by P. A. Glaspy
300 Miles
Book 1 in the Perilous Miles Series
P.A. Glaspy
Copyright 2018
All Rights Reserved
P.A. Glaspy
1st Edition
No part of this work may be reproduced in any form, except to quote in reviews or in the press, without the express permission of the author. Any unauthorized reproduction of this work is illegal and punishable by law.
This is a work of fiction. Any parallel to persons alive or dead is purely coincidental and is not intended by the author.
Published by Glaspy Publishing Inc
Other works by P.A. Glaspy
A Powerless World Series
Before the Power was Gone
When the Power is Gone
When the Peace is Gone
When the Pain is Gone
Chapter 1
Sunday, December 13th
"Boys, I'm home! Are you guys ready to go? We are so, so late." Carly rushed in the door, dropped her purse and briefcase on the dining room table, and headed for her bedroom. She kicked her pumps off into the corner as she was unzipping her skirt. She threw on a T-shirt, a pair of stretchy jeans, and flip flops. Ah, much better, she thought as she hurried back the way she had come, pulling her curly brunette hair into a ponytail.
"Coming, Mom!" she heard from the second floor. A moment later, her two teenage sons came thundering down the stairs where she stood waiting at the bottom, purse and keys in hand. One of them a head taller than her already, the other gaining on his older brother, they skidded to a halt in front of her, grinning.
"Let's go, I'm starving! Grandma said she was making lasagna this time. What took you so long, Mom? It's bad enough you had to work on Sunday, but geez, you were gone all day!" Aaron, at seventeen, was a handsome, sandy-haired young man who was already six feet tall. He was the spitting image of his dad, but that's where the similarity ended. And he was always hungry. Actually, that was true for both of her growing sons. Cameron was fifteen and looked like her brother, Will. They could go through a hundred dollars' worth of groceries in just a few days. She was constantly stopping at the grocery store on the way home from work for the makings of something for supper or whatever they had texted her they were now out of because the human food disposals that were her children had just eaten the last of whatever it was.
"Sorry, honey, but we're trying to get everything set up in the new accounting system before tax time, plus one of our biggest clients requested a meeting today. You're lucky I got out when I did. I basically told Marcus that either he let me leave to have our regularly scheduled Sunday family dinner or I would quit. He actually hesitated before he told me I could go ahead and go. He can be a dick sometimes."
The boys snickered, and Carly grinned at them. Cameron, her younger son, took on a serious look. "Do you kiss your momma with that mouth?" Aaron guffawed when Carly gave her smart-aleck son the stink eye.
"Watch it, wise guy, unless you want to walk to your grandparents' house. Now, get your butts in the car. Pops will be calling any minute. You know how he hates to eat late."
As if on cue, Carly's cell phone rang. She looked at the screen, then turned it around so the boys could see "Dad" displayed on the caller ID. She tapped the screen as she headed for the kitchen door leading to the garage. "Hi, Dad. We're on our way. Tell Mom she can pull the pan out of the oven."
~~~~~
After dinner, Carly helped her mother with the dishes while the boys watched football with their grandfather. They looked at each other and grinned at the sound of three voices raised in indignation at a supposed bad call. Looking toward the living room where the chorus came from, Carly could see the lights of her parents' Christmas tree reflecting off the ceiling. The multi-colored display reminded her that she had less than two weeks to get her own tree decorated, finish her shopping, and wrap presents. Make that start and finish the shopping. She hadn't gotten to it yet. She had been slammed at work trying to get the system updated before the first of the year. Thankfully, her mother would do all the cooking, so she just had to buy and wrap presents. Her boys had put the tree up for her just the day before, but she liked to do the decorating herself. One more thing to get done. She was so deep in her thoughts at what she still needed to do to prepare for the upcoming holiday, it took her a moment to realize her mother was speaking to her.
"I'm sorry, Mom. What did you say?"
"I said I got the boys new shirts, socks, and jeans, and some gift cards for their iPods. Oh, and I got them each a new winter jacket. Hard to believe it's December when it's almost seventy degrees outside, but Old Man Winter will show up sooner or later. Is there anything else they want or need?"
"No, Mom, that's more than enough. You always go overboard on them; for that matter, on all of us. You shouldn't spend so much."
She dismissed her daughter's comment with a wave of her hand. "Your father and I live quite comfortably on our pensions. Our house is paid for. We don't go anywhere. We don't need anything. We have two kids and two grandkids. What else would we spend it on?"
Carly smiled and shook her head at the woman who had raised her daughter and son to be strong adults, and provided a warm, loving yet disciplined home to them growing up. The gray was becoming more abundant in her hair and the laugh lines more prominent at her eyes. She was thicker at the waist than twenty years ago, and a bad knee kept her from moving as quickly these days; yet she could still work circles around Carly, or so Carly thought anyway.
"Fine, Mom. Whatever makes you happy. Speaking of your kids, is Will coming home for Christmas?"
Her mother's brow furrowed. "I don't know yet. Your brother won't commit, says his work is crazy, they have shows all the way up to the twenty-third, and he probably won't know until the last minute whether he'll be home Christmas Day. Seriously, who goes to a dinner show in Pigeon Forge that close to Christmas?"
"Not everyone has family to spend the holidays with, Mom. There are people who actually go out to eat on Christmas Day. Lots of folks these days don't even celebrate the holidays. When I think about that, it makes me sad for them, and so very glad we do. Do you want me to invite Elliott for Christmas dinner? I'm sure he'll eat canned tuna or something if we don't."
Her mother smiled at her. "Already done. He tried to turn me down, but you know I don't take no for an answer when I want something. He'll be here. He's the boys' grandfather. He's part of our family."
"Why am I not surprised? Thanks, Mom." Carly leaned over and kissed her mother on the cheek. "Let's finish this up so we can see who's winning the game."
Her mother raised a sculpted eyebrow at her. "Do we care?"
~~~~~
Carly Marshall was an almost perfect example of a twenty-first century single mom. She lived in Bartlett, a suburb of Memphis, with her teenage sons, Aaron and Cameron. Their father, Ethan, had left them when the boys were in grade school, and it had been only the three of them for almost ten years. She had a good job as a CPA with a private accounting firm and had been there for six years. She had never remarried, hadn't even dated anyone seriously, instead focused solely on her boys and raising them in a way that they would become productive members of society–good men who understood that good things come to those who work for them.
Her parents, Joel and Lauri Chambers, were very close to Carly and her sons. Joel was a retired mechanical engineer and Lauri was a former high school teacher, also retired. They had very nice pensions which were deposited electronically to their bank each month, half to their checking account and half to a money market account they had had for thirty years. Due to their modest lifestyle, the money market account had over two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in it. When Carly asked them what they were saving it for, her dad replied, "You never know wh
en someone might need some help."
Joel and Lauri had kept the boys two nights a week for over a year while Carly got her CPA. They lived just a couple of miles from Carly, right at the edge of town. They had a mini-farm of sorts, with an acre of land. They had a nice-sized garden that kept them all in fresh veggies all summer long, as well as lots of stuff put up in the freezer for the winter. They also kept chickens for the fresh eggs. The family still had dinner together every Sunday afternoon. Her brother, Will, played bass guitar for a band called Country Forever, and they had a long-term gig at a dinner club in Pigeon Forge. The seven-hour drive back meant he didn't get home much, but he always tried to make it for Thanksgiving or Christmas. He hadn't made it for Thanksgiving that year.
While Ethan had disappeared without so much as a "kiss my ass", his dad, Elliott Marshall, made every effort to stay in his grandsons' lives. The boys spent one weekend a month with him, as well as at least two weeks during the summer, on his farm in Tipton County, the next county just north of them. Growing up deep in the Appalachian Mountains, he had known little of modern conveniences, so he had a wealth of knowledge on how to rough it which he was trying to pass on to the boys. Elliott had taught them how to hunt and fish, as well as some basic survival skills. They could start a fire with twigs and string; construct a primitive shelter; and find food from a variety of sources, including wild edible plants. Elliott had ten acres of land, half of it cleared, with a barn, a couple of sheds, and a three-bedroom cabin he'd built himself years ago. His water came from a well with an electric pump, but there was also a hand pump attached–just in case.
"Just in case of what, Pap?" Cameron had asked when his grandfather showed them how the pitcher pump worked when they were younger.
"In case there's no power."
"Why wouldn't there be power? Oh, you mean like if you forget to pay your electric bill, or something like that, right? You can just go down and pay it at the office, Pap. They'll turn it back on for you." Cameron continued to pump the handle, amazed at the fact that he was actually pulling the water from the ground himself, with his own hands, no faucet involved.
Elliott was shaking his head at his grandson. "No, Cam, I'm talking about if something happened to everybody's power. We'd need to be able to get to the water just like you're doing now if the power was off for a long time–days, weeks, even months. You can't live much past three days without water, son."
Aaron, who had been standing with them through all this, looked at his grandfather like he might be ill. "That's crazy talk, Pap. The power would never be off for months. The longest it's ever been off was a couple of hours. It was so boring, I went and took a nap. When I woke up, it was back on. Even then, the water still worked. I don't think you should be worrying about stuff like that."
Elliott smiled at his grandson, who looked so much like his dad. "Except this water comes from a well that needs electricity to pump it. You never know if or when something might happen, Aaron. There's crazy people all over the world, and some of them have their finger on nukes. We could be attacked. Or what about an earthquake? We're way past due for one. If it hit just right, we could be cut off from the rest of the country with no help able to get to us. Without water, we'd die."
Cameron looked at his grandfather wide-eyed. "But we might not be able to get here either, Pap. What would happen to us? We don't have a well at our house."
Elliott replied, "I'd get you here, Cam. Don't you doubt that for one second. If I had to walk every step of the way, I'd get to you."
Cameron smiled at his grandfather as Aaron laid a hand on the older man's shoulder. "Not to worry, Pap. Nothing like that is going to happen. This is probably the most use that hand pump will ever get."
Elliott looked into the younger version of his son Ethan's eyes. "I hope you're right, son. I really do."
~~~~~
When they got back home after Sunday dinner, leftovers foisted on them by Lauri ("We'll never eat all this, take it home with you") as she did every time, the boys went upstairs to play online while Carly sat down at the dining room table with her cell phone. She kept her lists there, like groceries and to do items, because she always had her phone with her. No making a list and leaving it at the house for her. She connected her Bluetooth keyboard to it and set about making a new list–things that must be done before Christmas. She gazed into the living room at the bare tree, tapped the microphone on her screen, and said out loud, "Decorate the tree." Her smartphone created the line of text, and got it right. Sometimes her Southern accent confused the smart part of the phone and she had to correct it from the keyboard. So far, so good.
She continued. "Buy presents for family." Her phone returned by instead of buy. She fixed it with the keyboard. "Yeah, not that smart," she mumbled as she typed. Her next entry was, "Call Will." The phone handled that one just fine. She intended to call her brother to guilt him into coming home for the holiday. Just then, her phone buzzed and vibrated. She looked at the screen. "Well, speak of the devil," she said aloud, seeing her brother's name on the caller ID. She swiped the screen and replied, "You know, little brother, I've said more than once that I think you're psychic. I just this second made a note to call you. How's everything going up there in Dollyland?"
Will laughed on the other end of the line. "You may be right about that voodoo business, sis. You know sometimes I get these ... I don't know, feelings, premonitions, something. That's one of the reasons I called."
Carly was still thinking about the things she needed to do before the holiday and the end of the year. She half-heartedly replied, "Oh, do tell. Do you see a tall, dark, handsome, rich guy in my future?" Carly laughed. "Seriously, I hope you see yourself coming home for Christmas. Mom is worried you won't be here."
She heard Will sigh over the line. "That woman makes it damn hard to surprise her. Yes, I'll be there. In fact, I'll be home next weekend through the end of the year. The guys are all wiped, me included, and want some serious down time. A couple of weeks at home should be just the ticket. You think that will make her happy?"
Carly squealed. "Oh, Will! Yes, that will make her, Dad, the boys, even me happy! I can't wait!"
At her raised voice, Aaron and Cameron came running down the stairs. "Mom–are you okay? What's going on?" Aaron was looking around the room for anything out of place.
She laughed. "I'm fine, honey. I'm talking to Uncle Will. He's coming home next weekend and staying until New Year's. Say hello." She tapped the button that put the phone in speaker mode.
Both boys chimed in, "Hey, Uncle Will!" Then Cameron added, "You still all about that bass?" Aaron fell on the floor laughing. Carly rolled her eyes.
Will snickered on the other end. "That one never gets old, Cam Man. And, yes, I am. No treble." They could almost hear the lecherous grin over the phone. Cameron held his hand up for his brother to slap. Aaron didn't disappoint.
Then Aaron said, "Bring your b-ball shoes, Unc. You haven't seen me in a year. I think I can take you now. Six feet tall and counting."
"Yes, your mom has told me that you almost have to duck to come into the house now. I'm pretty sure I can still whip your butt though."
Aaron grinned. "We'll see. Gotta go. Grandma's leftover lasagna is calling my name. Later, Uncle Will. See ya next week."
Will groaned. "That's downright cruel. You know how long it's been since I had any of her lasagna?"
Aaron called back over his shoulder. "Duh. At least a year. Why do you think I told you about it?"
As Carly picked the phone up to take it off speaker, Will got out, "Oh, you are so going down, buddy! No mercy!"
The boys laughed on their way to the kitchen. Carly shook her head and put the phone back to her ear. "I swear, sometimes you act the same age as them. But, I'm really glad you're coming home soon, and for longer than overnight this time."
Will got quiet on the other end. "Sis, I'm the one who pushed for the time off. Something is nagging at me, telling me I need to get home. I wish I could h
ead out right now; it's that strong."
Carly sat up straighter. "Then do it, Will. Just come home now. I learned a long time ago to trust your hunches. Screw the gig. Get in the car and go."
"Yeah, but I've had as many bad hunches as good ones. Nah, I'm sure it's nothing, or it can at least wait one more week. I'll head out first thing Sunday morning. I should be there for Sunday dinner. Don't tell Mom and Dad. I want to surprise them."
Carly couldn't hide the concern in her voice. "Okay, but if the feeling gets any stronger, you leave sooner, promise me."
She could hear the smile in his voice. "I will, I promise. Make sure those heathens of yours keep the secret, too. I gotta get off here and get ready for tonight's show. I'll see you next weekend, sis. Love ya!"
"I love you, too, baby brother. Till next weekend then!"
Carly held the phone away from her face and tapped the screen, ending the call, but not the concern she felt. For as long as she could remember Will had gotten feelings about things happening, and though he had tried to brush it off on the phone, more often than not something did happen around the time he had the premonition. He all but predicted the broken arm she got playing softball in high school. He begged his dad not to go to work one day because he had a feeling something bad was going to happen. He carried on so that Joel was late leaving the house. When he got to the interstate, traffic was backed up for a mile. He turned on his CB radio and found out an accident had occurred ahead when a car's front tire blew out. The car swerved and spun out, hitting two other cars in the adjoining lanes. When Joel asked over the radio when it had happened, one of the truckers replied, "About five minutes ago. It's here by the Poplar Avenue exit. I saw it happen." Joel's hands began to shake. Had Will not been so distraught, Joel would have been about that far along on his trip to work. He could very easily have been in that exact spot when the tire blew. He never doubted his son's gift again.