Blackout: Book 0

by Alexandria Clarke

  “I was listening,” she said. “You guys are leaving?”

  “Yeah, and you should come with us,” I told her. “You don’t have any family here, do you?”

  “Nope. They’re all in Barcelona.”

  “Good.” I tugged her into a hug. “That means they’re safe. Is there anyone else you need to check in on?”

  She put her hands into the pockets of my jacket to warm them. “Not really. I don’t talk to anyone at school. Everyone I know here lives in this building.”

  “Speaking of which,” Jacob began. “Hey, everybody!” He climbed up on one of the patio chairs and waved his hands above his head. Those who remained on the roof turned to look at him, quieting their conversations. “This blackout’s not going to go away anytime soon. The longer you stay in Denver, the more dangerous it’s going to get. If you have the ability to leave the city, you should do so as soon as morning hits. Stock up on water and supplies. Go somewhere safe and stay inside. There’s going to be a lot of crime on the streets, and I don’t want to come back to this building a few weeks from now and find out that any of you got hurt.” He cleared his throat uncertainly. “I guess that’s all. See you later.”

  Jacob jumped down from the chair and clapped shoulders with a few of his muscled friends from the gym. I was glad that he hadn’t invited them to join our escapade out of the city. More people meant more trouble. As much as I hated to admit it, bringing Jacob’s family along was going to be a challenge in and of itself. The Masons were used to luxury cars and expensive hotels. I couldn’t picture them in flannel and hiking boots as we trekked through the mountains. His parents would have to power through, but Pippa was going to present a unique problem. It wasn’t wise to put a pregnant high school senior through this kind of stress. We needed someone to look after her.

  “Hey, Nita,” I said, pulling her aside. “What do you know about pregnant women?”

  “Uh, I did a few rounds in obstetrics.”

  “Perfect.”

  Jacob finished his goodbyes and joined us, his arms laden with empty beer bottles and the empty steak package. “Ready to head to bed? We should probably try to get a decent night’s sleep.”

  We followed the others into the stairway and made our way down to our floor. Outside our apartment, Nita hesitated before moving along to her unit at the other end of the hall.

  “Do you mind if I stay with you guys?” she asked. “I don’t want to be alone tonight. Not in this craziness.”

  “Who’s the scaredy cat now?” I teased.

  Jacob pinched my arm. “Hush, you. Of course you can stay with us. Come on in.”

  We ushered the younger woman into the apartment first. Despite my mocking, the thought of Nita sleeping over comforted me. Safety in numbers and all that. Moreover, Jacob’s and my unit was the best one in the building. His father had made sure of that, renovating each room until the apartment could have passed for a New York City loft. The rest of the units in the building were fit for college students and recent postgraduates rather than anyone with a plentiful salary. I’d seen Nita’s apartment. It was nice, but it lacked the extra touches that we were fortunate enough to have in ours. A twinge of remorse flickered through me. Tomorrow, we would leave our homey apartment behind without concrete knowledge of whether we would ever return to it.

  Jacob dumped his armload of trash into the bin. “You two can take the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  “Oh no, I couldn’t do that to you,” Nita said. “You guys should both sleep in the bedroom.”

  Jacob flopped down the couch and pulled the throw blanket over his legs. It only covered from his waist to his shins. “Too late. I’m already asleep.”

  I smiled, shirked off my ski jacket, and knelt down to free a few water bottles from the plastic package that Jacob and I had argued over earlier. “It’s a losing battle, Nita. Here, take these to wash up. We’re going to have to make do for now.”

  Nita accepted the water bottles and headed down the hallway. “You’re too good to me.”

  As the door to the bathroom clicked shut, I looked over to Jacob. He had one arm slung over his face, and his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. I envied his ability to fall asleep so effortlessly. Every night, I tossed and turned and stared at the ceiling and let a barrage of thoughts tumble through my mind like an untuned radio. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone to sleep like a normal person. It had been this way since I was a kid, and I had learned to function on six hours instead of the prescribed eight.

  “Stop staring at me,” he said suddenly.

  I jumped a little. “I thought you were asleep. And I wasn’t staring.”

  “Yes, you were.” He peeked out from beneath his arm. “I can feel your eyes on me. Get over here.”

  I walked over to the sofa and perched myself on the edge. Jacob wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me on top of him until I was flush against his chest. My hand sank into the cushions as I propped my head up to look at him. The wind on the roof had stripped his golden hair of product. I combed my fingers through it, laying it flat across his forehead in a style he never wore. He blew upward, and the whoosh of air sent the blond strands out of his eyes.

  “Everything’s going to change tomorrow, isn’t it?” he asked, taking my face in his hands.

  I closed my eyes, focusing on the rough feel of his calloused palms against my cheeks. “Everything already has changed. You just haven’t realized it yet.”

  His touch drifted to the hair buzzed short to my scalp. When I’d first shaved it off, he’d grimaced at the lopsided style. Now he gravitated to that side of my head, as if the soft fuzz acted as a curious comfort.

  “What do you think it’s going to be like?”

  “Hmm.” I rested my head against his chest, buzzed side down. “Do you remember when you told me that you wanted to go backpacking through Europe?”

  He played with my long violet locks. “Yes…”

  “And then when we got to the first hostel, you told me that there was no way you were going to stay in that filthy room or share a bathroom with the other travelers?”

  “And then we booked a four-star hotel room in Rome,” he finished. “Which you loved. Just putting it out there.”

  I poked his side, just beneath his rib cage, one of his few ticklish areas. He squirmed beneath me. “I did love it, but that’s not the point. You know what it’s going to be like? It’s going to be like that hostel but worse. At least that place had running water. This time you won’t be able to turn your nose up at the accommodations and run off to a hotel.”

  “I am perfectly capable of roughing it.”

  “Oh, really?” I reached past the waist of his jeans and snapped the band of his designer boxer briefs against the sensitive skin of his hips. “And what happens when you run out of clean underwear?”

  “I don’t know. We’ll wash them in a stream or whatever.”

  “Can’t wait to see that.”

  “Hey, I read My Side of the Mountain in fifth grade,” he argued. “I’m ready to go all Sam Gribley on your butt. And speaking of butts…”

  His touch wandered south. For all the arguments and the bickering, that was one area of our relationship that never suffered. From the beginning, our connection had been based in physicality. When we’d first met at a crowded club near the University of Denver, we hadn’t bothered to introduce ourselves to each other. A raw undeniable energy sparked between us as soon as we spotted each other across the bar, and a minute later, I was pressed against the wall of the club mezzanine, hands in his hair and legs around his waist. It was a fiery moment fueled by neon lights, a pulsing backbeat, and the taste of margarita salt on Jacob’s tongue. That was over five years ago, and while Jacob and I had had our ups and downs—we even broke up for a while—the urgency and enthusiasm for each other’s figures never wavered.

  Unfortunately, as much as I wanted to take advantage of our last night in our own place, we weren’t alone. The ba
throom door creaked opened.

  “All yours!” Nita called, her footsteps padding down the hallway.

  I rolled off of Jacob, dislodging his eager touch, and stood up as Nita came into the living room. She stopped short when she saw us and delivered a sly grin.

  “I said I’d take the couch,” she offered.

  Jacob rolled over, groaning his embarrassment into the couch cushions. A blush crept up my neck and cheeks, but the darkness hid the rush of color.

  “Sorry,” I said to Nita.

  “Don’t apologize.” She swept her damp hair away from her forehead. “I’d probably do the same thing if I had someone to do it with. Seriously, take the bedroom—”

  “No, it’s fine,” Jacob said, facedown in the cushions. He wasn’t the type of guy to boast about his boldness in the bedroom. He remained poised and respectful in front of other people and saved anything blue for behind closed doors. “I’ve already died of shame.”

  Nita caught my eye and mouthed, “Smack his butt.”

  I obliged.

  “Georgiana Elizabeth Fitz!”

  Nita and I burst into laughter, and Nita tossed a throw pillow at Jacob’s head. “Relax, Jake. We get a kick out of messing with you.”

  He used the throw pillow to hide his ears, which turned bright red when he was embarrassed. “I’m going to sleep now.”

  “Night.” I kissed the back of his hand since his face wasn’t available then looped an arm around Nita’s shoulders and led her down the hallway. “I’m glad you’re around. We’re going to need your sense of humor during all of this. It’s a good way to stay sane.”

  She leaned against the doorway of the bathroom while I washed my face with the bottled water. “You really think it’s going to get that bad?”

  I dried my face and reached for my toothbrush. “I think it’s better to expect the worst. That way, either you’re prepared for whatever shit comes down the stream, or you’re pleasantly surprised by the working raft.”

  “Pessimist.”

  “Realist,” I rectified.

  A few minutes later, after I’d retrieved the duvet from the closet and given Nita a pair of pajamas to borrow, we climbed into the king-sized bed and curled up on opposite sides. The sheets were cold and unforgiving. I curled my toes in and drew my knees up to my chest, hoping that my own body warmth would make up for the lack of heat in the room. I closed my eyes. A minute passed. Then another. Then several more. I rolled over and stared at the blank ceiling. Usually, the streetlight outside the window cast the pattern of our curtains across the white paint like a piece of abstract art. Tonight, my makeshift gallery was gone. The ceiling was dark, and the skinny moon outside wasn’t enough to penetrate the cotton fabric of the window treatments. I turned over again.

  “Georgie?”

  “Yeah.”

  Nita flipped over to face me. “I can feel you moving.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  “I wasn’t scolding you,” she said, fluffing the pillow that usually belonged to Jacob. “I just feel bad because you can’t sleep. Come here.”

  “What?”

  She patted the empty space between me and her. “I know I’m not Jacob, but there are studies that say sleeping close to someone reduces stress and encourages feelings of safety. It has something to do with lowering your cortisol levels and blood pressure—”

  “Nita, I don’t need the rundown on the whole study,” I told her, but I scooted closer to her side of the bed. She cuddled up behind me and draped an arm casually across my waist. “Hey, shouldn’t I be the big spoon since I’m taller than you?”

  “No,” she said. “Now shut up and go to sleep.”

  We fell silent again. I didn’t expect Nita’s trick to work. Sleeping next to Jacob did nothing to ease my nighttime anxiety. Then again, we tended to leave several feet of space between us since he ran hot at night. As I listened to Nita breathe, the ebb and flow of it like waves against a shore, my eyelids drooped, and I drifted off in a matter of minutes.

  The sun woke us, streaming through the bedroom window with something like boastfulness. I shifted against the pillows as it glowed red behind my eyelids, forgetting for a few moments the events that had transpired the night before. Then I realized that the timer on the coffee pot in the kitchen hadn’t automatically brewed my usual Saturday morning cup—the aroma of dark roast was missing from the air—and the person sleeping next to me was small and soft. Jacob’s snores, loud enough to rouse me from the deepest of REM cycles, did not reach their customary air raid siren volume but rather traveled lightly into the bedroom from down the hallway.

  Grudgingly, I opened my eyes. Nita was still asleep, huddled under the covers to keep the cold at bay. The chill had worsened overnight, but the rug was warm from the light of the sun as I stepped out of bed, tugged on another layer over my pajamas, and slipped into a pair of boots with a fuzzy inner lining.

  In the kitchen, I tiptoed around, trying not to wake Jacob as I rummaged through cabinets and drawers that we rarely opened. A collection of items grew on the island counter: canteens, camping cookware, hand-crank flashlights, bug repellant, citronella candles, matches and lighters, et cetera. Jacob and I had not been camping once together—it was too reminiscent of my childhood and Jacob wasn’t exactly an outdoorsy guy—but I hadn’t forgotten the basics.

  Jacob found me out on the patio, curled up in the rocking chair and drinking coffee as if it were any other morning. He peeked into the mug. “How did you make that without a working pot?”

  I pointed to the grill that we kept on the patio. “Boiled water on the grill like Nita did for the hot chocolate last night. Then I mixed in the coffee grounds and poured it through a filter. Want a sip?”

  “No, thanks. I can’t drink it black.” He dropped a kiss on the top of my head. “I noticed the stuff on the counter. What’s the plan for today?”

  “Pretty simple,” I said. “We pack up, head to your parents’ place, and try not to get caught up in the bullshit in the process. As soon as we pick up your family, it’s out to the Rockies.”

  “But how are we supposed to get there?”

  “We didn’t buy those expensive road bikes for no reason,” I reminded him. “They’re perfect for getting through the city. It’s about thirty blocks to your parents’ apartment. We could cover that in less than an hour. And Nita has a mountain bike, so she’s good too. Are you sure you don’t want some coffee? The caffeine kick might help.”

  Jacob caved in, took a sip, and wrinkled his nose at the bitter taste. “I wasn’t so worried about making it across town. I was more wondering how we’re supposed to get up to this place in the mountains without a working vehicle.”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, but it might come down to a good few weeks’ of hiking,” I told him.

  A flash of panic crossed his face. “Weeks?”

  “We’re taking Pippa, remember?” I looked out over the city toward the mountains, trying to ignore the clamor at street level. “She’s going to need to rest more often than the rest of us.”

  “Georgie…” Jacob fiddled with a splinter in the wooden arm of the rocking chair. “I want to ask you one more time. Are you sure that getting out of the city is our best option?”

  I glanced up at him. He tried to reset his expression but couldn’t mask the top layer of doubt. “You’re having second thoughts.”

  “No,” he said. “Fine. Yes. I just keep envisioning all six of us trekking through the mountains like the Donner Party before someone’s cell phone rings and we all look back at the city to see every light in town on.”

  “The Donner Party resorted to cannibalism to stay alive.”

  “So not the point.”

  “I don’t know how to convince you that this is the right thing to do,” I told him. “Do I have doubts? Yes. But when it comes down to it, my plan is the safest one. If the power comes back on when we’re halfway to the hills, then it will be a pleasant surprise. Until then, I thi
nk it’s better for us to take as many precautions as possible.”

  Someone knocked on the glass door, bringing the conversation to an end, and Nita stepped out to join us on the balcony. “Ooh, coffee! Do you mind?”

  “Go for it,” I said. “There’s no cream though.”

  “Please. Cream is for amateurs.” She poured herself a cup and squinted into the sunlight toward the mountains. “We’re really doing this, aren’t we?”

  “Yup,” I said before Jacob could jump in. “We should try to get out of here in the next hour or so. The streets are pretty quiet. We need to take advantage of it.”

  “What should I do?” Nita asked.

  “Pack a bag,” I told her. “Not a suitcase. Something you can carry on your back. Make sure you bring enough stuff to keep yourself warm, but not so much that your back’s going to hurt after a few hours of walking. Meet us back here with your bike. Sound good?”

  Nita saluted me. “Yes, sir. See you guys in a bit.”

  She left with her coffee, leaving Jacob and me alone once more. I finished off my drink and stood up. “Let’s get started.”

  Over the next hour, Jacob watched as I packed up the essentials for roughing it in the woods. At first, he tried to help, but he didn’t even know to roll and arrange his clothes to fit them all in the packs that we had leftover from our backpacking attempt. I quickly showed him the ropes so that we could expedite the process, but it was almost painful to watch him painstakingly roll every single Ralph Lauren sweater into perfect cylinders before attempting to stack them in his pack. I left him to it and returned to the items in the kitchen, fitting everything into my own backpack or attaching it to the outside. As I tightened up the straps, Nita knocked on the door.

  “How’s it look out there?” I asked her.

  “In the hallway? Pretty tame.” She propped the door open with her foot and rolled her bike in. I was glad to see that she wore a practical duffel bag strapped to her back. “I don’t think the people in this building are taking things very seriously.”