Kate sat on the edge of the driver’s seat and kicked sullenly at the cold, yellow dust that encroached on the edge of the road. Her sneakers dislodged several pebbles and sent them skittering across I-40’s eastbound lane.
My flight bag’s not big enough for all that water anyway.
Kate thought for a moment about the car’s interior. She had a knife, so she could cut and slash her way through the seats and anything else except the frame. Behind the dash and under the hood, she had plenty of wire for cordage. She just needed a way to transport the supplies that wouldn’t fit in her bag.
Kate glanced across the flat landscape at the sagebrush dotting her view off to the distant horizon. It was a bleak prospect before her, walking east along this interstate—a daunting task for anyone in their prime.
She frowned. She hadn’t gotten a decent night’s sleep in over a week now. She’d been living off crap food found at that Target back in Los Angeles. Though she wasn't in terrible shape, she wasn't a 20-something Air Force officer anymore—taking a multi-mile hike through the desert didn't appeal to her very much.
If she stayed in the car, she’d die. There wasn't enough traffic to be reliable for her to assume she could hitch a ride even if she could find a vehicle that appeared relatively safe. The only way forward was to walk, and she very likely could die that way too.
Well, if I'm going to die no matter what, I may as well die trying to get home.
Thus resolved, Kate stood and symbolically dusted her hands on her pants. The first order of business was to get some rest—she’d been up all day and spent most of that driving. After her escape from Albuquerque, her body demanded rest.
She pulled out her flight bag. From her Air Force SERE training, she remembered the best way to motivate herself was to spread everything she had out on the ground and organize said gear.
"Every time you have a chance, do so—it will increase the possibility of discovering a new use for one of your items," she remembered one of her SERE instructors, an active-duty Pararescueman, drilling those words in her class over and over again.
Kate smiled as she found her usual survival kit, right where she left it. Pulling free one of the four space blankets and duct tape—she’d wrapped an empty roll of toilet paper in the hundred mph tape for easy transport—she set about blocking the busted rear window. It wasn’t repaired of course, but by taping the mylar sheet up over the hole, Kate at least could trap what heat remained inside the car.
She stepped back, looking at her handiwork. It wasn't pretty, and it certainly wouldn't hold out the night air as well as she would’ve liked, but it would have to do. She knew at least she would survive what was left of the night in a little more comfort now.
Kate settled into the front seat and dropped it back to its full, nearly horizontal extension. She drank a bottle of water and ate two large beef jerky sticks, hoping the nutrients and water would prepare her body for the long task ahead of her. She’d spend the rest of the night and most of the morning as comfortable as possible, and then tomorrow, maybe in the afternoon, she'd set out for home.
Dear God, please watch over Jay. Protect Leah. I love her as if she were my own. Jay is not the most competent of outdoorsman, but if you can see it in Your mercy to make sure he reaches Leah, I'd be very thankful.
Not knowing what else to say, Kate muttered "amen," settled back, and fell asleep after one deep breath.
CHAPTER 8
LEAH STARED OUT THE window at the ruined landscape, so alien and beyond recognition. The remains of Building A smoldered, surrounded by the looted contents of Building C and her own dorm. Four bodies still lay in the street, covered by blankets thanks to Aaron’s group as they left the day before. She knew Aaron and the rest of the survivors from B had done all they could for the dead students, but it still creeped her out knowing what lay under the dirty blankets in the street.
“It’s like they’re warning us what’ll happen if we stay.”
Leah looked at Thom. “Get out of my head.”
He snorted but never smiled. Thom turned from the next window and stared into the common room. “We’re down to just a few days of food, you know.”
Leah sighed. “I know.”
“You can’t keep giving half your rations to Becca.”
Leah wiped away a tear and continued to stare out the window. “I have to. She’s injured—she needs her strength.” Leah’s eyes searched beyond the ruins of Building A. If her dad was on his way, he’d come down that hill, the only way to get to her dorm.
She’d stood by the window every day…watching…waiting. It had been over a week now and still no sign of him. It had been almost four days since they’d seen any cops. They hadn’t even heard the distant wail of a fire engine for more than 48 hours now—in sharp contrast to the constant auditory bombardment they'd been experiencing since Impact.
“Are you even listening to me?” Thom asked.
Leah turned from the window. “I’m sorry, what?”
Thom’s face softened. “I said I don’t think your dad’s coming, Leah. I’m sorry—”
“He is,” she snapped as she turned back to the window.
Thom sighed and stepped away. “I’m going to go check on Hunter and Becca.”
When she didn’t answer, he left. The sound of his sneakers on the common room carpet faded until he disappeared down the hallway.
“He’s coming,” she said to herself. She even tried to will him to appear over that hill and drive that little Ford Escape of his up to the front door. Leah held her breath, waiting.
She exhaled and closed her eyes. Who am I kidding? He’s not coming—Thom’s right…
Leah rested her forehead against the cold glass, finally giving in and allowing the tears to flow. Her dad was most likely dead out there on the road somewhere—if he ever left Bloomington—where God only knew what might have happened.
Leah sank against the wall, slid to the floor, huddled up her knees, and sobbed. She was all alone in the world with a guy she barely knew, a pot head, and a girl with a probably-fatal gunshot wound. They were running out of food and water, there was no help anywhere, and the people who’d attacked them a few days ago might return at any time for payback.
Leah didn’t know what to do or where to go. She just wanted her dad, and she wanted Kate—she wanted to go home.
The wave of despair finally crested and left her emotionally washed up and gasping for breath. She eventually sat up and cleared her eyes, knowing she had a decision to make. Thom wanted to leave—he’d wanted to join Aaron. But she saw it in his eyes: he didn’t want to leave her. Why, she had no idea—it’s not like he owed her anything; if anything it was the other way around.
She also knew if she left, Thom and Hunter would go with her. But what about Becca? They couldn’t carry her—they didn’t have a car. She hadn’t even seen a car in the past few days. Could she abandon the poor girl to her fate and leave her to die alone in the dark?
Thom returned but paused in the doorway when he saw Leah’s face. He frowned, stepped into the common room, and collapsed on a chair.
Leah sniffed and wiped her face. “How’s Becca?”
“I don't think she’s doing all that good.” He shrugged. “I honestly don’t know what the hell to do. I’ve never seen anyone hurt that bad before, you know?”
Leah’s resolve hardened. “I’m not leaving her.”
Thom stared at her with a blank expression on his face as if he’d been waiting to have this conversation. “We have to.” He rubbed his face and ran a hand through his hair.
“How can you say that?” she demanded. “What if it was you…or me in there?”
“We don’t have any medicine for her. She’s starting to feel warm. I think she may have an infection or something.” He sighed again. “I just don’t know.”
Leah stood, smoothing out her sweatshirt while she thought. “So you’d just leave her here to die? Alone?”
Thom stood. “You got a better idea?”
Thom shook his head. “I think we should leave.”
“And go where, man?” asked Hunter from the doorway. He’d snuck up on both of them. “That ain’t cool to bail on her like that.” For the first time, a serious look crossed the stoner's face. “I don’t think we should leave her.”
“Thank you,” Leah said with a small smile.
“But he’s right, man,” Hunter said, pointing at Thom. “We can’t stay here. It’s totally no bueno.”
“Thanks?” Thom muttered.
“So what do we do?” asked Leah.
“It’s easy, girlfriend,” Hunter said as he walked into the room and plopped unceremoniously down on the sofa across from Thom. “We either stay or go, amigos. Either way, Becca stays with us.” Hunter locked his hands behind his head and leaned back with a contented smile on his drawn face.
Leah blinked, surprised that such a momentous decision had been reduced to such simple terms by…a pot head. She laughed out loud, startling Thom.
“You are totally right.”
Hunter winked, a broad smile splitting his face. “You know it.”
“But…what about your dad?” asked Thom.
Leah turned to look at him. “What, now that Hunter says to leave you think my dad will show up?” she demanded. Then, quieter: “I thought you just said he wasn’t coming?”
Thom’s face darkened. “Yeah, but…I mean…” he threw his hands up. “I don’t know what to think anymore.” He sank back into his chair.
For a while, no one spoke, each lost to their own thoughts. Hunter cleared his throat and spoke after a long moment. “Uh…so like, what’s the game plan?”
Leah turned back to the window. Something struck her immediately. It looked like a fresh set of footprints through the snow and soot surrounding Building A, but she couldn’t be sure.
Just your imagination.
Nonetheless, Leah continued to search for her dad out the window, watching the road into town. When he didn’t appear, she felt her eyes water once again.
“I’m good with either staying or going,” Hunter announced. “As long as we stick together.”
Leah sniffed and dried her eyes.
“What if Becca dies while we’re out there?” Thom asked sharply. “What do we do then? Just leave her by the side of the road? The ground is frozen, Hunter—it’s hard as a rock. You saw how Aaron and his group tried to dig holes…they had to leave the bodies…”
Leah kept her eyes on the window. “We stick together.”
Thom and Hunter stopped arguing. “What?” they asked in unison.
Leah turned from the window and faced her two friends. “Hunter’s right. We stick together.”
Hunter grinned. “Yeah, like Band of Brothers—right on...”
Thom rolled his eyes. “So you want to stay here?” he asked Leah. The resentment in his voice was hard to miss.
“Let me ask you this,” Leah countered. “If we leave, where would we go?”
“I’ve thought about this,” Thom said slowly, as if smelling a trap. “I think the first place we check out is the campus police station. If there’s no one there, we head to the admin buildings. Someone from school has got to be around.”
Hunter laughed. “Yo, we haven’t seen the 5-0 in like, days, dude.” He snorted a laugh. “And you think one of those paper pushers from student services will still be sitting around the president’s office? No way, man.”
Thom glared at Hunter. “Then we go to the local cops—Brookville PD’s on the other side of campus.”
Leah looked at her hands. Thom’s plan made sense. It was more logical than anything she could come up with—sitting around waiting for her dad was all she had. She took one more look out the window.
Come on, dad…just drive over that hill…
When he didn’t appear after a few more heartbeats, she sighed and closed her eyes. Goodbye, daddy.
“So what’s it gonna be, girlfriend?”
“Stop calling her that,” Thom muttered.
“I say we go,” Leah whispered.
“What?” asked Thom.
She turned and faced the two boys. “I think you’re right, Thom. Whether I want to admit it or not, my dad’s not coming. It’s been over a week. If things are bad enough out there that he can’t get to us by now…he’s not going to make it.” She swallowed. It was harder to say than she thought.
“My dad’s not coming.”
“So we’re really leaving?” breathed Hunter.
“Sitting here waiting to die seems kind of boring, don’t you think?” Leah asked. She tried to put on a brave smile but judging by Hunter’s reaction, she must have looked more like she had wicked bad cramps.
“Well, if we’re going to get started today, we need to hurry. There’s only a couple hours of light left,” Thom said, standing.
Leah opened her mouth to speak when she saw Hunter cock his head as if listening to something. He held up a hand to stop Thom from speaking.
“You hear that?” whispered Hunter.
“Yeah,” she mumbled, her heart racing.
“Hear what?” asked Thom.
They all heard a crash from the stairwell and Leah watched the color drain from Thom’s face. “Oh. That,” he whispered.
“Come on—we’ve got to get ready!” hissed Leah. “They’re back!”
“Oh boy,” whispered Hunter. He licked his lips. “This is bad news muchachos.”
It only took them a few moments to gather what weapons they could: table legs, broken chair backs, and in Leah’s case, the knife she’d used to stab the attacker in the first assault. They huddled at the stairwell door and waited, listening as someone forced their way up the debris-clogged passage.
Leah swallowed. It was either one very slow person, or an awful lot of people, judging by the time they took to make it up the stairs. She heard a lot of cussing. Leah tightened her grip on the knife and asked for the strength to fight one more time.
“Get ready,” Thom whispered.
“Right on, bro,” Hunter replied, a grim look on his shadowed face. He held a desk leg over his head like a sword.
Leah closed her eyes and strained her ears to listen over the sound of her own pounding heart and heard something unexpected. “Is that someone…crying?”
“Sssh,” Hunter hissed.
“Maybe we should check it out,” Thom suggested, adjusting the chair he held in front of him like a lion-tamer.
“Could be a trap, man,” replied Hunter. He glanced at Leah and lowered his club “But it sure does sound like someone sheddin’ some major drops…”
"What?" asked Thom. "Will you speak English?"
"Sssh!" Leah replied.
They listened in silence to a few heavy footfalls, some more cursing, and the sound of wreckage shifting. A loud thud echoed in the stairwell and they all flinched, jumping back from the door. Leah expected it to crash open, spilling dozens of looters into the hallway but the fire exit door remained shut.
“LEEEAH!”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Dad?” she squeaked. She ignored Thom’s warning and threw open the door to see her father laying on his back, surrounded by debris on the landing.
“Dad!” she shrieked.
CHAPTER 9
KATE'S EYES FLUTTERED OPEN. She yawned and immediately grimaced at the taste in her mouth. Brushing your teeth with a finger and a dab of toothpaste from a travel-sized tube of Colgate got old after a week.
Her knotted back demanded relief, so Kate hauled herself out of the car and stood in the sunshine and blinked. Shielding her eyes, she squinted at the mostly blue sky.
Sun's awfully high for morning…
A glance at her watch told her it was almost 3pm.
Kate leaned against the car and sighed. "Shit."
She'd been asleep almost eleven hours. "No wonder my back hurts," she muttered to herself, knuckling her lower back.
After conduc
ting her desert toilet ritual, Kate returned to the car and drank half a bottle of water. She looked at her dwindling supply capped the bottle in her hand. "And that's the last time I'll get to take more than a swallow…"
She put her hands on her hips and listened to the wind blow across the arid landscape. It almost sounded petulant, as if her car posed too much on an imposition on an otherwise empty world.
She checked her watch again. It was already too late in the day for her to start walking. She wanted to give herself at least an hour before sunset to make camp. What good was walking down the road for an hour only to stop and find a suitable place for a fire?
"May as well stay here tonight and start out in the morning…"
Since she'd decided on hunkering down in her rental car one more night, Kate decided it was time for a detailed catalog of all her supplies, including every scrap of the car she could use as a resource.
"First up, let's take stock." She put the last of her food and water in the driver’s seat. Kate sighed. She didn't have much.
Well, can't do anything about that at the moment.
Next, she gathered the past week’s accumulated trash and made a pile on the ground behind the car. Kate decided to burn it and use the heat from the fire to warm the interior of the car. The smoke might also serve as a beacon to anyone out there searching for stranded motorists.
She sorted through the contents of her flight bag and the random items in the trunk she’d bought at Target next. While she worked, Kate kept a wary eye on the low, scudding clouds that appeared on the horizon.
They didn't necessarily look like snow clouds, but it felt cold enough for snow. Besides, her Air Force survival instructors had taught her to always be conscious of the environment and never take the weather for granted.
Kate clapped her hands and rubbed her arms. Now that she had her sleeping quarters squared away for the coming night, she needed to fashion some way to carry with her what supplies she had.
Kate shielded her eyes and gazed east in the dusty afternoon light, squinting at the horizon. Damn, I could've made ten, maybe fifteen miles today.
It wouldn't amount to much compared to the 900 or so miles still to travel in order to make it home, but now that she was hoofing it, every mile—every step—brought her closer to home…closer to Jay.
Solar Storm (Season 1): Aftermath [Episodes 1-5] Page 30