Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
We’d walked on the outskirts of what looked like quaint towns, past people who waved, their faces filled with worry as we waved back and moved on by. Just like the other states we’d been in, broken-down cars sat in the roads, the occasional older vehicle rolling past. No one bothered us here, and we didn’t attempt to talk to anyone, though we might have to eventually as Hosea had only been able to provide us a ride and a day’s worth of food. We both understood—their mission was to help as many vulnerable people as possible, and Tuck was capable.
Thankfully, the weather was mild, so much so that at one point I took off my jacket and tied it around my waist. “Do you think this weather has to do with the solar flares?”
“Maybe. It’s obviously affected the sky and so it’s possible it affected the weather. But I’m also not well-versed in a typical Kansas winter.”
I squinted into the sky he’d just mentioned, purple clouds floating over a lavender background. “Tuck… Hosea mentioned several solar flares hitting over the course of a day. Do you think that means they hit different parts of the world? Could this be a worldwide disaster?” Might other nations come to our rescue? Or is the whole planet dark?
“It could be. But all we can do right now is focus on getting home. It’s the best way to survive. And then we hope more information trickles in from there. Once we’re safe.”
Safe. Was there even such a thing anymore? The beauty and quiet around me made me believe—for the moment at least—that there were still safe places where good people existed. “Hosea said things would get fixed eventually.”
Tuck was silent again as though deciding how to answer. Finally, he said, “It will take at least several years.”
I stopped, gaping at him. “Years?”
“At least.”
He turned and started walking again, and I took up beside him, my legs like Jell-O. My head swam as a barrage of specifics wound through my mind. What would things look like after years with no power?
“What will people do for money?”
“They’ll have to trade things of value.”
Things of value. That phrase inspired a whole slew of unsettling half thoughts. What did I have of value now? My ribs felt hollow as I considered Tuck in my peripheral vision. He could work anywhere for the things that were now important—food, water, shelter…safety. He could come back to Topeka and find Hosea. His options would be limitless.
We need people with special skills.
It was me who would have no way to earn a living anymore. No one was going to trade me something precious for my voice, not when they were trying to survive. Birdsong was worth as much as my singing. I felt dizzy. Some of this had already occurred to me, and I’d begun to accept that my career would be put on hold. But I’d never imagined that on hold meant years. Would it even be salvageable by then? Who could even say?
I started humming again to shut out the unanswerable questions zipping through my mind, our feet hitting the pavement, providing a soothing cadence, my breath coming easier after a while.
Day Eight
We camped that night, so exhausted I was half-asleep before my body hit my sleeping bag, and the next day we started out again at daybreak, the Oklahoma sunrise coloring the plains in silvery-white light.
After a few miles, we saw a farmhouse in the distance, and Tuck came to a slow stop as he turned to shield his eyes from the glare and look at the property. I stopped too, and it took me a moment to pull myself from the semitrance I’d been in as I walked, focusing on the slap of my shoes on the road rather than the emptiness in my stomach and my growing thirst.
“It looks like a small farm,” I said. “If we can sneak into the henhouse, would they even miss a couple of eggs?”
Tuck thinned his lips. He didn’t like the idea of stealing, I could tell. But I also knew that he’d put survival above egg theft. Especially as eggs could be replaced for those who owned chickens.
“There might be a creek on their land or some other water source,” Tuck said. “We could fill up our water bottles.”
I gave a nod. We’d been refilling our bottles wherever we could when they ran out and then boiling the water before drinking it. But we’d finished the last of our water earlier and would need to find some soon.
Tuck turned toward the dirt road that led to the house a good quarter mile off the road and I followed.
“Let’s go through those trees so we can get a better view of the house before we just walk up on it,” Tuck said, and then without waiting for me to answer, began moving in the direction of the evergreens. The copse of trees wasn’t very thick and so it didn’t take long to make it to the edge of the tree line.