by Harley Tate
She grabbed a couple boxes of heavy-duty black trash bags, paper plates, and as many paper towels as she could fit in the truck. Then it was on to boxes of granola bars and jerky. As she headed toward checkout a display of protein powder caught her eye. She grabbed a few canisters as a young woman with a baby strapped to her chest stopped next to her.
The woman couldn’t have been older than twenty-five. She reached for a case of formula, but the baby only got in the way.
“Here, I can help.” Tracy pulled the case off the stack and set it in the woman’s cart.
“Thank you. She screams if I put her in the basket.”
Tracy smiled. It had been so long since Madison was that little. She almost didn’t remember what babies were like. “What’s her name?”
“Savannah. We named her after our hometown.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
Tracy turned to go when the woman touched her arm. “Have you heard? About the weather?”
“You mean the CME?”
The woman nodded. “Is it as bad as they say? Are we really going to lose power?”
Tracy looked down at Savannah blowing bubbles and kicking her chubby little legs. She had the pinkest cheeks Tracy had ever seen. “I wish I knew.”
“Me too.” The woman bit her lip and glanced back at the formula. “Could you help me with a few more cases?”
“Of course.” Tracy loaded four more cases into the woman’s cart while the baby just cooed and giggled. “Anything else?”
“No, I think that’s it. Thank you.”
Tracy nodded. “If I were you, I’d get some water, too. And some nonperishable food. Just in case.”
“Right.” The woman looked down at her daughter and back up. “If this ends up being serious, good luck.”
“You, too.” Tracy stood by her flatbed loaded to the gills with so many things. She wanted to tell the young mother to hurry. That she needed so much more than just formula and water. But what if it amounted to nothing?
She grabbed the handle and exhaled. All she could do was prepare for herself and her family. She couldn’t make the whole town do the same.
As she pushed the flatbed toward the checkouts, Tracy looked around her. So many people just going about their business buying supplies for their bakeries and restaurants and entertaining their kids in the early afternoon. No one panicking. No one buying for the end of the world except her and a young mother who only thought of her baby and not herself.
She entered an empty checkout line and the cashier took her membership card with a smile. “Our credit card machine is down. I hope you brought your checkbook.”
Tracy nodded. “I did.”
“Good. Then let’s get you checked out and on your way.”
Tracy watched the cash register display as the cashier scanned in every item. She had never spent this much at a store before. The grocery store bill had been high, but this would wipe out her checking account.
She still needed to withdraw some cash and fill up her gas tank, too. Thankfully, she could write a check and transfer the difference over from savings before it cleared. She hated to dip into their emergency fund, but wasn’t this exactly what it was for? Emergencies.
The cashier announced the total. “That’ll be $1,311.62.”
Tracy almost choked, but she managed to fill out the check and sign it without throwing up. Over a thousand dollars.
She took the receipt with shaky fingers and headed toward the exit. The man at the door took the receipt with a smile. “Stocking up?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Good for you. It’s always good to have some extra on hand.”
Tracy reclaimed the receipt and grunted as she got the flatbed started again. She pushed it to the Suburban and opened up the back.
She struggled to fit everything she bought along with the groceries from her trip to the supermarket, but Tracy managed somehow. As she slid into the driver’s seat, her phone buzzed in her pocket.
Relief flooded her veins. The phones were working again. It had to be either her daughter or Walter. She pulled out the phone and frowned.
Emergency Presidential Alert.
Severe Space Weather Warning in this area until 08:00 AM PST. Take Shelter Now. Dusk to Dawn Curfew in Effect.
What? Oh, no. Tracy’s heart sank. It’s true.
As she sat there in shock, another text came in. This time from her daughter.
I’m on the way home. Stay safe. I’ll be there soon.
Tracy couldn’t wait another second. She tossed her phone on the passenger seat and put the car in reverse. I need to hurry.
Chapter Eight
TRACY
Sacramento, CA
5:30 p.m.
The highway hadn’t moved a foot in more than twenty minutes. In the time it had taken Tracy to drive to the closest on-ramp and merge into traffic, everyone else in the entire city must have decided to do the same thing.
Cars and trucks and tractor trailers clogged all three lanes in both directions, bumpers almost touching. Hordes of people sat in their vehicles watching the afternoon sun set through grimy windows. Everyone was going nowhere fast.
It was a powder keg of inactivity. One spark, one raised voice or fender bump, and the whole place would blow. Tracy checked the locks on the Suburban for the hundredth time. The weight of the supplies behind her bore down on her mind like a pile of bricks, hard and unyielding.
If anyone saw what she had… If anyone tried to take it…
A commotion a few cars up snapped her out of her spiraling thoughts. A man slammed the door to his little hatchback and glowered at the pickup behind him. Shouts filtered through the pileup, but Tracy couldn’t make out the words.
When the man in the truck stuck his hand out the window, the meaning of his gesture was plain even without the words to go with it. The guy standing in the road didn’t appreciate it. He bellowed as he gesticulated, face coloring to match the setting sun.
Had the truck hit his car? Tracy couldn’t believe it. Why did some people lose their cool in traffic? It’s not like freaking out would get them anything.
A loud pop sounded and Tracy jumped in her seat, slamming her knee into the steering wheel. What the…? It sounded like… It couldn’t be.
Tracy watched in growing disbelief as the door to the pickup truck opened, a puny squeak in comparison to the gunshot the man inside had fired up into the air. He held the handgun up high and pointed the barrel toward the sky. A warning shot.
As he clambered out of the truck, he changed position, aiming straight for Mr. Hatchback’s chest. Back down. Just back down. She waited with bated breath. The man stood his ground, planting his feet a bit wider in the asphalt as he crossed his arms over his chest. Oh, no.
Tracy glanced in her rear view. She had a foot between her bumper and the car behind her. She checked the side of the road. A quarter-mile of dirt and weeds before the exit ramp opened up.
More shouts drew Tracy’s attention back to the scene in front. A handful of people had gotten out of their cars and approached the two men. Were they there to talk the pair down or amp them up? Tracy never understood why people crowded around a fight to watch. Shouldn’t they be trying to stop it?
Mr. Pickup fired the gun again, this time at Mr. Hatchback’s feet. One of the onlookers jumped back. The bullet had ricocheted past him and into the side of the closest car. This was insane. Someone was going to get killed and what would happen then? A riot? Worse?
Sweat beaded at the edges of Tracy’s hairline and her palms grew clammy. She couldn’t wait another minute. Sitting there in traffic with a mountain of food and drinks and supplies made her a lucrative target. If a mob formed, she’d never survive.
With one hand on the gear shift, Tracy put the Suburban in reverse. She eased her foot off the brake, ready to inch backward when a tapping on her driver’s side window made her jerk.
“Excuse me! Do you have any spare gas?�
�� A woman stood too close to her window, peering into the back. Her hair was pulled back in a haphazard ponytail and the sallow, sunken pits of her cheeks spoke of years of drug or alcohol abuse. Maybe both.
The stranger pointed a dirt-caked finger at a rusted a VW beetle with a cracked back window. “We’re on fumes. Can you help us out?”
When did my throat get so dry? Tracy smacked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, trying to manufacture some spit. “I-I’m s-sorry. I don’t have any gas.”
“You got a whole lotta other shit, though, dontcha?” Tracy whipped her head around as a shiver of fear twitched her fingers.
A man stood on the other side of her car, face pressed to the glass, hands blocking out the sun so he could see inside. “Woo-wee. What’s that, six cases of water?” He pulled back and shouted over the roof of the car. “You see that Becky? She’s got enough food in there to feed this whole damn traffic jam.”
The man swayed as he stood, the wispy bits of his dishwater hair falling in his face. He couldn’t have weighed more than Tracy despite his height. He picked at a graying tooth as he motioned toward the back seat, a gaping hole in his mouth where a canine should be. “You wanna be nice and open up? We’ll only take a little. Ain’t that right, baby?”
When did the car get so hot? Tracy couldn’t breathe. Her chest rose and fell but the air seared her lungs like smoke. How many people were on her already? How many were out there, listening to the pair of them rant about all her supposed riches? The back end of her SUV dipped and Tracy snapped her gaze to the rear view. A pair of dirty jeans was all she could see. Someone was standing on her rear bumper.
Oh my God.
She tried to swallow, but her sandpaper tongue scraped across the roof of her mouth. “G-Get off my car!”
“Oooh. She wants you to get down, Dwayne. Guess you better listen to the little lady.”
The Suburban bobbed up and down. Dwayne was jumping.
Tracy glanced around her, squinting into the neighboring cars. Someone would help her, wouldn’t they? They wouldn’t just leave her like this.
A door to the car in front of her opened and Tracy sucked in a breath. Thank you so much. She smiled at the man as he turned to face her, but the corners of her mouth fell as he eyed her. There was no sympathy on his pinched face.
He pointed at the back of her SUV. “I’ve been out here two hours. I’m hot, my wife is thirsty. If you’ve got supplies. Let’s see them.”
No. Nonononono. This can’t be happening.
It had only been a few hours. They were only stuck in traffic. People shouldn’t be doing this. It isn’t right.
“Please, just leave me alone.” Tracy’s gaze darted between Becky on her left, the boyfriend on the right, the new guy in front of her, and her rear view, where she could barely make out Dwayne as he tested the strength of her tow hitch.
They weren’t going to leave her alone. Tracy inhaled, shoving a breath full of heat and courage down into her lungs. Now or never. She wasn’t going to be a casualty of a traffic jam and fear. Not today.
She shifted the Suburban into reverse. The boyfriend’s head snapped up and she focused on him, glowering in defiance as she punched the gas. The Suburban lurched backward and Dwayne cried out as he fell onto the hood of the car behind her.
Tracy didn’t look and she didn’t stop. She shoved the gear shift into drive and hit the accelerator again.
Everyone in front and beside her jumped back. Becky screamed something about Dwayne’s leg, but Tracy tuned it out. She’d made her choice. Now all she could do was get the heck out of there and hope no one followed her.
The Suburban bounced over the rumble strip and fishtailed as she accelerated into the grass. In seconds it was over; the horror of the traffic jam nothing more than dust in her rear view. It wasn’t enough. She wouldn’t ever be far enough away. Tracy gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white, holding onto the faded leather like it was her sanity.
Please let me make it off the highway. Please.
Bouncing and bumping down the shoulder, Tracy veered into the exit lane and off the ramp, finally braving a glance behind her. So far, no one was following her. But she couldn’t let her guard down. They could still come for her. She had to put enough distance between her and the exit that no one could find her.
Ten minutes later, she finally took a deep breath. She cracked the window and fresh air hit her in the face. I did it. I got away.
She blinked her surroundings into focus. For the past few minutes, all Tracy did was drive. She needed miles between her and the highway. With another breath, she slowed to a stop, peering up at the street signs above her as the light turned red.
Not having a typical nine-to-five job, Tracy never needed to use the back roads. The highway was never busy when she needed to cross town. She hadn’t been in this area in years.
She tapped on the navigation system of the SUV and waited for it to place her car on the map. She tapped it again. Nothing happened.
Great.
Now she could add getting lost to the list of good ideas she’d had since leaving work that afternoon.
Think, Tracy, think. She needed to head west. She could do that. As long as she pointed her car at the afternoon sun, she’d make it to a road she recognized. Eventually.
After twenty minutes that felt like twenty years, the area began to look familiar. Tracy snorted as it dawned on her.
She was back where she started, only a few blocks from the library. She turned onto the main road, slowing down to drive by the closed library building when a figure standing at the bus stop caught her eye.
Is that? It can’t be. She slowed further, creeping up to the woman as she rolled down the passenger window. “Wanda? Is that you?”
The head librarian squinted as she peered into the car. “Tracy? What are you doing here?”
“The highway’s a mess. I ran to Costco and got stuck. How about you? I thought you’d have left hours ago.”
Wanda pushed up her glasses. “I stayed a little late to tidy up. I was just leaving when that strange alert came in. Did you see it?”
Tracy nodded. “What about the bus?”
Wanda gave a faltering smile. “It hasn’t shown up.”
Tracy bit her lip and glanced at the back of her car. She couldn’t leave Wanda there on the side of the road. She wasn’t like those bullies on the highway. She was a good person. Tracy could trust her.
She smiled and unlocked the car. “How about you hop in? I don’t think we can get across town to your place with the traffic and the curfew, but you’re welcome to stay with me tonight. I can drive you home tomorrow.”
Wanda opened her mouth, but shut it without saying a word. Her simple cotton dress blew in the breeze. After a moment of staring at her watch and then the empty street, she turned back to Tracy. “Why are you doing this?”
“What do you mean?”
“Helping me.”
Tracy blinked. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”
Wanda pursed her lips. “All right. I’ll come.” She tugged open the door to Tracy’s SUV and climbed inside, pausing as the back full of everything from protein bars to toilet paper came into view. “Wow. When you do Costco, you really do Costco.”
Tracy let a laugh slip from her lips. “You know what the Girl Scouts say.”
Wanda cocked her head. “No, what?”
“Be prepared.” Tracy put the car in drive and pulled back onto the road. “Come on, let’s go home.”
This time, she hoped the drive would be uneventful, but with the Presidential Alert and the incident from the highway fresh in her mind, Tracy knew it couldn’t be that easy.
She thought of her daughter and her text, I’m coming. A nugget of fear lodged itself in Tracy’s heart.
Chapter Nine
MADISON
Yolo Causeway
6:30 p.m.
“We haven’t moved in three hours. I vote we ditch the car and walk.�
��
Madison’s head jerked up out of the half-doze she’d fallen into. They were still stuck on the causeway, the stretch of elevated highway between Davis and West Sacramento. It was the only direct way into Sacramento and the fastest way to reach Madison’s house. Ordinarily, anyway.
She sat up in her seat and wiped at her eyes. “Tucker, you can’t be serious. We’re still thirty miles from my parents’ house and over a hundred from Brianna’s cabin. Her place is north of Truckee. You want to walk all that way?”
Tucker motioned at the windshield. “It beats this, doesn’t it?” He glanced at the clock and shook his head. “It’s getting dark. The CME could be here soon. We need to get off the road and get somewhere safe.”
“I thought you said eighteen hours.”
He scratched his head. “It could be less. We don’t really know.”
Madison exhaled. “Try the radio again, Brianna.”
Her roommate reached for the dial and turned it to the right. The same three beeps they had all heard since they could remember filled the car. “This is an alert. Severe weather may impact your area soon. Take shelter now. Dusk to dawn curfew in effect. This is an alert.”
Brianna turned off the radio and pounded the steering wheel with her fists, blonde curls breaking free from her ponytail as she freaked out in the driver’s seat. After a moment, she spoke, determination punching every word. “This is ridiculous. We need to get off the causeway, onto a side street, and make our way to Madison’s place. We can sleep there tonight and hit the road first thing in the morning.”
Peyton craned his neck to look at the sky. “We might not have the chance. Do you see that?”
“What?” Madison leaned over to find what Peyton pointed at. From her vantage point, it looked like the sunset was tinted green.
“Crap. We’re too late.”
Everyone in the car turned to Tucker. “What do you mean, too late?”
“What you’re seeing? That’s the northern lights.”