“It’ll take longer,” said Jim. “But given what we’ve encountered so far, I don’t think we’re going to make it through much more fighting. We need go for the stealth route as much as possible.”
“That’s what we were thinking.”
Jim looked at his watch. The globs of luminescent material were glowing ever so slightly. He wouldn’t have been able to read the time without them.
It was eight o’clock. Evening, judging by the low light.
“Looks like I woke up just in time. We’ll just have to gather up supplies. Everything we can get.”
“Already did it,” said Jessica. “Rob did a lot of the work. He’d come in here for little stretches of time to work on it, before heading back outside. And I helped a little.”
“Sounds like Rob’s been working himself to the bone.”
Jessica chuckled slightly. It was then that Jim noticed her eye. It was swollen, a little bloody. Didn’t seem to want to open up all the way, as if she was squinting.
“What happened to your eye?”
“Long story. How’d you manage to survive here, with all those bikers?”
“Long story.”
Jim had a feeling they’d leave it just at that. There wasn’t much point in talking about it all, unless they could share tips that might help them survive similar encounters in the future.
“I’ll wake up, Aly,” said Jim. “Tell Rob we’ll be ready to leave in twenty minutes.”
She gave him a stiff nod and turned on her heel, heading back outside.
Jim hoped that Rob could make it tonight on the hike. But he wasn’t too worried. He’d known Rob long enough to know that, despite whatever problems he’d had, he was tough deep down. As tough as any of them, and apparently only getting tougher.
Jim sat there in the semidarkness that was only getting darker, enjoying the sensation of his wife leaning up against him. She was snoring ever so slightly, as she always had.
Jim chuckled to himself as he thought of how Aly didn’t even know she snored. He’d never told her, and on the rare occasions when she’d spent the night at a girlfriend’s house, she’d vigorously deny any suggestion that she might have snored during the night. She’d often come home after times like that and angrily explain to Jim how so-and-so had said she’d snored, and Jim had somehow always managed to keep a straight face during all these mini tirades.
It was a good memory, or pastiche of memories. Times before the EMP. When his worries had seemed potent and serious, but now, in retrospect, seemed like mere child’s play. So his business hadn’t been doing that well. So what?
He’d kill to get back to those times. And so would many others.
But they wouldn’t come back.
This was it now. Whether they liked it or not.
In mere moments, Jim knew that he’d have to gently nudge Aly awake, and then they’d have to snap to it, getting to work gathering up the last-minute supplies, checking to make sure they had what they needed, not to mention discussing and planning the route that they’d take south.
He knew that there were hours and hours of hard walking ahead. They’d be loaded down with supplies. They’d be walking through the darkness. They’d have to be on high alert for anything nearby.
It’d be tough going. Not just tonight, but every night from here on out.
This was a brief moment of peace and tranquility. He wouldn’t have many of them.
After so much sleep, his mind, for the first time in a long while, felt clear. For so many days now, it had felt like he was living almost in a fog, with his thoughts and memories jumbled together. He hadn’t been thinking straight for most of the time, but he hadn’t even realized it.
With a clear head, he thought of the future. If they made it down to a peaceful area in the woods, away from everyone else, what would their lives look like?
Probably very much like their lives looked like now. Jim longed for safety and tranquility, for a regular and peaceful life. But it didn’t matter what he longed for or convinced himself of.
In this post-EMP world, there were no happy endings. Life would continue with or without Jim, and it would continue to be backbreakingly difficult, no matter what.
What mattered wasn’t so much whether they got to a place or a point where they felt a brief moment of respite from the violence. Those moments were just illusory, and Jim knew that. What mattered more was their collective and individual attitudes, and their ability to simply persevere no matter how tough it all got.
Jim was confident he had it. And that the others did too.
Maybe they’d make it after all.
Final Dread: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller (Surviving Book 3) Page 16