by Harley Tate
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 w
asn’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.”
“No way. We’re way, way too far south.”
“Not if the geomagnetic storm is here, we’re not.”
Brianna scrunched up her face, freckles disappearing in the creases. “It can’t be here. We still have power. The car still works, so does my phone. An EMP could kill all that.”
“Not a solar one. CMEs only cause E3 electromagnetic pulses. They don’t knock out small electronics.”
“Then what do they knock out?”
Tucker glanced up at the darkening sky before speaking. “The power grid.”
“Oh, great. That’s even better than a nuclear bomb. Our cars will work but no one will be able to pump gas or heat their homes or make any food. Awesome.”
Peyton spoke up. “Everyone pack your bags. If we have to ditch the car at some point, we should be ready.”
Madison opened her mouth to protest, but shut it just as quickly. She couldn’t argue with Peyton’s logic. He handed her the brand-new hiking pack she’d picked out and she twisted around to retrieve the rest of her gear.
Starting with the heaviest items first, Madison packed her bag. Water and food. Spare clothes and first aid supplies. Crank flashlight and a multi-tool. Hiking boots and a winter coat.
She cinched her sleeping bag down across the top and set the whole thing on the floorboard. If they had to bail, she’d be ready.
After everyone finished, Tucker broke the silence. “I still think we should go.”
Brianna shook her head. “I’m not leaving the Jeep unless we absolutely have to.” She reached out and took his hand. “It’s our ticket out of here, Tuck. If we leave it, how will we get to the cabin?”
A lock of hair fell across his eye and he pushed it back. “We’ll walk.”
“You really think we’ll make it all that way on foot?”
> Madison could hear the fear in Brianna’s voice. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her boyfriend, or believe him when he said they should walk. Brianna’s father had taught her all about survival. She knew never to leave the safety of a vehicle if you didn’t have to. Tucker hadn’t grown up like Madison’s roommate. He didn’t share the same concerns.
“Brianna’s right. We shouldn’t leave the Jeep unless we don’t have a choice. It’s safer in here than it is out there. We don’t have any weapons. We’ll be carrying a ton of gear. It’ll look like—”
Peyton spoke up. “We’re easy targets.”
Brianna shook her head. “Worse. We’ll look like prey.”
“Seriously?” Tucker rolled his eyes. “The four of us will be together. That’ll scare anybody off.”
Brianna disagreed. “No, it won’t. As soon as people see what we have, they’ll try to steal it. That’s what people do.”
“Tucker might be right, Brianna.” Madison scooted forward in her seat. “We shouldn’t think the worst of people already. None of us would ever attack someone just because they had something we needed.”
Brianna twisted in the driver’s seat to look Madison in the eye. “What if you were hungry? Thirsty? What if you realized this was the beginning of the end? I don’t think any one of us knows what we’d do in that situation.”
Madison scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. You seriously think that I’d turn into some criminal just because the power went out?”
“Not at first. But other people won’t hesitate. You think too much of your fellow man, Madison.”
She’d heard similar sentiments before. When Madison tried to recruit other agricultural students to establish a homeless garden, only a handful of students offered to help. The rest begged off saying they were too busy or didn’t think it would do any good.
A few told her that those people weren’t worth helping. It would be throwing all that hard work away since the people they helped were drug addicts and ex-cons. It didn’t make any sense to Madison. So they were down on their luck. So a few might have criminal pasts. It didn’t mean they were beyond help.
Everyone needed assistance now and then.