by AJ Rose
“Waiting for one with your name on it?” Elliot asked with a smile.
“I’m looking for one of the sections closer to the river. Figured we could top up the water supply while we can.”
“Already?” Brian asked.
“No harm in being prepared if we’ve got the room to spare, right?” Ash pointed out.
“We left Auburn?” Russ chimed in.
“We’re going to find you a place to rest, okay, Russ?” Ash asked. “Somewhere you can lie down properly and let the Advil you’ve taken get on top of that headache.”
“How’d you know I had a headache?” Russ asked, relief in his tone.
“It’s written all over your face, buddy,” Ash said, eyeing the rearview mirror.
“Russ, baby, you’re going to be okay,” Charlotte said behind him, the first words she’d spoken since Elliot had awoken. “We’ll find you somewhere to lie down.”
He frowned at her. “Are… you okay, Char? Why do I get the feeling you need to lie down, too?”
She attempted a smile for his benefit, patting his arm and urging him to face forward. “It’s been a crap night, so we could all use a good rest.”
They found a cluster of campsites beside the river that satisfied Ash, and once they chose a site, one of the large ones nearest the water, Ash showed Elliot and Brian how to erect their tents. They were said to assemble in three minutes, though it took the group considerably longer to get them up, this being their first time. Still, with sleeping bags unrolled and the promise of sleep for much of the group, it wasn’t long before it was just Elliot and Brian sitting at the picnic table beside the cold ring of stones delineating the fire pit. Ash had taken a still-groggy Riley into his tent after getting his sister and her boyfriend bedded down.
“We’ll have to wake Russ in an hour,” Elliot murmured, resting his chin on his forearms on the table.
“Yeah, that’s not a good situation.” Brian looked off through the trees toward the water, which, thanks to the cloudy sky, wasn’t glistening brightly. The morning was chilly, but not unbearably so, and Elliot wondered if he and Brian shouldn’t try for some shuteye, too. Ash had consulted with Charlotte once they’d gotten Russ settled, and from what Elliot overheard, they knew what was going on. Russ’s head injury was potentially more serious than first suspected.
“Ash said Charlotte had taken nursing classes, so she might know what to look for to help him. Perhaps just a little bit of TLC and time will be all he needs.” Elliot was hopeful, mainly because he didn’t want to consider the alternative. Out here in the woods with no access to medical help, it wasn’t promising if Russ had bigger issues. Not that it would be promising if they’d been on the doorstep of the best hospital in all of Pennsylvania. Elliot could only imagine the state of those places with the injured and sick.
“Let’s hope. How are you doing? Totally freaked out? Because I am.”
Elliot shrugged. “I guess I’m still expecting someone to jump out and yell April Fools. Wishful thinking, huh?” He traced the wood grain of the picnic table, not wanting to voice his next words, but knowing he couldn’t put it off. “You know, now would be a good time to call my dad.”
Brian frowned. “You want me to grab the sat phone? Or you want to sit here in peace a little longer?”
Elliot lifted his head and leveled Brian with a look. “Better to rip off the Band-Aid. Let’s get this over with.”
Brian disappeared into the remaining tent for the pack he’d tossed on his sleeping bag and came back with the heavy duty phone, the number for Steven Davenport already called up. All that remained was for Elliot to press send and open his mouth.
“Elliot?” his father’s voice cut through the chirp of birds and quiet.
“Hello, Dad.”
“Are you safe? How is McGinn treating you?”
Elliot gulped. “We, uh, haven’t called him. Something happ—”
“What?” Steven barked. “Son, I specifically told you where to go and who to contact. Why in the world would you ignore that?”
His cheeks heated, and he pointlessly turned away from Brian. “Because there was an intruder, Dad. Charlotte was—”
“Are you all right?” Steven cut in, his worry clear.
“Yes, we’re all, er, I’m fine. Brian’s fine, too. But there wasn’t time to consider every angle, and—”
“What’s to consider?” Steven interrupted again. “I gave you the contact information for someone in charge of the disaster plans, someone who could keep you safe and see to your needs, and you just, what, blew me off? And what time did you need? A phone call takes minutes at most. Enough time to tell Deputy Commander McGinn who you are and where to find you. And wait.”
“Dad, I didn’t want to go to a military base.”
There was a beat of silence, though if disapproval had a frequency, this call transmitted it. “Didn’t want to,” Steven repeated.
“It’s not what’s best for me right now,” Elliot said, finally swallowing his nerves. He was pleased at how steady he sounded. “I am with a very knowledgeable group of people who have a good shot at getting us across the country and into the West, where they know someone who will take us in and let us stay for however long it takes to resolve this crisis.”
“Let me tell you what I ‘don’t want,’” Steven said, tone heavy with censure. “I don’t want to hear my only son and the successor to Davenport Oil has become a casualty of a nationwide crisis the likes of which we’ve never seen in the entire history of the United States. I don’t want to tell your mother you aren’t exactly where I know to find you. I don’t want you to have another seizure without access to immediate medical care should you need it. Now, you hang up this phone, dial the number I gave you, and get yourself to safety, Elliot.”
“Or what?” Elliot asked defiantly while his insides rattled around like a skyscraper in an earthquake. “You have told me all my life to stand by my decisions. ‘Be decisive, Elliot. People don’t follow the weak.’”
“No, they don’t,” Steven bit out. “They also don’t follow the dead.”
Something in Elliot disconnected, and knowledge the likes of which he’d never experienced before when it came to his father spilled through his brain like thick paint. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, he’d never be someone his father respected if he didn’t make his position known in this moment.
“I’m doing as I see fit.” He sat straighter and turned, his gaze connecting with Brian’s, who nodded his encouragement. “The military will be dealing with more than two hundred million displaced people. They are not prepared for the numbers requiring their help. They will be overwhelmed and reliant on temporary housing for survivors. They will be facing years of instability, and there are no guarantees the shelter you want me to find is safer than where I’m planning to go with Ash and his family.” He softened his tone, but only just. “You aren’t here, Dad. You can’t see the signs of desperation as people realize this is bigger than a few days without Google and cold beer. If I have any chance whatsoever of living safely, it has to be somewhere with access to neurologists in a fully functioning medical facility, not some field hospital in upstate New York. That is stress I don’t need. So I’m going to risk a few days on the road, with a van full of food and shelter and other emergency supplies, so I can get somewhere where I can let go of the fear the next riot is going to be the one that puts me in a grave.”
There was silence on the line, though Elliot could hear his father breathing. It went on so long, he feared he’d given the man reason to turn him out for good, the last disappointment in twenty years of disappointment in his son. Brian grabbed his hand and held on when his doubt got too big to conceal, and just as he opened his mouth to apologize and try to mitigate whatever damage he might have caused, his dad spoke.
“Is Brian with you?”
“He’s right here.”
“And he’s in agreement with your course of action?”
Elliot nodded as tho
ugh Steven could see it, then said, “He is.”
“What of this Ash boy? How can I trust he’ll take proper responsibility for your safety?”
Elliot swallowed, lowering his eyes so Brian wouldn’t see too much. “He has survival skills learned from his father, who was a marine. We are going to the home of a retired marine, who has given Ash coordinates to follow. We are well stocked with food and water, medical supplies, protection, and shelter. We have everything we need to reach Seattle in a few days, and we have more of a head start going west than anyone else. Of everyone I know, I trust Ash most to get us there in one piece.”
“But how can you be—”
“Dad, either you trust me now, or you never will. But,” he swallowed audibly. “I don’t exactly need your blessing to do this my way. I’m not going to some army base somewhere to sleep on a cot and hope they don’t run out of food or my medicine. I’m going to Seattle, and I’ll call you when I get there.”
Steven heaved a big sigh, and Elliot pictured him pinching his nose in frustration. “You damn well better call me every day until you get there. I will not be left in the dark about your progress, and if I can arrange it, I will send you an escort.”
There was no point in saying if Ash was right, there weren’t enough personnel in the armed services to spare a team dedicated to seeing six people across the country. His father, for the first time in his life, was letting Elliot do what he thought was right.
“Okay. Try not to worry.”
There was a pause, then, “Your mother and I will be arriving in California later than expected. All public transportation is being carefully monitored, especially flights. Should be tomorrow. Once you’re in an area with power, and travel is easier, I’ll have someone bring you to the condo. If your friends get you that far, I will see to it they arrive at their destination, this retired marine’s home, as well. I will be in their debt.”
“Thank you.” Elliot swallowed the lump in his throat.
“Please let me speak to Brian,” Steven requested, his tone gentler than Elliot had ever heard it.
“I love you,” Elliot said by way of signing off, then passed the phone to Brian.
Not bothering to stick around and listen to Brian getting an earful about filling Elliot’s head with delusions of invincibility, he stood and walked to the far end of their campsite, looking out over the water to the other side of the river. Were they the only ones in the entire park? Was there another group of campers, just as scared, just as determined to survive as they were? Elliot sat in the grass, ignoring the damp that seeped through his clothes. The shakes hit him, and his teeth chattered until he clamped his jaw tight.
What had he done? Had his defiance ruined the balance of his relationship with his father? Did he really have the balls to back up everything he’d said? Was he strong enough to see this through, regardless of Steven Davenport’s approval or lack thereof? Everything he’d said was true, but suddenly, standing behind his decision seemed like a fool’s choice, grandstanding at a time when it was least advised.
He’s not here. He can’t see how dangerous this can be.
It was true. Unless he was in it, facing the potential destruction in panic-ridden cities, the deterioration of polite society into a morass of survival-of-the-fittest where the strongest, most selfish would come out on top, he couldn’t know. The fear, if Elliot let it, would swallow him whole, and he’d be useless.
Keep busy. Take care of our group, and maybe we can see each other through.
He returned to the semi-circle of their tents to hear the last words of Brian’s conversation with his dad.
“You have my word. Whatever happens, I won’t leave him.”
They disconnected moments later, and Elliot moved to alert Brian to his presence so as not to startle him. Brian turned and smiled, his expression almost proud.
“It’s about time.”
“What?” Elliot asked, playing dumb.
“Standing up to him.”
“Oh, well….” He shrugged and trailed off. “I just hope he doesn’t get to say I told you so when all this is said and done.”
“While I can’t discount the possibility, an ‘I told you so’ in this situation won’t matter much in the end, will it?” Brian stood and stretched. “You did the right thing, and maybe now, he’ll see you’re capable of more than good grades and give you a little credit.”
Hope filled Elliot’s chest. “Kind of stupid, wanting his approval in the face of… things.”
“Nah,” Brian said, gathering a few bits of wood strewn around the site. “His opinion matters to you. That’s not a bad thing. But you’re not letting it dictate what you think is best anymore. If ever there was a time for you to take the reins, this is it.”
The creep of a smile Elliot felt couldn’t be suppressed, so he ducked his head and helped scour for more wood, turning back to the edge of the water and sliding down a small embankment. There were several pieces of driftwood along the muddy beach, and while some of it looked too wet to burn, a few pieces were dry enough. Dragging a large branch to the edge of their little clearing, Elliot dropped it to the ground, considering the best way to get it into manageable chunks. Gripping an offshoot for leverage, he stomped on the end, using the ground to bend the limb beyond the breaking point. It was dry enough to crack loudly and splinter, so he kept working it until it was in pieces small enough to fit in the fire ring. Even if it was too warm for a fire now, they’d need something to burn for making food later.
Brian helped him stack the pieces on the growing pile of wood, then clapped him on the shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s check on Russ and get some rest. We can try to catch some fish for dinner afterward.”
What they found was not encouraging at all.
Elliot hesitated at the door to Ash and Riley’s tent, not sure how to keep from disturbing the boy. It wasn’t like he could knock.
“Ash?” he rasped, settling for rattling the zipper. Ash would be enough on edge, the sound might wake him. Unless he’d passed out completely as soon as he’d lain down. “Ash, we have a problem.”
The zipper on the outside was suddenly ripped out of Elliot’s hand, and the gap in the tent flap revealed a disheveled Ash, his eyes bleary. He didn’t pause there, instead climbing out of the enclosure and zipping it behind him before Riley could be disturbed.
“What’s wrong?” His voice was rusty.
“It’s Russ,” Elliot said, wringing his hands. “I just checked. Charlotte can’t wake him.”
Ash wasted no time, barreling into the two-person tent containing his sister and her boyfriend, whether there was room for him or not. “Charlotte, get me a flashlight.”
Elliot backed out of her way as she scrambled out of the tent and rummaged in the van’s glove box, coming back with a small light and passing it in to her brother. She didn’t reenter the tent, so Elliot put a clumsy arm around her shoulders to offer comfort. He guessed when she leaned into him, she didn’t care where it came from, and considering what they’d lived through the night before, he had more right to try and reassure her than he’d had the day before.
“Shit,” Ash cursed, stepping into the open air once more. “One of his pupils is blown.”
“Oh god, what do we do?” Charlotte asked, terrified.
“Lemme think,” Ash said, knuckling his forehead and pacing. “Charlotte, you’re the one who was gonna be a nurse. What would a doctor do in this situation?”
“I only had a few classes!”
“Yeah, but you know more than I do. Think.”
“Shit, okay.” She mirrored Ash’s pacing, gnawing on a fingernail in concentration. “He’d go for a scan so they could see what happened and where.”
“So we take him to a hospital?” Elliot asked tentatively.
Ash leveled him with a look. “We can’t. Hospitals are going to be dangerous by now, overrun and understaffed, and a lot of them, especially small town hospitals, may have already run out of fuel for their genera
tors. Gas pumps are mostly electric these days, so even if there’s plenty in the tanks at the Stop-N-Go, there won’t be any way to get to it.”
Charlotte bristled. “At least taking him to a hospital will give someone else the chance to look him over. I’m not a nurse, Ash.”
“While we’re standing here having this argument, Russ is getting worse. What do we do, Charlotte?”
Her pacing intensified, each turn becoming more emphatic. “Well, I think it’s a good bet he’s bleeding in his head. So there are a couple things they might do. Surgery to release the pressure on his brain or medicine to get it to stop.”
“We can’t perform brain surgery, Char,” Ash said gently, grabbing her elbow to stop her frantic steps. “What kind of medicine?”
“I don’t know!” she cried.
“What about one of your seizure pills, El?” Ash asked.
Elliot shook his head. “One of the side effects is reduced platelets, so that would make a bleed worse. Plus, they’re a taper drug. You have to build up and back off the dosage because drastic changes cause bigger issues. So we go to the nearest town to a pharmacy and see if we can find something better,” he suggested.
“I don’t know.” Ash hesitated. “I’m betting pharmacies are looting targets.”
“Well, get out your goddamned map and find the nearest town!” Charlotte snarled. “It’s worth a try!”
“I’ll stay here with Riley and Russ,” Brian offered. “You three can go and not worry the kid.”
“Let’s go,” Ash ordered, already striding to the van. “I don’t know what we’re walking into, but we can’t just sit here and do nothing.” There was a bit of confusion when both Elliot and Charlotte made for the front passenger seat, but Elliot acquiesced quickly, crawling into the middle.
The town of Warren, Pennsylvania, was the epitome of small, and there were no people in sight. The preternatural quiet didn’t bode well, but Elliot remained hopeful they’d find something useful.
“Grocery stores have pharmacies, too,” he reminded Ash as they passed a dark Walmart.
“First places to be raided, remember?” Ash gritted out, his eyes narrowed on the buildings in the distance. “But I see something.”