by D. Gideon
“Of course I did,” he snapped. “It would be stupid not to.”
“Weeks from now when the military has you hidden somewhere with your super-secret device and she’s home alone thinking she’ll make it until you get back because you were smart enough to buy that food,” I said, “I want you to think about the government sending in policemen or Guardsmen to raid your house and taking it all. Every single can, every box of pasta.”
This was one of the men responsible for the hell the government was most likely going to put us through in the coming months. Congress and the President had looked at that report he’d helped write and had recognized a good idea for a power grab when they saw one. They had implemented all of the measures recommended to seize private property and businesses. Then they’d used the report as an excuse to go further, apparently, and gave themselves permission to seize people, too. I’d been enraged when I read the Commission’s recommendations, and had had no idea that one of its authors had been here on the campus. If I had, he’d have gotten a piece of my mind a long time ago.
I leaned over, meeting his glare with my own.
“I want you to think about how long your loving wife is going to last when she’s got no food, Professor Williams. I want you to think about how she knows you told them to do this, and what she’ll be thinking of you. I want you to think about her starving to death, and I want you to think about how it’s your fault.”
His face went from angry to stricken in the blink of an eye. He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. His gaze dropped to the food in front of him, still untouched, and the two sandwiches carefully wrapped so they’d stay fresh. He reached out a shaking hand to touch them, and just sat there, trembling. I hoped he was lost in a nightmare of imagining what it would be like for his wife, what it would be like for all of us. All because of the authority he’d used to give the government the loophole they’d wanted for so long.
“C’mon,” I said, straightening. “Let’s get out of here. We’ve got family to get home to.”
We pushed through the cafeteria doors into the dying sunlight, and almost as one we looked up at the sky. The brightness of the sun had held the lights at bay, but now that it was setting, they were coming back. If Mel and the girls thought people had been going crazy last night, I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like out there on the roads with a second night of a rainbow sky.
At least we had Mel’s truck, and with any luck, we’d be home tonight. It was only 130 miles, plus the thirty or so out to Josh’s house. We could easily do that on one tank of gas, even with backups and re-routing blocked roads.
“Josh, don’t take this the wrong way,” I said, “but I cannot wait until you’re out of that truck and we’re on our way home.”
Josh actually managed part of a laugh. “No offense taken, Rip. It’ll mean I’m home safe.”
“Safe until the fuckin’ government comes knocking at the door,” Mel said. “You think they’ll come to your town, Rip?”
“No idea,” I said. “It’s so tiny I doubt they’d bother.”
“If they do, we’ll just tell them who you are and that they have to leave us alone,” Corey said with a grin.
Mel pushed back her hair and glared at him. “You wanting to die young?”
“What’s the use of having friends in high places if you can’t take advantage of it once in a while?” Corey said. Mel swiped at him and he danced out of her reach. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one.
“High places,” she snorted. “Fuck that. I’d rather be in Grams’ kitchen any day than listening to my mother brag about how she stopped some bill from going to a vote on the House floor.”
Her combat boots stomped on the sidewalk. I’d begged her to get a pair before everyone left for the summer, just to have durable walking shoes. She’d proudly produced a pair this morning that were a bright red color at the toe that faded to a dark brownish-red a few inches back. It looked like she’d soaked them in blood, and I had to admit they were cool as hell. There were metal studs all around the tops of the calves. I just hoped they were good for walking. They had probably cost her a few hundred dollars. At least they were real leather that was supposedly waterproofed, and they had good, thick soles. Combined with her black peasant skirt and reddish-black tank top, she looked like she was ready to start killing zombies.
We passed by the porta-potties and choked at the smell. Even with whatever industrial-strength air freshener they had in those things, they were still reeking. The physical plant guys had set up five of them for our quad of buildings, and that seemed to be enough. There was always one open when you needed it. Corey had told me that most of the guys were just pissing in the urinals on his floor rather than walk all the way down the stairs, and all of the toilets had deposits in them despite Todd threatening to write up a warning for anyone he found crapping in there. I hadn’t noticed anything like that in our bathrooms this morning, but I didn’t think it would take long for the girls there to come to the same conclusion, figuring it would all magically flush away sometime this weekend.
Fighting for our noses’ attention was the smell of smoke coming from the city. We could see black, billowing clouds in the distance; the sign of a fire raging unchecked. I wondered how many people had been rendered homeless last night because the city’s firefighters couldn’t do their job without pressure in the lines.
We rounded the corner of the building to find students sitting in groups on the steps and the grass in front of the building. The windows in our building didn’t open for safety reasons, and without the air system running it was sweltering inside. Mel found a patch of grass and sat down, patting the ground beside her.
“I’m going in to see if my Dad’s here yet,” Josh said. “Be back in a few.”
I sank down beside Mel, shaking my head as she blew out a puff of smoke. “How many of those do you have left?” I asked.
She jammed the cigarette in her mouth and fished around in her skirt pockets, producing a pack. Opening it, she frowned. “Half a pack,” she said, squinting from the smoke.
“You know when those are gone, that’s it, right?” Corey asked, sitting down in front of her. Marco dropped his messenger bag next to me and collapsed unceremoniously beside us. He lay there, staring up at the sky. This had become a ritual over the past year; sitting outside after a trip to the cafeteria and waiting for Mel to finish her cigarette.
Mel pulled the cigarette from her mouth and pointed at Corey with it. “Shut your heretic mouth. I’m still in denial about that.”
“Maybe we’ll find an open convenience store,” Marco said. We all looked at him like he was crazy. “What? You never know. There’s probably lots of them running the registers on generators right now.”
I shrugged. “Could be. The Food Rite in our town has a generator. When a storm knocks out the power there, it’s the only thing open.”
“See? The gods are conspiring to make sure I can still get my fix,” Mel said, leaning back onto her elbows. Her long hair brushed the ground behind her.
“They only take cash when that happens though,” Corey said. “Your credit card won’t do you any good.”
“Don’t make me kick you, Corey. Let a girl dream,” Mel said.
“You can see the lights coming back,” Marco said. We all looked up at the darkening sky.
“If people were crazy over the lights last night, think of how it’s going to be tonight,” I said. “Two nights in a row. It’s sure to freak people out.”
“After last night, I don’t want to think about it,” Mel said. “I’m just glad we’re getting out of here tonight.” She took another drag and stubbed her cigarette out on the ground.
“How long do you think it’ll do this?” Marco said. His expression was worried.
“I think the last time this happened, it was something like eight or nine days,” Corey said. “I’d have to check my notes.”
“Doesn’t mean they’ll keep going that long
this time,” I said. “Maybe it’s not as powerful.”
Corey raised an eyebrow at me. “Maybe it’s more powerful. Maybe they’ll last longer.”
“You’re just the fuckin’ good news fairy today,” Mel said. “Quit it. You’re not enhancing my calm.”
Corey grinned, rubbed his short beard, and looked like he was trying to think of another depressing piece of reality to lay on us. I caught his eye and shook my head slightly, glancing over at Marco. Mel was full of bluster, but as long as she was trading barbs, she was fine. Marco was starting to worry me. He was far too quiet.
“He’s not here yet,” Josh said, coming back and flopping down beside Mel. “Oh, and you guys do not want to go up to our floor.” He waved a hand in front of his face. “Even with the broken windows to air it out, the whole thing stinks like an outhouse.” Marco and Corey groaned.
We all sat there, letting our full bellies and the heat of the late afternoon lull us into a sleepy stupor. Mel lit another cigarette, and I lay back onto the grass, staring up at the beautiful sky.
“Well, I’m gonna head up to your room and take a nap,” Corey said. “It’s bound to be a long night. May as well grab some sleep while we can.”
“Good idea,” I said, getting to my feet. “Anyone else?”
“I’ll come,” Marco said. “I was falling asleep laying here anyway.” He got up and slung the messenger bag over his shoulder. “Josh? Mel?”
Josh shook his head. “I’m gonna stay out here and wait for my Dad,” he said. “He should’ve been here by now, even with the blocked roads.”
“I’ll keep Ginger company,” Mel said, cocking her head at Josh. “Wouldn’t want any desperate women running off with him.” Josh blushed, and Mel nudged him with her boot, winking.
“You’re letting your nice side show again,” I warned, grinning. “You’re gonna ruin your reputation.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. How long until we leave?” She asked, looking at her watch.
Corey looked at his, too. “Not quite two hours,” he said. “8:00 hits and we’re out of here.”
Mel fished in another pocket and pulled out her sunglasses, settling them on her face before leaning back on her elbows again. I couldn’t help but grin. She looked for all the world like she couldn’t care less if shit was hitting the fan.
“Sounds like a plan,” she said. “We’ll come get our shit when it’s almost time.”
I looked out over the campus. As far as the eye could see, students were walking around and lounging on the grass like it was any other Saturday. Like they didn’t have a care in the world. I thought about what Professor Williams had said, about the Guard leaving and the city rushing in. I didn’t want to be here when that happened. It would be bedlam.
“Just a few more hours and we’ll be home,” I said, catching up with Corey and Marco.
Marco snorted, giving me a guarded look before glancing away.
“Nothing’s ever that easy,” he said. “Murphy’s Law.”
“Let’s just keep our fingers crossed,” Corey said. “Either way, we’ll be there by tomorrow this time, at the latest.”
As we pushed through the doors into our building, I took one last glance back at all of the students sitting outside. Mel waved, then flipped me the bird. She fell back laughing, and Josh was beet red beside her, grinning and rubbing his face.
It just seems so safe here, I thought. Like nothing’s even happening. My thoughts drifted to my parents, 50 miles from home at Rehoboth Beach. Maybe they’d make it home before I did. They had Dad’s truck. I hoped they had realized what was happening and had already left. Who knows, maybe out there in the real world, where things weren’t insulated and filtered through the campus leadership, they’d gotten real information about what was happening and were already home.
I tried to calm my worrying. Just a few more hours, and I’d find out. Just a few more hours, and I’d be in my own bed at home, surrounded by my family. We could handle this together.
Just a few more hours.
CHAPTER 12
Saturday, September 1st
College Park, Maryland
We weren’t the only ones with the idea to leave once it was dark. As it was, we didn’t set out until about 8:30 because Amy and Leandra came to see us off. I’d given Leandra the plastic keycard to my room in case there was anything in there she might need—like the water.
Trudging across campus, we saw other students—some alone, some in pairs, but none in a group as large as ours—carrying suitcases and heading out to the various parking lots. Maybe Professor Williams’ little speech had gotten around. It wouldn’t surprise me—the grapevine here ran at about light speed.
I had my Get Home Bag on my back, one of Corey’s buckets full of my clothes in one hand, and was pulling one of Mel’s rolling suitcases in the other. Corey mirrored me, with a bucket of his own clothes. Marco had his backpack and his messenger bag, both of which were stuffed to the point of exploding. Mel had a backpack, her laptop bag hanging off of one shoulder, her pocketbook slung across her chest, and was dragging the third suitcase. Josh had a backpack, a wooden baseball bat, and one rolling suitcase full of medical books that he refused to leave behind. If we’d been riding a cart, we’d have looked like the Beverly Hillbillies moving into California.
“I wonder what held my Dad up,” Josh said. “He should have made it. It’s not like this solar storm made the cars and small electronic devices stop running like a nuclear EMP would.” He tugged the suitcase over a small branch that had fallen off of one of the many campus trees. “If he left straight from work, the truck would’ve gotten him here.”
“Try not to worry,” I said. “Maybe he went home first and decided your Mom needed the truck more than he did.”
He considered this, watching the ground closely as we walked. “Maybe you’re right. We were going to move the goats and chickens back into the woods if something like this ever happened. Get them out of sight.”
“There ya go,” Mel said, huffing a little. “That’s probably all it is. We’ll meet up with him on the road.”
“If we don’t pass him,” Josh said. “I’m wishing now we’d gotten glow-in-the-dark lumber markers. I wonder if they even make those?”
“Not anymore,” Marco said. He hadn’t spoken much since we got up from our nap.
“There it is,” Mel said, jutting out her chin. “The big white Suburban over by that tree.”
I was looking at the military vehicle sitting in the intersection. There were men standing in front of Campus Drive, but no cars were trying to get in. If there was anything going on out in town, I couldn’t hear it for the big generator they were using to power their flood lights.
Mel dug the key fob out of her pocket and squeezed it. The lights on the truck flashed twice.
“Just wave your foot under the bumper to open the back hatch,” she said.
We filed around the truck and started dropping things onto the ground as the big door was opening. Marco stood behind us, staring over at the guards.
“We’ll put your suitcases in first, Mel,” Corey said. “Since they’re so blocky.”
“Fine by me,” she said, pushing one towards him. He lifted it with a grunt and swung it into the back of the truck.
“You think they’ll let us leave?” Marco asked.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t they? They might search the truck, but they’ll let us leave,” Mel said.
“I don’t know,” Marco said. “They’re watching us pretty closely.”
I turned and looked. Sure enough, the man sitting on the military vehicle manning the gun had his head pointed our way, and two of his buddies had walked around to our side of the vehicle where they could watch us. Corey gave another grunt as he lifted the last of Mel’s suitcases into the back.
“Weird,” I said. It made me nervous.
“Mel, start the truck,” Marco said. “See if they react.”
“You getting’ paranoid, Romeo?” Mel said
with a grin, tossing the key fob to him.
“In most countries, when you’ve got guys sitting on an MRAP watching you, you get the hell out of there before they open fire,” Marco said. “Yeah, I’m getting paranoid.”
“What’s that smell?” Josh asked.
We all sniffed. A breeze was blowing, but as it shifted we caught the smell of gasoline.
“Smells like they spilled some gas when they were refueling that huge generator,” Mel said.
I shook my head. “That generator’s diesel, Mel. Different smell.”
Marco studied the fob for a moment and then hit a button. The truck started. The soldiers straightened, becoming more alert. We hurriedly tossed the rest of our bags into the back and shut the door. As we were getting into the truck, it stalled.
“What the-” Mel said. “Marco, did you hit the brake? It’ll cut off if you hit the brake before you put in the key.”
“I didn’t touch the brake,” Marco said. He put the key into the ignition slot and turned it.
The truck turned over for a moment, started, then coughed out again.
“What the fuck?” Mel said. She reached for the fob. “Let me try.”
“Wait,” Corey said. “Hold on a minute.” He opened the door and got out. We turned in our seats to watch as he walked around to the back of the truck and disappeared, bending down.
“SHIT,” he yelled. “You’re not gonna believe this. Mother…”
“What is it?” I called to him.
He stood up, shaking his head and wiping his hands on his pants. “Get out,” he said. “We’re not going anywhere.”
A barrage of questions erupted, and we all climbed out. At the back of the truck, Corey was pointing to the ground.
“Get down there and look,” he said. “I found out where the gas smell was coming from.”
Marco dropped to his knees and peered under the truck. “Rip, hand me a flashlight.”
I passed him the small one I kept in my pocket. He shone it around for a moment, laying down on his stomach and scooting forward. When the light wobbled around, I could see a dark stain on the pavement.