by David Lucin
Nielsen stepped inside and shut the door behind him. He’d always been on the paler side, but the color had completely drained from his face. The sight made the hairs on Liam’s forearms stand on end.
“I . . .” Nielsen began but trailed off.
“It’s all right. Take your time,” Liam said, thinking, Come on, kid. Out with it.
Morgan rose from the couch and put a soft, motherly hand on Nielsen’s shoulder. At her touch, he collected himself and spewed out, in a single breath, “There was a coup, a takeover of the federal government. President Duncan and half of Congress are dead.”
3
Sam pulled up to the Ruiz house in the Dodge, though at first, Jenn hardly recognized the Beaumonts’ truck. Glistening blue solar panels had been attached to the roof. More sprouted from the box, these ones held upright by a metal cage, preserving the cargo space below. The once sleek, aerodynamic Dodge had been transformed into a clunky, awkward monstrosity.
“He really did it,” Nicole said from the curb and pulled off her scarf. “I should’ve known better than to bet against you.”
Jenn took hold of the scarf in triumph. When Sam first mentioned his idea of building a solar-powered truck, the family responded by nearly laughing him out of the room. If it was so easy, Nicole had wondered, why weren’t all cars solar-powered before the bombs? Sam argued there was no point, not with chargers so readily accessible. Now, with the power down, attaching solar panels directly to a vehicle made complete sense. Nicole remained skeptical, but Jenn had a feeling he was onto something, so they agreed on a wager: if Sam could pull it off, Nicole would give Jenn her fuzzy white scarf; if he didn’t, Jenn would surrender the warm, heavy blanket she’d taken from Val’s.
“You shouldn’t underestimate your brother,” Jenn said and wrapped the scarf around her neck. She’d never worn scarves—they were annoying and a little too feminine—but the coming winter promised to be the worst on record, so she would learn to like them. “He’s smarter than he looks.”
“Yes, but he didn’t build it, did he? Ed did most of the work.”
“You’re splitting hairs. Sam said he could get solar panels working on a truck. Doesn’t matter that we didn’t specify how. Contracting out the engineering to Ed was perfectly legitimate.”
Nicole rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
“Don’t worry.” Jenn gave her a friendly shove. “I’ll let you borrow your scarf if I’m not using it.”
“Gee, thanks,” Nicole said, but they both knew the scarf wasn’t really trading hands. Earlier this month, with temperatures beginning to fall, Jenn, Sam, and his family all moved back into the Ruiz house, where the wood-burning fireplace would keep them all warm. With seven people living in such close confines, personal ownership had become a thing of the past. Everything belonged to everyone now. Only survival mattered.
After orienting the Dodge so the solar panels faced south, Sam climbed out and circled around to the bed, where he pulled out a plug and stuck it into the outlet, hoping to catch the last two hours of the day’s sunlight.
“What do you guys think?” he asked them.
“Two out of ten for aesthetics.” Jenn gave him a quick peck, his lips soft against hers, his beard tickling her skin. “If you were going for ugly on purpose, then nine out of ten.”
His eyes narrowed to slits.
“Sorry.” She slapped his butt. Well, she tried—his jacket got in the way. “It looks great. Futuristic. Very twenty-second century.”
He put his hands on his hips and admired his creation. “Thanks. Ed did all the wiring, but I built the frame and attached it to the truck.”
Nicole wrinkled her nose. “Does it work? Like, obviously it works, but with all the smoke in the sky, doesn’t it take forever to charge?”
“How fast it charges is probably a function of how much surface area the solar panels cover,” Jenn said. Sam stared at her as if she’d spoken Greek, so she clarified, “As long as sunlight’s getting through, the solar panels will convert it to electricity, but if you had more, it would charge faster, smoke or not.”
“Right,” he said, understanding now. “This was all we could put on without making it too top-heavy, and you still need to drive pretty slow or it’ll catch the wind. In the middle of the day, we seem to get twenty-five or thirty miles of battery an hour. We obviously plug it in whenever we’re not using it, but this way, when we’re out and about, it’s juicing up.”
When Sam said “we,” he was referring to him and Ed. Since July, they’d been spending more and more time together, first digging new storage pits at the farm and then helping build some of the makeshift wood stoves Flagstaff would so desperately need this winter. And now the solar-powered Dodge. But for both of them, their friendship meant more. Far more. In Ed, Sam had found a father figure. Kevin had been in Sam’s life for longer than his biological dad, yet the two were never close, mostly because they had no common interests. While Kevin was reading business news and monitoring his investments, Sam was tinkering with his Tesla, painting the fence, or cutting the grass. He and Ed, though, shared a love of working with their hands, of building things and fixing them, of “putzing,” as Maria called it. And for Ed, Jenn suspected, Sam had become like a son. She was reminded of what Dylan had told her about Sophie’s failed pregnancy. Briefly, she wondered if Sam saw Sophie as a mother figure. The thought nearly made her laugh out loud.
“Me and Ed are planning to rig up the Nissan later this week.” Sam brushed an orange leaf off the Dodge’s bed rail. “We’ve even got plans to build a mobile charger.”
“Mobile charger?”
“Yeah, on one of Ed’s trailers, so we can haul it around.”
“Smart,” Jenn said. “Where would you get all the equipment for that?”
“Minute Tire, probably. There’s really no reason to keep the place open if all we do is charge vehicles anymore. Makes more sense to just put a charger on wheels.”
“Carter won’t be happy about that.” Jenn led them toward the front door. “He’ll be so bored.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that. Sophie’s got a million jobs for him to do at the farm, and he could help build wood stoves for the city.”
“What about the woodcutting crews?” Nicole asked. Soon after his inauguration as mayor, Gary organized teams to set about felling trees and gathering up the huge quantities of firewood necessary to heat homes and shelters this winter. “They’re always looking for more people.”
“Yeah, that’d be perfect for him.” Jenn imagined the big man wielding an axe in each hand and taking down oak trees with a single swing.
“I think Sophie wants to keep him close,” Sam said. “She doesn’t like sharing her best workers.”
“Makes sense. I don’t blame her.”
Jenn pulled open the door to the Ruiz house. A wall of warm air greeted her as she stepped inside, so she peeled off her jacket and laid it over a nearby chair. Towels covered every window for insulation, and a stack of wood stood below the TV. She and Sam were back in her old bedroom, while Barbara and Kevin had once again moved into the office. Nicole slept on a mattress in the living room. It was cozy near the fireplace, but without electricity to circulate heat, much of the house remained cold. At night, Jenn had to sleep beneath several blankets and wear sweats, socks, and sometimes a beanie.
“So who won the bet?” Maria asked from the kitchen. Instead of her usual housecoat, she wore a scarf and a sweater. Her face was lean, almost gaunt, and every time Jenn gave her a hug, she had to remind herself to be gentle. The potatoes, grains, and corn were all harvested before the first frost, but the sudden drop in temperatures destroyed many of the gardens around town, including Gary’s in the backyard. The cumulative effect on residents’ daily caloric intake was small, but Maria didn’t have much extra weight to lose. Still, she stayed positive, despite the circumstances. Not even an imminent nuclear winter could break her spirit.
Nicole, in exercise pants and knitted socks that c
ame halfway up her shins, groaned in response and plopped herself on the couch.
“I’ll take that as a victory for Jenn, then.” Maria shuffled into the living room and greeted Sam with a kiss on the cheek. To Nicole, she said, “You shouldn’t bet against your brother. He’s actually quite smart.”
Jenn elbowed him in the ribs. “You hear that? Actually smart.”
“Don’t listen to her, Sam,” Maria said. “You know what I mean. I’m happy you got it working.”
“Thanks. Me too.” He took the spot next to his sister and threw his feet up on the coffee table. “Mom’s in the office, I assume?”
Ajax basked in the fire’s warmth. Maria gave him a quick pet with her foot and said, her voice low and heavy with concern, “She is. Think she’ll come out for dinner tonight?”
Lately, Barbara had been sleeping, on average, for eleven or twelve hours a day. When awake, she tended to hide in the office, only rarely venturing out to see the rest of the family.
Nicole tucked her feet beneath her.
“She’ll be all right.” Sam patted her knee. “You said so yourself. This always happens to her in the fall when it starts getting dark sooner.”
“Yeah, but this time she doesn’t have her medication.”
In late June, Nicole smartly began weening Barbara off her antidepressants. That way, when they finally ran out earlier this month, the withdrawal symptoms were minor. Yet depression had clearly taken hold, and Jenn had no idea how anyone could help.
“I’m gonna go talk to her,” Nicole said and pushed herself up. “See if I can get her out for dinner tonight.”
Maria put a soft hand on her wrist. “Good plan, sweetie. Kevin should be home from his walk soon.”
Nicole smiled stiffly and trudged into the office.
“I’m worried about her,” Maria said, the oxygen compressor humming beside her.
“Who?” Jenn fell onto the couch and wrapped Sam’s arm over her shoulder. “Nicole or Barbara?”
“Both. But Nicole, I’m afraid she’s expecting too much from herself.”
Sam curled a strand of Jenn’s hair around his finger. “She’ll be okay. She’s been talking Mom down for years.”
“I hope you’re right.” Maria scooted into the kitchen and returned to peeling a potato. On a nearby platter rested a few patties of cornbread and a couple leaves of kale. The kale didn’t pack much punch in terms of calories, and Jenn hated the taste, but it contained essential amounts of vitamin C, and she had no desire to contract scurvy.
Ajax yawned and stretched. He had another bag of cat food, but Maria strictly rationed it. With the exception of Barbara, everyone in the Ruiz house had agreed to sacrifice a small portion of their protein allotments to help keep Ajax fed. Still, the poor cat was skin and bones, a shadow of his former self, and he refused to eat potatoes or cornbread. Jenn feared he wouldn’t survive the winter. Maybe she could trade for more meat. She must have something she could barter with. Her Glock, possibly, now that she had Espinosa. After all, not much held more value than weapons anymore.
“How was work today?” Sam made his way to the fire. Over his shoulder, he added, “Is ‘work’ even the right word? I’m not sure what to call what you do.”
Jenn laid a blanket across her lap. “Dylan calls it duty shift, but work is fine.”
“Duty shift. Very official.” He opened the airtight door to the fireplace, then poked at the logs with an iron rod until the embers glowed red. “How’s it going with that Teddie guy?”
“You mean Freddie?”
“Yeah, him.”
“He was fine this morning. We were practicing bounding overwatch for the first time.” She sensed a question from Sam, so she preempted it with, “It’s a method of attacking an enemy position. The details aren’t important. He had a rough start, but after a while, he seemed to be getting it.”
Sam grunted and tossed on a fresh log. He and Freddie had met, but only once. Freddie was cordial, if standoffish. At the time, Sam already knew of Freddie’s relation to Chief Morrison and the reasons for him being given a fire team, so their semi-awkward introduction only reinforced his biases. It admittedly reinforced Jenn’s, too, and she still couldn’t help but think of Freddie as arrogant. Then again, he might have just been nervous about meeting his squad leader’s boyfriend.
“All I’m saying is,” Sam said, “if he can’t cut it, he shouldn’t be leading a fire team. I don’t care what shady backroom deal Gary had to make with Morrison.”
“The squad’s only been together for a few weeks, Sam. Today was the first time we’ve actually trained in anything more complicated than guarding a roadblock or walking around as a unit. Deal or not, I think we should give him a chance.”
The log caught flame, so Sam hung up the poker, sealed the door, and returned to the couch. “Maybe he’d be better off joining the woodcutting crews.”
Jenn noted the disdain in his tone, so she said, knowing it would get a rise out of him, “You keep going on about Freddie like this and I might start thinking you’re jealous about me spending all day with him.”
He scowled at her. “I am not jealous. I’m just—”
“I know, I know. You’re worried about me.” She took his hand and held it in her lap beneath the blanket. “It’s cute, but if Freddie becomes a liability, you’ve gotta believe Dylan’ll find a way to kick him out of the squad.”
“Too bad Bryce didn’t join the Militia. He might’ve ended up as your other team leader.”
“I don’t think Sophie would’ve accepted his resignation after me, Yannick, and Dylan all left. He wasn’t interested in it, anyway. When I asked him if he was gonna sign up, he was like, ‘Jansen, I’m not twenty anymore. Soldiering’s a young man’s profession.’ And he’s not wrong. Half of the grunts were students at the uni, so I get it. Plus, he’s in charge up at the farm now.”
“Could’ve been you,” Sam said as the wood in the fire sparked.
“Could’ve been me what? Running the Beaumonts’ security team?”
“Yeah, Ed tells me you were a shoo-in for the job after Dylan left.”
She pulled her hand away from his. What was he getting at? “I was obviously going to volunteer for the Militia, Sam.”
“I’m just saying, it would’ve been a pretty chill gig right now. Hasn’t been a single trespasser all month, and the pay’s better, from what I hear.”
“It’s not about the pay,” she snapped out, her chest instantly tight. “The Militia’s important. You haven’t been out there. You don’t know what it’s like. Grierson? He was nothing compared to the Major. And there’s probably worse than him. We need to defend ourselves, and it drives me nuts how only a hundred people volunteered to help.”
He responded with a toothy grin. No, a toothy smirk.
“What? Why are you smiling? You know I’m right.”
“You’re so gullible,” he said, the smirk widening.
Was he messing with her? The tightness in her chest vanished, but her cheeks burned hot with embarrassment. She crossed her arms and pouted. “You’re such a dink.”
“Oh come on. Quit being such a Jennifer.”
“A Jennifer? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Me and Allison decided when you’re being grumpy or you get on your soapbox, you stop being Jenn and turn into Jennifer. Think of her as your evil, wound-up alter ego.”
Quickly, she uncrossed her arms, though she felt the pouty face remain, despite her best efforts to wash it away. “Don’t you have chores to do or something? Gary’s got some firewood that needs to come in from the garage. Or maybe you can throw some dirt over all the crap at the bottom of the outhouse. It’s starting to stink in there.”
“I can do it later.” A deviousness flashed across his face, and both hands went under the blanket, creeping toward her belly. He began tickling, and she fought to stay still, but a traitorous squeak burst from her throat. Next thing she knew, she was squirming and writhing in his grasp.
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“Sam,” Maria said with mock sternness, “let’s keep it PG in there, shall we?”
After giving Jenn one last squeeze, he laid his hand on her thigh. “Sorry, my bad.”
Her heart raced with excitement. Rarely did she and Sam have private time anymore. Real private time. To be truly alone, they had to visit their old house down the street. It was cold without a fireplace like Gary’s, but they still had a couch and a few blankets. Maybe later, after dinner, they could pretend to go for a walk around the neighborhood and sneak in there instead.
A creaking sound came from the door, interrupting her fantasies. Instinct commanded her arms to reach for Espinosa, which she’d leaned against the side of the couch, but when she saw Gary come through, freshly charged batteries for Maria’s oxygen compressor in hand, she relaxed.
“You’re home!” Maria laid down her knife and rushed into the living room to greet her husband. “I thought you would be working late again tonight.”
Gary set the batteries down on the coffee table and took off his coat, revealing a nearly flat belly. Since April, he’d lost over thirty pounds. His trademark polo shirts now hung off his frame, and the weight loss deepened the wrinkles around his eyes and on his neck. “I decided to send everyone home early today.”
“Well,” Maria said and gave him a kiss, “this is a pleasant surprise. I’ll get another plate ready.”
As she hurried into the kitchen, Gary eased himself into the chair beside the door. His movements were slow and automatic, his gaze distant and vacant, like he was searching for something but couldn’t quite remember what.
“Did you see the solar Dodge, Mr. Ruiz?” Sam asked. “Me and Ed got it working.”
“Yeah,” he said and pulled off a shoe. “Is Barbara here?”
“She’s in her room with Nicole.” A tendril of worry sprouted in Jenn’s stomach. “What’s going on?”
