by Amy Sparling
I can’t say no to that. When you’re lost in the middle of nowhere, it’s kind of super romantic to hear your boyfriend insist that he’ll drive out of his way to find you.
I take a lot of screenshots of each turn I have to make, just in case my signal goes out again and I’m stuck with no map. Then we say our goodbyes and hit the road, me heading east and him heading southwest until we’ll meet up at a Walmart in a town that’s big enough to have one.
Once again I’m back on the road, but this time I know where I’m going. I cruise for about half an hour and then there’s a car in front of me. Soon, there’s a car behind me, too. Then, I’m officially stuck in traffic on this two lane road.
Luckily, the speed limit is 40 and that’s exactly what we’re going. These other people on the road aren’t stopping traffic like what happened on the interstate yesterday. I keep my spirits up and I drive, checking my GPS constantly to make sure I’m not accidentally taking the wrong turn again.
When I’m getting close to my last turn to make before I find Ethan, I notice the red and blue blinking of police lights up ahead. The cars in front of me slow, so I do, too. There’s some kind of problem up ahead, and I figure someone ran out of gas or something.
But as I get closer, I see all the cars in front of me turning left. I’ll be taking a right, which leads to a main highway.
But then it makes sense. There’s a cop in the road, blocking the right turn. He’s waving everyone to make them turn left. I slam on the brakes and roll down my window.
I wave to get his attention. “Sir, I have to turn right.”
He shakes his head, his hand still motioning to the left. “Sorry, the road is closed.”
“What? I have to go that way.”
“You can’t. Major accident. Gasoline tanker exploded. There’s no getting through there at all, ma’am.”
My jaw falls open. I inch forward a little because I’m holding up traffic. The sun is starting to come up and I can see a huge plume of black smoke off to the right. There’s nothing for me to do but keep driving, so I pull forward, make the stupid left turn, and then pull over on the side of the road. There are dozens of cars on the road now, all headed in the new direction as if they don’t have a care in the world. I thought for sure they’d want to go to the highway, too. I guess not.
I look at my phone, but it has conveniently decided to lose all signal again. I pull up my screenshots, but they don’t show what happens to the left. I only took pictures of my route, which was supposed to go to the right. I’m probably ten miles away from Ethan right now. But I have no idea how to get to him.
My breathing is ragged and I’m fighting tears. I’m still surrounded by farmland and fields as far as the eye can see. There’s no landmarks or street signs to tell me where I am. But, maybe if all these other people are okay with taking this route, they might know another way to go. I’ll just follow the cars. Surely someone knows their way around the vast state of Texas. Eventually we’ll find a main highway and I’ll take it north and I’ll be fine.
I swallow back my fears and sit up straight, gripping the steering wheel like my life depends on it.
I’ll be okay. I’ll just have to figure out where to go from here.
Chapter 10
A loud tapping on my driver’s side window jolts me from sleep. I sit up, blinking against the harsh sunlight that’s pouring into my car. It’s also hot as hell in here. The tapping continues.
I look over and see a short older woman waving at me. I look around and remember where I am. I can’t believe I fell asleep.
This Walmart parking lot is filled with people now, just a few hours after I arrived early this morning. I turn on my truck so I can roll down the window and see what this lady wants.
“Hi,” I say.
“Good mornin’! You were gonna burn up in there if you didn’t wake up soon.” She nods eagerly at me, and I get the feeling she’d probably been watching me for a while now. “We got some breakfast cooking over in that blue RV. Why don’t you come get you some?”
I look in the direction she points and see a blue RV. It’s ancient, probably from the seventies, and the original outside of the thing has been painted a bright baby blue color. It was clearly painted by an amateur, and with paint that probably isn’t meant for vehicles. But there’s people mulling around, and a grill in front of it being manned by an equally old man.
“Sounds good,” I say. I’m too far away from home, too hungry, too hot, and too sick of being in this situation to worry about accepting food from a stranger. Plus, she seems nice enough.
“Wonderful,” she says, showing me a wrinkly grin.
I roll up my window and point the air conditioning right at my face while I check my phone. My last message from Ella was when we agreed to set off for this Walmart, several hours ago. I made it here with no problem, didn’t see her car, and must have fallen asleep waiting for her.
She’s probably here now, looking for me. I turn off the truck and get out, putting an Astros baseball cap on to shield the bright morning sunlight from my sleepy eyes.
Since I arrived, more people have showed up. I see some news vans near the entrance, and police trucks handing out bottled water to people who wait in line. Looks like this place has become some sort of staging area for all the people who are displaced from evacuating.
There’s lots of people grilling food or handing out snacks. You can tell who lives in the area and showed up to help and who is only here because they’re evacuating. We look weary and exhausted and like we haven’t showered in two days. The volunteers have bright smiles and clean clothes.
Man, I love Texas. Everyone really comes together for people.
I call Ella as I walk toward the blue RV, but her phone goes to voicemail. She probably won’t get this any time soon, but I leave her a message anyway. “Hey babe. I’m here at Walmart. It’s crazy busy, but I’ll find you wherever you are. I’m parked a few spaces away from this bright blue RV. You can’t miss it. Love you.”
I hang up and get ambushed by the old lady again. She hands me a paper plate and fills it with scrambled eggs, pancakes, and bacon.
“Wow,” I say as she gives me a plastic fork. “Thank you.”
She pats my back and then moves on to feed other people. I’m anxious to find my girlfriend, but my stomach is growling and I haven’t eaten in forever, so I shovel food in my mouth as I walk around looking for her. A lot of people have set up tents and canopies to crash here overnight. I wonder if all the hotels are booked by now.
Someone has a radio playing, and I hear an update on the storm. It’s still supposed to make landfall in two days, and right now it’s the biggest hurricane we’ve had in over a hundred years. They’ve expanded the mandatory evacuation zones and now people are getting stranded on the interstate because it’s too packed. Apparently on some parts of the highways, they’ve opened up both sides of the road, making all southbound lanes go northbound. That way everyone can get out, and no one is allowed to go back until after the storm passes.
This is some crazy shit. I’m so glad my parents are at the hotel and safe. I try calling them, but of course the lines are all blocked and no calls get through. I send Mom a text though, and maybe she’ll get it.
I finish my food and accept a cold bottle of water from a police officer.
I walk through the parking lot looking for Ella’s car. It’s a huge lot, because this isn’t just a Wal-Mart. There’s a Sam’s Club and a shopping center too, so the parking spaces stretch on forever.
I make a plan to start at one end and walk to the other, but to go through the places right in front of the Wal-Mart first, since that’s where we agreed to meet.
She probably got here early in the morning and fell asleep like I did. I tell myself to stay calm and alert and just walk until I find her.
Anytime I see someone official looking, I ask if they have a sat phone I can use. No one does. People are in pretty good spirits, despite being parked
at a store. Kids play around the cars, chasing each other or playing catch. I bet they enjoy getting out of the car for a while. Parents eat and relax and talk with each other about the best places to find a hotel.
I see a few elderly people looking miserable in their wheelchairs and it makes me feel like shit. This kind of thing isn’t easy on everyone. I go back to the police truck and get a few bottles of cold water and bring it to an old man in a wheelchair who doesn’t seem to have any family around. He smiles and thanks me, and I still feel awful. But I need to find Ella right now.
I probably smell like ten junior high locker rooms put together with how much I’m sweating right now. There may be a huge storm in the Gulf, but here on dry land, it’s scorching hot. I wipe the sweat from my brow and make my way toward the very end of the parking lot. There are cars everywhere but none of them are Ella’s.
I’ve been calling and texting her this whole time, to no avail, and now my phone is dying. Defeated, I turn around and head back to my truck so I can charge my phone. The whole time I’m scanning for Ella’s car, studying every girl that walks by in case it’s her, listening to every voice in case I hear her talking. But she’s nowhere to be found.
I try to think happy thoughts, like maybe she made it to the hotel and I just haven’t gotten her texts that tell me so. But even that doesn’t make sense because we made a plan to meet here. She wouldn’t just go against the plan. I feel this clawing in my gut, this unease that’s slowly eating me alive. Ella’s parents are counting on me to keep their daughter safe. And I’ve failed them this whole time.
I get back to my truck and unlock the door. A girlish shriek sounds just behind me. “Oh my God! Ethan!”
I whip around, my heart wanting something that my brain already knows isn’t true. I don’t want to admit it, but I know whose voice that is.
“Ethan!” She throws her arms around my neck and presses her body tightly to mine, not caring about the sweat or the heat or the fact that we haven’t spoken to each other in months. “Oh, Ethan. I’m so glad I found you.”
I pull back from her embrace. “Kennedy. What are you doing here?”
My ex-girlfriend brushes her hair back and gives me that eye-twinkling smile. It looks a little off because she’s not wearing makeup and she looks just as exhausted as I am. She throws her arms up. “I’m stranded. What does it look like?”
“Where’s your family?” I ask. I’m not exactly in the mood to see Mr. and Mrs. Price, who never liked me anyway and really didn’t like when I broke up with their girlfriend.
Kennedy bursts into tears. I’d feel bad except, well, it’s Kennedy. She’s really good at this fake crying thing. “They’re in freaking Ireland! It’s their stupid anniversary trip they make every year, and I’m stuck here and I had to evacuate and none of my friends could take me with them and—” She takes a ragged breath and for one second I think maybe she’s not faking the tears as much as it looks like. “And, and then my damn car broke down!” She throws her arm behind her and points, which I guess is the direction where her car is.
“You have a brand new car,” I say.
“I know! Stupid piece of shit. It overheated. I’ve been stuck here since yesterday. Can’t get ahold of my parents or my friends or anyone.”
“Wow,” I say. Kennedy might be a total bitch but that does suck.
She throws her arms around me again. “Oh, Ethan. I’m so glad I found you. I was going crazy all by myself.”
She buries her face into my chest, and I stand here, arms at my sides. I’ll admit, part of me feels a little bad for her. She’s in a sucky situation, and being stranded without a car isn’t good. But, did she forget we aren’t dating? That we’re pretty much enemies now? I guess this kind of stress can make you forget all of that.
Still, I’m not about to hug her back when my girlfriend could walk up at any minute.
Kennedy pulls away after what feels like ages. She wipes the tears from her eyes. “I’ve been trying so hard to get ahold of my parents but the phones aren’t working here in Texas, so they really aren’t working overseas, ya know? I did get some Wi-Fi signal in the Wal-Mart McDonald’s, so I sent them an email and I’m waiting to hear back.
My eyes light up. The store has Wi-Fi. I’ll use it to try to contact Ella, if I don’t find her soon.
“Do you have gas?” Kennedy asks. She pulls open my truck door and looks up at me.
“Yeah, almost a full tank. Why?”
Her million dollar smile lights up. “Perfect! Let’s hit the road and find a hotel in Dallas.”
“You don’t already have a hotel?” I ask. Kennedy’s family has money. I figured she would already have a five star suite waiting for her.
She shrugs. “I don’t know how to evacuate, Ethan! I just did what the news told me to do. I left my house and drove north and got stuck here. Now let’s go. I’m so sick of this parking lot and I want to get to a hotel and shower and sleep. I have my credit card. I can pay for everything.”
“I’m not leaving right now,” I say. “And you’re not coming with me.”
Fear flashes in her gaze. “Ethan! You have to take me with you. I’m stranded!”
“Kennedy…” I sigh and run my hands through my hair, tugging at the ends just so I can feel something that’s not resentment. “Ella will be here any minute and then we’re going to a hotel with my family.”
“I don’t care,” she says, but her lip curls in a way that means she does care. “I can’t just live in a Walmart parking lot with a broken car, Ethan. I don’t have anyone else. Please don’t leave me here. Please.”
I take a deep breath. If she were anyone else I even vaguely knew, I’d be happily offering them a ride. But she’s not anyone else. She’s my horrible ex-girlfriend who did some pretty shitty things to my current girlfriend.
And, that current girlfriend should be here any minute. What will Ella say?
It’s the thought of her that gives me my answer. Ella is a kind, sweet, person. She doesn’t like Kennedy, but she wouldn’t want to leave her stranded. She’ll probably hate every second of it, but she would tell me to help Kennedy because we’re good people and that’s what good people do.
I let out the breath I’d been holding.
“Fine,” I say. “Get in the damn truck.”
Chapter 11
Gas shortages are a terrifying thing. I’ve been driving all morning and most gas stations have put up big signs saying they’re out of gas. Some are limiting it to five gallons per car in an effort spread around the meager supply.
After my planned turn was blocked and I was forced to turn left, I’ve been traveling west for hours, trying to make turns north every chance I get. I figure I’ll eventually get north enough to be able to turn east and find De Sota. At least, that’s what I’m hoping. I’m not exactly a navigator or an expert on Texas geography.
My swollen left hand has gone down to almost its normal size. Now there’s a small purple bruise where the bug bite had been. I’m very, very lucky that it went away so quickly. This morning the swelling was so huge I was terrified. Now I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay.
It’s almost noon and I drive past a gas station with a big silver angel sitting in the parking lot. Well, it’s not an angel in the holy being with wings sense, but it is a tanker filled with fuel ready to fill up the station’s gas pumps. People are already waiting in line, and my car is almost on empty so I jump in line, too. They let us fill our tanks up, and when the manager sees that I’m traveling alone, he also lets me refill the extra gas jug in the back of my car. I’m glad Ethan thought to bring those because it’s what got me to this point after I ran out of gas this morning.
I get back on the road and follow the street signs to the next small town. I’m in a relatively populated part of the state now. It’s still farms and fields for miles, but the towns are a little bigger and I don’t feel quite so alone. I keep checking my phone hoping for the signal to come back. The Welcome to the City of Blackwe
ll sign I just passed said they have a population of nine thousand. Surely those people have cell phones that get signal.
I let out a whoop when my phone lights up. All the messages I missed when I didn’t have signal just came in all at once.
Not wanting to get in a wreck, I drive a little further until I find a coffee shop that advertises free Wi-Fi. I pull over and flip through all my new messages, feeling a wave of relief at having my technology back again. How the people of the old days survived without phones, I’ll never know.
There’s a ton of messages from April, who tells me that Toby decided to ditch his family and evacuate with her and her family. Now he’s with April and her mom and six siblings. Wow. That’s either true love or insanity. Toby is a good guy, I guess. I’m happy for him. As much as I hate being alone, it’s better than being stuck with so many kids.
I want to text her back but I’m anxious to see Ethan’s texts, and I wonder if he made it to our meeting point.
Ethan: I’m here! Didn’t take long at all.
Ethan: I can’t find you… you must be still driving. Be safe!
Ethan: You’re probably not getting any of these. But I’m bored so…
Ethan: Shit, I fell asleep. Are you here yet?
Ethan: Are you getting any of these?
My heart sinks. He made it and he’s worried about me. My phone notifies me that I have a new voicemail from Ethan, but I skip down to read my other texts before I listen to it.
Mom: How are you doing? Can’t wait for this crap to be over! I love you!
Dad: Stay safe, Punk. I love you.