even then, it wasn't infected…at least he didn't think so.
The school was about sixteen miles away. It might take him longer, but he was going to make it.
Jay set his jaw and walked down the hill.
CHAPTER 5
JAY LEANED AGAINST A gnarled oak, its bare branches like a skeleton of ribs over the road. He closed his eyes and rested his head against its rough bark, trying to keep the cold air he sucked into his lungs from burning so much. He tried and failed to slow his breathing and calm his heart.
It was no use.
He sighed, painfully aware of the fact that blisters had already formed on both feet. He could have the best gear known to man, but Jay knew his body wasn't cut out for long-distance hiking under load. Certainly not in winter.
The sun hung close to the horizon and as he squinted up through the branches at the increasingly gloomy sky overhead, Jay knew what was coming next. A long, cold night outdoors, under threat of snow. More of the damned northern lights.
He pushed himself off the tree and panted, the cold air shocking his lungs. Each time he took a breath, the temperature forced him to cut the breath short. The harder he worked, the more air he needed, the colder it got, and the shorter breaths he took. It only took him a few dozen laborious steps to see stars.
Shaking his head, Jay felt a trickle of sweat drip down the back of his neck, chilling the skin between his shoulder blades as it traveled down his back. He had to find shelter, and he had to find it soon or he might not be alive to make it to Leah's school.
As he tromped through the thin crust of snow on the ground, the sky overhead reminded him the snow might be even thicker relatively soon. Jay clenched his jaw at the unfairness of it all, but pushed forward nonetheless. Leah's picture, ensconced in his jacket pocket, drove him forward. He'd already sworn to make it her school or die trying, but for the first time, a part of him recognized his success was not a foregone conclusion.
Jay almost didn't notice the first car as it worked around the bend up ahead. The sound of its engine, so achingly familiar yet absent in his recent world, sent Jay into an adrenaline-fueled scramble for cover.
His only option was to get behind one of the bigger trees lining the road and get as close to the ground as possible. He braced himself behind a large maple, shrugged out of his dull green backpack and collapsed to the ground, breath steaming in the cold air.
Part of him, as he lay there on his back on the frozen ground staring at the leaden sky, wanted nothing more than for whoever it was in the car to just keep driving. His body was sore, his feet were on fire, his lungs burned with a cold heat, and he was hungry—so hungry—he almost welcomed the embrace of unconsciousness.
But another part of him, the part still strong enough to desire seeing his daughter once more, prayed for whoever was in the car to stop and investigate the odd looking lump by the side of the road.
So Jay waited and let his destiny come.
The car's engine grew louder then faded as it passed him. Jay closed his eyes and exhaled. The decision had been made. They didn't stop, so now it was his job to haul himself to his feet and keep going, looking for shelter. Or he could take the easy way out, allow the cold to seep through every square inch of his body and quench the fire in his feet and lungs, then drift off to a never-ending sleep.
His hands, clenched with pain and cold, snaked into his jacket. Jay held the picture of Leah like a talisman. Just holding the image in his hand and looking into her eyes gave him the tiniest burst of strength needed to get back to his feet.
He pulled the backpack onto his aching shoulders with a groan, took one last look at the picture before packing it away, and started moving. Jay mechanically put one foot in front of the other until he found himself back on the road again.
Against all logic, he heard the sound of a second car. Jay stopped and stared up at the heavens with his arms out.
"Really?"
He hobbled off the road and collapsed on a bare patch of earth, waiting to see what would happen.
The car, an
old beat up Toyota Celica raced by, the driver not even looking away from the road. Three waving kids in the back seat had their faces pressed to the windows though.
Jay blinked and watched the car’s taillights disappear around the next curve.
"Well, that happened…”
Before he got back to his feet, his ears picked up another sound, all-too-familiar but completely lacking in the last few days. It was the sound of not one engine but many engines.
The sound of traffic.
Jay turned and looked south, waiting for what might come around the corner next. A stream of cars emerged, led by a pickup truck dangerously loaded with household goods—including a washing machine—at a slow, almost sedate pace. No one smiled or waved as they passed. Most of them stared straight ahead.
Jay certainly understood that feeling.
He watched as car after car drove by, all of them doing about 30 miles an hour. Each vehicle had been stuffed to the gills with possessions and people, children teetering on top of items or on their parent’s laps. It was like an entire community had pulled up stakes and left, setting out into the great unknown for some promised land.
Jay smirked. It was exactly what he was doing, only he didn't have his car anymore. Or his neighbors.
"Hey," Jay croaked. The cars continued to roll by. More than one had windows down as people smoked, despite the cold air.
"Hey!" Jay called and raised one gloved hand. The movement caught the eye of the nearest driver, tooling along in a little Mini Cooper, but the man didn't even so much as slow down. He stared at Jay as he passed and then turned back to face the road ahead.
Solar Storm: Season 1 [Aftermath Episodes 1-5] Page 20
