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 traveled under the overpass, a few fires already lit beneath the massive structure with groups of people hunkered down around the flames. I moved behind Emily and Charlie, prepared to pull my weapon out should someone approach us, but no one did. I smelled the roasting scent of meat and saw a few of the people lift their heads and watch us as we moved past, likely ready to defend their food should they need to.
“What are they cooking?” Emily asked quietly, turning her head and barely moving her lips. “There are no woods around here.”
“Probably rats.” Maybe other more domesticated animals too, though I didn’t say that, and I refused to think too much about it. All I knew was that it’d been six days since the power went out in what I now knew was a multistate outage, if not the entirety of the United States, and desperation was setting in everywhere, some locations more than others. And for those who had been vagrant or homeless even before this started? Maybe they had a leg up, or maybe they had it worse than anyone.
Charlie made a gagging sound, and we stepped out from the dimness under the overpass out into the light of the setting sun.
We walked past a large warehouse, and then a few dark businesses, the roads that led into this city growing more congested with abandoned vehicles the farther we traveled. I saw a gas station several blocks up ahead and gestured to Charlie and Emily to follow me in that direction where I might find another map to replace the one Isaac had stolen.
The buildings were closer together here—we passed a printing company and a taco shop, an insurance agency, and a photography studio.
When we got to the gas station, we found it completely looted. We stepped among the wreckage of overturned shelves and broken glass, not so much as a pack of peanuts in sight. And if any maps had been here at some point, there weren’t any now.
“Great,” Charlie hissed. “Not a damn thing here. And I still have no fucking shoes!”
We stepped out of the store, the sky deep orange streaked with blue, and growing dimmer by the moment.
The sound of an engine caught me by surprise, and I looked up the street to see a vehicle just turning the corner and heading toward us. “Tuck!” Emily breathed. “A truck.”
“Come on,” I said, and ducked as I ran along the side of the gas station, going low along the fence and then stopping. I looked around the corner to see an old-fashioned truck that looked like it had once hauled produce or something trundling toward us, a fabric cover obscuring the bed and featuring an extra-wide back bumper. There were two broad-shouldered men in the front, staring ahead resolutely, and call it a gut instinct, but I didn’t think this truck would stop for a couple of hitchhikers. But it was heading in the direction we needed to go. I turned toward Emily and Charlie, who were behind me. “Follow me.”
The truck drove slowly past us and then I came from behind the fence, hunching low as I ran behind it. Reaching up, I easily grabbed onto a bar and pulled myself onto the bumper. I moved over as Emily and Charlie came up next to me and did the same thing I’d done. Thankfully the truck was heavy enough that our weight didn’t seem to rock it too much, and we simply hung on, squatted down as we watched the hollowed-out industrial section of town go by. Then we turned onto a long stretch of dark road, the truck avoiding stopped cars, its large tires easily carrying us through the weedy overgrowth on the side of the road.
What sounded like a window being cranked down met my ears, and then I smelled cigarette smoke. I thought I heard the crackly noise of static from the front as though the driver was changing the radio stations, perhaps searching for one that worked, but after a moment, the window was rolled up again and I could no longer hear the sound.
We traveled for about half an hour, moving between a squat and a kneel so as not to tire our legs, and I came to enjoy the lull of the engine, and the gentle rocking of the truck, taking the small break to try to remember the order of states we’d need to pass through to get home. We had the remainder of Kansas, and then we’d head to New Mexico, Arizona, and finally to California.
“Oh my God,” I heard Emily whisper and when I looked at her, I saw that she was peeking under the canvas flap. She turned toward me, eyes wide as she pulled the flap open so I could see inside.