Solar Storm: Season 1 [Aftermath Episodes 1-5]

by Richardson, Marcus

“We live in Todd and Linda's house. They left…we’ve always thought of them as friends. We had their spare key…so…”

  “Did you find any food?”

  Maria nodded, looking at the floor to avoid Jay's eyes. “It felt like stealing from the dead, but we found food. At least enough to get us by.” She looked up. “But we’re almost out again and I don't know what we're going to do. I was walking around looking to see if anyone was left—” Her words tumbled one over the next.

  “Or if anyone left something behind?” interjected Leah.

  “Sí…” muttered Maria. She glared at Leah and tossed her unruly hair over one shoulder. “I will do whatever it takes to keep my baby safe.” She narrowed her eyes, as if daring Leah to challenge her words.

  “Clearly,” muttered Thom.

  Jay cleared his throat before Maria could turn on the college student. “Is there any kind of government response around here? Any FEMA camps or anything? We’d heard…”

  Maria shook her head and the tangled, dark curls danced over her shoulders, depositing a leaf on the sofa behind her. “A man came through in an army truck about two days ago, telling everyone to head north. He said they’re setting up a refugee camp in Peoria by the river. They're trying to get everyone who's willing to head toward Chicago, I think.”

  “Toward Chicago?” asked Thom.

  “That seems to be the wrong direction…” agreed Leah. “From what we’ve seen, the big cities are not where you want to be.”

  “It is if that is where they bring the food,” snapped Maria. She closed her eyes, smoothed her pants, and began again. “It is not really a camp anyway…more like…what did he call it? A way station.”

  “Way station?” asked Jay, rubbing his chin.

  Maria shrugged. “That is what he said.”

  “Are you going?” asked Leah.

  Maria stared out the window. “There is nothing for us here. We are almost out of food and…José, his leg is better now, so I think we can walk it. But when I saw your car…”

  "What happened to José's truck?" asked Jay.

  Maria looked down again. "The people who tried to break in…the ones who hurt him. They stole it—along with most of our things. All our photo albums, baby pictures of Esteban…" she mumbled, her eyes watering up.

  Leah frowned. Why would looters take baby pictures? Why are you telling us this?

  Jay turned back to stare out the window. “I don't know what we can do to help you, Maria.” He looked back at Leah. “I'm more than willing to share what food and supplies we have here with you and José and Esteban, but we don’t have much.”

  Leah sighed. She didn’t want to agree with her father, but he was right—as usual. There was no point in casting blame. The world where blame still mattered was long gone. She nodded and reached across the charred coffee table to take Maria's hands in her own.

  “We'll do whatever we can to help, Maria.”

  Maria rattled off something in Spanish, bobbing her head up and down while she cried. “You are too kind—God will surely bless you. We deserve nothing…”

  “Don't say that,” Leah said, fighting the urge not cry. “There's no good or bad anymore…everything is horrible. No one's ever been through something like this, so we've all got to figure out how to get through it together.”

  Maria looked up and smiled, then shook her head. “Where is Kate?”

  Jay sat down on the sofa and sighed. “She was on a flight to Hawaii when…”

  Maria gasped and embrace Jay in a hug. “Jay…I am so sorry…” she blubbered.

  Leah’s dad looked at her with pleading eyes and raised his hands awkwardly before patting Maria on the back. “It's…” He closed his eyes and scrunched his face.

  Leah knew he wanted to cry but couldn’t, not in front of Maria. Not now.

  “God, what are we gonna do?” she asked no one in particular.

  Leah's father disentangled himself from Maria and leaned back against the sofa, rubbing one hand across his forehead. He closed his eyes and sighed again.

  “I don't know. But one thing's for certain, we can't stay in this neighborhood any longer. If everyone's running out of food and water, it won't be long before people try to take everything someone else has.”

  “Oh, they already try…” Maria said. “After the third night, there is always someone shooting a gun off somewhere. I am too afraid to let José go very far. He says he has seen things he can not unsee.” She looked around. “He saw dead bodies," she intoned, crossing herself. "Can you imagine?”

  “Yes,” Leah, Thom, and Hunter said in unison.

  Maria blinked.

  “We’ve all seen some terrible things out there,” Jay added. “If we're going to find a way to survive, we'll need knowledge. Right now the only person I know who has that knowledge isn’t here.”

  “Mac,” Leah whispered.

  “That's right,” replied her father.

  Maria licked her lips. “So what will you do? We will go to the FEMA camp. You can come with us!” she blurted. “With your car we can all get there—”

  “No,” Jay said with finality not heard in that house before. “I'm taking that car, and taking these kids, and we're leaving.”

  "Where?" asked Maria.

  Leah looked at her father. She heard Mac's voice almost screaming in her head to tell Maria anything but the truth.

  "The library," Jay said.

  Hunter laughed. “Dude, what are you smoking and where can I get some? It’s the end of the world, man! The library is the last place we need to go.”

  “I think I'm with him on this one,” Thom said, jerking a thumb at Hunter. “The library, Mr. C? Seriously?”

  Leah blinked and looked at her father. Jay stood by the window, watching her, an expectant look on his face.

  “I know where you’re going with this…” she breathed. Her father smiled.

  “Books…knowledge is power, right?” Leah asked, looking from Maria to Hunter to Thom.

  Hunter shook his head. “Knowledge was power before lights went out, man."

  "So think about what that means now.”

  Leah stood and stepped away from the sofa. “I bet there's books at the library on…on everything we need to know!”

  “Oh yeah? They got books on how to snap your fingers and make gas appear out of thin air?” asked Thom.

  Hunter snapped his fingers and called out, “Give me some buds, man—not that Arizona homebrew shit either, I'm talking some Acapulco Gold!”

  “No," laughed Leah, “something even better. I bet there's books on…I don't even know what to call it…” She turned with her hands up, seeking help from her father.

  “Homesteading,” Jay said with quiet authority. “Country living, backpacking, camping, living off the land—call it whatever you want—even survivalism,” he said with a look at Maria.

  “It all boils down to the same thing: How to stay alive with what you have. Even the Boy Scout manual would come in handy right about now.” He looked around at the dirty, hopeful faces peering back at him. “Does anybody know how to start a fire?”

  Maria flinched at the word.

  “I mean one we can control and cook over,” Jay added.

  Leah watched everyone shook their heads. "We hadn't even gotten that far back in the dorm," she admitted. "All we did was collect food and water and…"

  "It's fine, honey. I don't know either. And you kids did a great job surviving. Don't question yourself on that. Ever."

  “You made it all the way to campus and rescued us,” Hunter said, “that's not too bad at surviving, man. Even if you like, didn't know how to start a fire."

  Jay shook his head. “That was different, Hunter,” he said motioning with one of his bandaged hands. “I got lucky…really lucky. I made a lot of stupid mistakes. But Mac—”

  Jay hesitated and shot a glance at Leah.

  Wow. Mac’s talks are rubbing off on you. You don't want to tell her we have that radio. Leah let th
e corner of her mouth curl up. Kate would be proud of you, Dad.

  “Señor McKinnon, Jay?" asked Maria.

  Jay turned away. “Mac told me what to look for.” He glanced over his shoulder at his neighbor. “I think I can find books we need to tell us the rest.”

  Maria stood and dusted off her jeans. “Well…if you will not help us, I will go home. We have a long walk ahead of us,” she said with a sullen tone in her voice.

  “Maria, it's not that we don't want to help—”

  “Please, Jay. It is okay—I would not expect you to help us after…I saw that black truck and thought maybe someone from the government comes back…” She shrugged.

  Jay ushered Maria to the front door and Leah turned to face the other students.

  “Is he serious?” Thom asked.

  Hunter snapped his fingers again. “Weed!”

  “Oh, knock it off,” Thom muttered.

  “Not only do I think he's serious, I think it's a really good idea. Look…” Leah whispered as Jay and Maria said farewell on the porch, their words muffled by distance.

  “Now that she knows we're here—and that we have a car—what do you think will happen?”

  Thom frowned. “Oh, shit…you think they’ll try and take it?”

  Hunter sat up suddenly deadly serious. “If not her, somebody else she talks to will, man.”

  Leah turned when she heard the front door swing shut.

  Jay walked into the room like a man who’d just run over the neighbor’s dog. “Maria keeps watching the house as she's walking away. I think we’re going to have people trying to 'borrow',” he said, making air quotes, “our car to get to that FEMA camp.”

  Butterflies fluttered to life and made Leah's stomach churn. “I don't think we should stay here very long,” she said. “I mean, I know you want to stay and wait for Kate, but…”

  Jay shook his head. “No, you're right. I want to stay, but…she's not coming,” he said, closing his eyes. “It's been too long, there's just too much distance and too much that’s gone bad out there.” He sighed. “There's no way she can make it. Besides, she would want me to get you to safety…wherever that is.”

  Leah stood and stepped next to her father. She placed a hand on his arm and whispered, “I'm sorry, Dad.”

  Without looking, he placed one bandaged hand over hers and squeezed. “It's okay, priya. I've kind of known all along, I just didn't want to admit it to myself until now. But seeing how Maria was looking at the car…I know how desperate someone can be when they're trying to do what's right for their child.” He turned and looked at her.

  “I will do anything to protect you, priya. Anything.”

  The hard edge of his voice sent a small shiver down Leah's leg. Her father, one of the most peaceful men she’d ever known, really meant what he said. There was something about his expression, something about the way his eyes looked. He’s changed. The whole world had changed, she supposed, but Jay Cantrell, the rock of her life, the unflappable, unshakable man who'd anchored her soul after her mother died…he'd changed more than anyone.

  “So, like, what’s the game plan, man?” asked Hunter.

  “Well,” said Jay, rubbing his hand over the week-old stubble on his chin, ”I wanted to take our time and find whatever supplies we can scrounge up here before we head to the library…” He looked back out the window.

  “But I have a bad feeling about this. I think we need to grab what we can and head over to the library as soon as possible.”

  “If nobody went through Kate's camping stuff, there might be a lot of useful things down there in the basement,” said Leah.

  “Don't I know it. I would've killed to have some of that freeze-dried food of hers when I was out on the road.” Jay looked back out the window.

  Something about the way Jay set his jaw when he finished speaking made Leah realize he told the brutal truth. He would have killed.

  “I don’t see Maria anymore," Hunter said.

  "We should get anything we can out of the basement."

  "I hate to rain on anybody's parade here," Thom said. "But have you looked at the basement door?" He leaned around the corner. "I mean, there's a ton of shit in front of it—looks like timbers or something."

  Jay grimaced. "It's going to take us a while to get through that mess."

  "Yeah—if we had axes or something. With just our hands? I think it'll take us days to dig through that rubble."

  "Bummer," said Hunter, looking over Thom's shoulder at the basement door.

  Leah looked between the charred beams resting against the blackened door and the window. "If we spend too much time screwing around with the basement door…"

  "Going into the basement will take too much time," Jay declared. "It's just not worth the risk. I think Maria isn't going very far and I don't want to get into a fight with our neighbors.” He turned to face the little ragtag group of survivors.

  “I think our best course of action is to grab what we can find and go to the library right now.”

  “And then on to Michigan?” asked Thom.

  “Right,” said Jay. “Once we get to the library, I’ll contact Mac and let him know what's going on.” Jay checked his watch. “Well, he might not be listening this early in the afternoon. We may have to wait until tonight and call somewhere on the road.”

  Leah shook her head. “Dad, I don't like the idea of spending the night on the road again.”

  “Trust me, I bknow what you mean,” he replied. “But we’ll be warmer than spending the night in our house, sweetie. Look around, we’re practically camping right here in the living room. At least with the car, we can run the heat most of the night while we drive.”

  “Assuming we don't run out of gas somewhere,” muttered Hunter.

  “Well, we made it all the way from Brookville, didn't we?” asked Thom.

  “I guess,” replied Hunter. He crossed his arms. “But we're almost on fumes."

  "We have a little over a quarter tank left," added Jay.

  "Either way," replied Hunter, "this place give me a major case of the creeps, you know?”

  Jay nodded. "Okay, everybody grab what you can find, and let's high-tail it for the library." He pointed at Thom. "You take the shotgun and keep an eye on the car. That thing is priceless right now and we can't afford to lose it."

  Thom glanced at Leah before answering. "You got it, Mr. C., but what if…uh, what if Maria comes back?"

  Jay stared at Thom. "Just guard the car."

  CHAPTER 9

  KATE HAD TO THINK fast. She was low on supplies—she had enough food and water to last maybe another day at most—and not dressed for a winter excursion. All of her winter gear was still at home—she hoped—some two days away by foot in good conditions.

  A foul, acrid smell—like a burning tire—wafted to her on the slight river breeze. Someone nearby had a fire going.

  Kate shook off the thoughts of fire and its attendant heat, light, and safety. She crouched just inside the tree line and looked back the way she’d come. In the distance, Maggie and Jonathan’s little red Smart Car lay in a pile of slushy, churned-up mud and snow, leaning drunkenly on a flat front tire.

  It was a miracle she’d made it across the river in that thing but she didn’t have time to rest on her laurels. Down closer to the water, headlights and flashing blue strobes announced the imminent arrival of the cops or the National Guard…or whoever the hell had chased her across the Mississippi.

  Her SERE training kicked in again—time to evade. She slung her borrowed pack over one shoulder and jogged deeper into the woods, careful to avoid the patches of snow. Kate kept to the pine needles and rotting leaves in order to impart as few footprints as possible. She had to assume they’d find her prints in the snow at the car and track her to the woods, but hopefully from there they’d either lose her or turn back.

  Jogging along through the pines and dormant oaks, she crested a small hill and found herself on the edge of a neighborhood remarkably simi
lar to Sulphur Springs. She paused to catch her breath and reconnoiter the situation.

  Through a gap in the trees, she saw a small trailer park across a low ditch. The smell of burnt wood filled her nostrils. There were no lights of course, but as she crept closer, the smell grew stronger and she realized everything in front of her had burned to the ground.

  Kate remained just inside the tree line, her eyes straining for movement or light. She paused, listening for any sounds behind her. The last thing she needed was for her pursuers from Missouri to sneak up on her while she watched the ruined trailer park.

  She stopped counting at 23 charred trailer’s. The fire had started—accidental or intentional, it didn’t matter anymore—and nothing had been able to stop the conflagration. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the burnt hamburger smell. She couldn’t afford to think about how many people had died here.

  Kate adjusted the grip on her pack and took a few deep breaths through her mouth before she crouched and rushed across the clearing toward the nearest pile of rubble. Kate felt exposed and naked as she slipped among the smoking debris. She spotted several trailers still standing on the far side of the neighborhood and headed that direction.

  She picked her way slowly, mindful of several ruined homes that radiated a surprising amount of heat. Around melted piles of belongings and blackened siding, she made sure of her footing before each step. Eyes watering and nose burning, she finally approached the surviving trailer homes. Under cover of gloomy twilight, she felt reasonably confident no one spotted her approach.

  Kate looked back across the devastation. If her pursuers tracked her through the woods, they’d assume she went for these homes too. It was the obvious choice.

  Kate crouched behind the charred remains of a refrigerator and watched the line of five trailer homes. None of them had escaped the inferno—they sported blistered paint and warped siding. The three closest to her also wore a generous coating of black soot and had lost all their windows.

  She stared at the trailer on the end. Riddled with bullet holes, the squat little mobile home looked ready to collapse under its own weight. It too had lost several windows, and she focused on the narrow door, open and lazily swinging in the breeze on off-balance hinges.