Page 21

chapter twenty

Tuck

I glanced back at Emily and Charlie. I was shaken by what had happened, but Emily looked like she was barely hanging on. As much as I wanted to stop and let her come to grips with what she’d just witnessed, I also knew that moving her body was going to help. And unfortunately, even if it was unlikely, taking the time to process also meant risking Leonard returning with his rifle blazing, deciding that three witnesses to the murder he’d just committed was unacceptable. Regardless, Leonard was right on one count—the world had changed in the last four days. And it was only going to get worse the longer the power stayed off.

Charlie took his phone from his pocket and lifted it toward the sky. “Any sign that it’s working at all?” I asked. It seemed plausible now that it wasn’t just that the power was out, or cell towers were down, or even that satellites weren’t working, but that the phone itself was fried just like the hundreds of cars we’d passed by.

Charlie shook his head dejectedly. “No.”

We passed another sign for “Silver Creek, Missouri, Population 2,700,” and continued in that direction.

I still hadn’t gotten used to the quiet. I could hear birdcalls, and the sway of trees, and the shuffle of our feet over the ground. But other than that? Silence. No planes flew overhead, there were no distant engine roars or whatever other sounds I was used to, even in the country. And the sky was still that pale orange color with odd waves of lavender.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” I heard Charlie say from behind me. “It’s like the whole world fell asleep.”

“We know that’s not true,” Emily murmured. “There are men with guns hiding in the trees.”

“Look,” I said, pointing ahead, and trying to distract Emily from thoughts of men who might ambush us at any moment. “The town.”

We all squinted into the muted sunlight at the distant outlines of a few buildings. There were some signs up ahead as well. “I don’t see any…movement at all,” I said.

“It looks like a ghost town from here,” Charlie noted.

“Maybe that man came here first and killed everyone,” Emily suggested.

I gave her a look. “One armed man didn’t kill a whole town of people. Come on. We know the power is out. People are probably holed up in their homes, waiting for things to get fixed. It’s pretty damn cold out.”

“Maybe we’ll see more signs of life as we get closer,” Charlie said hesitantly.

We walked the remaining quarter of a mile in silence. I kept my ears perked for the hum of an engine, or the laugh of a child, or something , but I didn’t hear a sound. The fraying of my nerves continued. Charlie and Emily moved closer as we passed through the town limits, the buildings before us sitting dark and seemingly empty of all human life.

There was a small crash that made us all turn quickly toward the sound, and a cat came running from an alleyway, leaped over a short bush, and darted out of sight. Emily brought her hand to her chest, letting out a small, nervous laugh. Charlie released a breath, and I slowly straightened from where I’d braced for some sort of impact, my hand going to the short, whittled stake that I’d made a few days ago and stuck through one of my belt loops.

“Listen,” I said, stopping when the sound of what I thought were voices hit my ears.

“People,” Charlie said. “There are people up ahead.”

We walked another block, the voices getting louder until we saw a drugstore with the door standing open, the heated conversation obviously emanating from there.

We stepped through the doors of the dim store. “It’s been four goddamn days,” someone said. “My boy needs a new inhaler.”

“I understand the situation, Jeb,” another man said. “But we don’t keep much stock here and even if we did, I can’t dispense medication.”

“My mom needs her pills,” a woman said. “What are we supposed to do?”

We all walked farther inside, and I took in the state of the store. Most of the shelves at the front were bare.

We turned down another aisle—makeup and skin care—and that one was almost completely stocked. And yet the refrigerators along the wall a few aisles over were dark and empty. People had obviously bought—or taken—things in a hurry.

More people started shouting about the items they needed from the pharmacy, voices rising in pitch, obviously scared and desperate.

“Enough!” the man with the deepest voice yelled. “This is not my doing. My own boy’s arm is broken and all we’ve got is Tylenol. I’m working around the clock to try to keep this town safe, but there are some things that we’re going to have to do without.”

“Do without, Sheriff? Brent’s not gonna die of a broken arm, but that’s not true of everyone who needs medication. Doing without some things is a matter of life and death!” a woman said.

We continued through the store, and I looked at a shelf at the end of the aisle that was completely empty of product, only the logos remaining. Batteries.

“Lorena, like I said, your mother’s medication isn’t stocked here, and the last shipment was a week ago. I’m sorry. Jeb, when Kari gets back, I’ll ask her if she knows anyone else in town who might have an inhaler to loan you,” the man who’d been addressed as “Sheriff” with the deep voice answered.

“When’s Kari getting back?”

“I don’t know. She’s doing what she can at the hospital. Things there aren’t good.”

“Things here aren’t good,” someone else said.

As I turned the corner, I saw the group of people gathered near the pharmacy. Like the shelves at the front, the ones back here were virtually empty too. I read the price tags under the barren spaces. Pain relief. Bandages. Eye care. Vitamins. All but wiped out.

A man in a sheriff’s uniform caught sight of us, his expression registering surprise. “Who are you?” he asked as the others turned to peer at us.

I looked among the people, their worried expressions morphing into curiosity and some wariness.

“Hi,” Emily said, beginning to step around me. But I stopped her with a hand on her arm. She glanced down at my hand and gave me an impatient look. I was glad to see that, at least for the moment, she’d shaken off Leonard’s showdown. But I wasn’t certain yet that that was a good idea. Leonard had been a good reminder that societal rules had recently changed. These looked like a group of normal townsfolk with their sheriff, but who knew how they felt about strangers walking into their midst?

I let go of her but stepped in front of both her and Charlie. “My name is Tucker Mattice, and I’m traveling with Charlie Cannon and Emily Swanson,” I said, gesturing behind me.

The sheriff stepped forward as well. He was an older man with close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair and a short beard that was more salt than pepper. I noted that the man’s hand had gone to the holster on his belt and was now resting there, and that, like me, he’d stepped in front of the people he was with. I held my hand out. He looked at it for a beat before reaching out and shaking. “Sheriff David Goodfellow. Where are you traveling from and why?”

“Sir, if you have a way to reach people—” Charlie started to say, but the man held up his hand, his gaze still on me as he waited for the answer to his question.

“We were in a plane crash,” I answered. “It was a three-day walk to the outskirts of Springfield, Illinois. From there we hitched a ride and were dropped off at the exit to Silver Creek.”

“Then a man who gave us a ride shot and killed a…a bandit who tried to take his car,” Emily blurted. “It was murder. But it was also self-defense so, yeah, we should report that because there’s a dead body lying out there near the turnoff to your town.”

“Christ,” someone muttered from behind the sheriff. “The world has lost its mind.”

Sheriff Goodfellow looked at Emily. “I’ll have you write out a statement. But there’s not a lot I can do right now.”

“Okay, well, his name was Leonard and he’s driving a green car named Bridget. His brother has a trailer somewhere near a lake in—” she waved her hand backward “—that direction somewhere, and and—” She stopped talking, pulling in a big breath as an older woman came over to her and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Breathe, honey.”

Emily sucked in a big breath and nodded as Charlie stepped forward.

“You probably recognize me,” he said, glancing around hopefully before running his hand through his hair and offering a large, toothy smile. It faltered, then dipped as the people standing around looked at him with zero recognition. Charlie cleared his throat. “I’m an actor,” he said. “A…movie star?” I almost laughed at his timid, questioning voice. Despite the tense situation, I still managed to enjoy seeing him knocked down a few pegs.

“There aren’t too many movie theaters out our way,” the woman with her hand on Emily’s shoulder offered, “but our children might know who you are.”

“Oh,” Charlie said. “Right. Hmm… Well…” He trailed off, obviously at a loss and deciding not to follow up with whatever he was going to ask for in the wake of absolutely no one recognizing him.

The sheriff addressed me. “Are you the pilot? Of the plane you were on that went down?”

“No. Our pilot was killed.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

I gave a succinct nod, a knot forming in my stomach as it occurred to me that Russell had been the first body we’d seen, but certainly not the only one between that moment and this one. I wondered vaguely if we’d see more death before we reached our destination and hoped to fuck not, but knew it was clear we’d have to be prepared for anything. “We haven’t been able to get any cell service, and the power’s been out everywhere we’ve been.” I looked around at the people, then back to the sheriff.

The sheriff relaxed his stance. “It sounds like you’ve been through a lot. I imagine the stories that are going to come out of this situation will range from interesting to catastrophic.”

“I imagine so. Do you know what caused this? We’ve heard a few theories.”

One of the men behind the sheriff took a step forward. “Roger Land, who used to be a science professor at the University of Missouri, thinks it was a solar flare. Others say it was a cyberattack that took our grid offline and knocked out our satellites. Lots of buzz from all directions. No one knows for sure.”

“But you’re a sheriff,” Emily said, coming to stand next to me. “You haven’t received any official word?”

“Not a peep,” he said. All three of us looked between each other and a whirlwind of unease rippled through the group. That was really bad news. Not only was the grid down, as well as cell phones, but all official channels had been lost?

The woman who’d comforted Emily addressed the sheriff. “Are we meeting at the community center tonight?”

“Tonight, and every night until this is resolved,” the sheriff said.

“And Kari’s gonna be there so we can ask her about medication?” the woman asked.

“I doubt it,” he answered. “But I don’t have an update on what it’s like at the hospital today.”

“Several of the older folks are on medications that are keeping them alive,” a young woman interjected.

“And there are a number of diabetics in town too,” a man said. “A few of them are kids.”

“I know, Harold. We’re going to discuss all that tonight and pool what we can until official word comes in, okay?”

Harold gave a frustrated sigh and turned away and the rest of the small crowd began following as they talked amongst themselves.

“Sorry I can’t be of more help,” the sheriff said, turning his attention back to us. “Unless you need something on these shelves. I can’t run the cash register, but folks have been leaving money in an envelope behind the counter and I’ve been collecting it for the Redmonds, who own the place. They left yesterday to get to their pregnant daughter who’s in another part of the state.”

I looked around. About the only things left in this store were makeup and magazines. I respected that these people were operating on the honor system so far. It was nice to see after what we’d witnessed just before stepping into this town. “Do you know if there’s a sporting goods store anywhere in the area?”

The sheriff had begun walking toward the front and we turned and followed him. “Yeah, there’s one off the next exit. But one of our residents rode his bicycle up that way yesterday once enough snow melted to see about buying some ammo, and he came back to say it’s completely empty. Not even a pair of sunglasses. Apparently, folks got a little out of hand in a few places.”

I hoped that turned out to be true. That their behavior was unwarranted and needlessly out of hand and they’d look back and regret panicking.

But it’d been four days. Four days with no official word was not good.

We followed the sheriff from the store, stepping out into the chilly but sunny day. The streets were still deserted, even the few people who’d been at the pharmacy were now out of sight. “Why is everyone hiding?” Charlie asked.

“They’re not hiding. Just laying low or gathered together at the church or community center. And quite a few, who could, left to be with family in other areas,” the sheriff said. “We’re not sure what to expect. There’s been some buzz on the ham radio about what might have happened, but no official confirmation of any kind. All just guesses at this point. Whatever happened, electrical systems all went haywire.”

“Any news from surrounding towns? You mentioned one a few exits from here,” I said.

“Other than the short distances a few residents have traveled to and then returned from, no. Like I said, I haven’t been able to contact anyone.” He looked from one of us to the other, Charlie offering a wide smile when the sheriff’s gaze landed on him as though he was waiting to be recognized and his Hollywood grin would make it easier on the man. But the sheriff only offered him a confused frown. “I walked to the main interstate yesterday and saw all the abandoned cars whose electronics are fried. I talked to as many people as I could wave down or were walking. Most were from other areas in the state, all trying to get to family. But one man was right outside Pennsylvania when the lights went out. He said there were mass fires in Pittsburgh, and he barely made it out. He had an old Buick that still worked, and some extra gas in his garage that he took with him but was running low on fuel. From what he told me, all the stations between there and here are closed.”

I felt a clunk in my stomach as though something heavy had dropped. “So, it does stretch east.” I said, my mind spinning. At least as far as Pennsylvania, but that might mean it also affected states farther than that. I raked a hand through my hair and looked away, not wanting to consider how big this might truly be.

Charlie heaved out a breath, his phone clattering to the ground. “It goes all the way to Pennsylvania?”

“And possibly beyond,” the sheriff said.

Charlie brought his hands to his head and gripped his hair. “How the hell is that possible?” He paced one way, then pivoted and took a few steps in the other direction. “No power grid? No satellites? No phones ? Anywhere? ” He stopped, gaping down at his phone on the ground. He let out a loud gust of breath and shook his head. “No, no, that can’t be right. That’s impossible.”

We all stared at him for a minute. It was very clearly possible. We had at least some proof, notably the fact that our plane had fallen from the sky, and also, the useless phone currently lying on the ground. Add to that the highway jammed with broken-down cars, the corpses, and the killing we’d witnessed, and you’d think Charlie might have already grasped some reality. He turned and resumed pacing a few feet away.

Emily let out a nervous laugh, her eyes slightly glazed. “That’s only the report of one man,” she said. “Maybe he got it wrong. Maybe he was lying. Maybe you misunderstood,” she said, pointing her finger at the sheriff and then quickly dropping it. He just looked at her, but not with anger. With understanding. He’d clearly been dealing with people having trouble accepting an onslaught of bad news since this had all started.

My heart was speeding, and I felt slightly clammy all of a sudden, despite the cold weather. Mass fires? No gas stations open? Across multiple state lines that we knew about?

“Why no gas?” Emily asked, turning back to the sheriff. “If most vehicles aren’t working at all, then why did gas run out so quickly?”

“They can’t pump without electricity,” I said, turning my gaze back on the sheriff. “So, this outage stretches east at least as far as Pennsylvania, but what about in other directions?”

“I couldn’t tell you. I haven’t had a lot of time to go out to the highway and I don’t feel comfortable being gone for long. My boy broke his arm right after the lights went out—tripped down the damn stairs. There’s a hospital twenty miles from here, but even their backup generator is out of commission. They managed to find a couple of working vehicles and moved their critical patients to a hospital a few hours away with a generator that’s running. That one will be operational as long as they can acquire gas, but only for critical needs. Even so, it’s a total catastrophe there too, from reports I’ve gotten.”

Christ. Who was making the determination about who was critical and who was not? I didn’t even want to think about what was going on in a hospital after days without any electricity whatsoever. How many had already died? “There are no medical personnel in town who could help your son?” I asked.

“They’re at the hospital. It’s an all-hands-on-deck situation there. Not only do they have the regular patients, many of whom are dependent on machines, to deal with, but there were burn victims from the fires that broke out, and some serious injuries from falling infrastructure. From what I’ve been told by those who’ve tried to seek help and been turned away, staff is being asked to sleep there for now and take shifts. So medical professionals who live in town haven’t been home in days. And unfortunately, that leaves anyone contending with what’s considered a minor injury out in the cold, literally and figuratively. I’m hoping that changes in the days ahead, but for now…” He sighed. “Anyway, we’ve got my boy in a sling, but he’s in pain and all we can do is dose him up on Tylenol for now.”

“Shit,” I said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Shit, shit, shit !” Charlie swore, picking his phone up from the ground. It appeared mostly undamaged. “You’re telling me there’s no form of communication in the entire world ?”

Apparently, the pacing and muttering hadn’t helped much.

“I never said that,” the sheriff said. “Highway traffic was a mess in both directions, but I only managed to talk to people who were traveling from the east. Several I tried to wave down didn’t stop—people are less than reasonable when they’re trying to get to loved ones. Can’t blame ’em. What it did make clear was that we need to set up a patrol at the borders of our town. That starts this evening. You three were the last unchecked visitors here. We simply don’t know what’s coming and can’t be complacent.”

My head was reeling. I was having a hard time grasping this. But the sheriff was right. There was no room for complacency in a situation where the scope might be…too colossal to imagine. He was right to protect his town in whatever way he could.

“How are we going to get a ride out of here?” Charlie asked. “Do you have a vintage car we can use? I’ll purchase it from you.” He dug around in his pants, pulling out his wallet, and holding up a credit card. “You can write down the number and charge it once the power’s back up.”

The sheriff’s gaze held on him a beat. “Sorry, son, I don’t have a vintage car and anyone in town who does is gonna want to hold on to it. You can understand that, I’m sure.”

Son. Under other circumstances, Charlie’s offended expression would have made me want to laugh. But I couldn’t muster so much as a chuckle at Charlie’s expense. And hadn’t he just heard what the sheriff said about dwindling fuel and the main highway at a standstill? Even if we could find a car like Leonard’s, we’d be out of gas after a couple of hours. Not to mention that it’d been made clear to us that a vehicle was in high demand and quickly becoming a dangerous possession. My thoughts halted and then sped, moving in every direction randomly.

Emily’s gaze darted from Charlie to me, hanging there as she blew out a huff of breath. We could ask the sheriff if we could stay here. The town seemed like it was making do and banding together in the ways they were able. Maybe they’d allow us to stay, especially if we had something to offer. I was strong and fit and suddenly realized that all the workouts I’d done in prison to keep myself occupied could be put to a greater use. A small trickle of purpose made me straighten my spine. A disaster. This was a clear disaster, perhaps of epic proportions. Sharp minds were necessary to figure out how to get by until normalcy was restored. Able bodies would be needed. I could barter with my physical and mental assets.

But…the idea of staying put, staying safe, also meant that Emily’s parents would be left to wonder where she was and what had happened to her—a torturous prospect for any parent. I understood why even the people the sheriff had mentioned who owned a home and a business here in this town had left it to get to their daughter. Even before I’d understood the scope of this, I’d planned to get Emily home safely. And as for me personally, safety had never been a strong motivation. I craved purpose.

I held my gaze to Emily’s and paused as I brought my bottom lip between my teeth. She seemed to be waiting for me to say something, as though she knew that I was making a decision about our next move. “Your parents will be panicked when they don’t hear from you, Emily. I bet they’re already panicking.”

She blinked. Nodded. “Yes, my mom is probably climbing the walls.” Her throat moved as she swallowed.

I glanced to my left, out to the horizon. “I think we should stick to our original plan and get on the road.”

“To California?” Emily asked.

California felt like a universe away. So many bad things had happened to me there. I’d made such terrible mistakes within its borders. But I couldn’t help remembering what Mrs. Swanson had said about my mom the last time I’d seen her: We once promised each other that if anything happened to the other, she’d look out for Em and I’d look out for you. My mom wasn’t around anymore to look out for Emily, but I could do what she would have done if she’d been able. Right now, I was the only one who could. Plus, my uncle was there, and I wanted to make sure he was okay too. Not to mention the other people in the neighborhood, two in particular. “Yeah,” I answered.

“Get on the road to California?” Charlie blurted. “Using what?”

“Our feet,” I said. “We have no way to know from here what’s up ahead. I think we should find out. The alternative is do nothing, and I’m not cut out for that.”

I also had this deep sense that we needed to get on the road now before things really crumbled. The longer the power was off, the more desperate things would become. At a certain point—one likely approaching fast—it wouldn’t be safe to travel at all. Either we set off pretty immediately, or we hunkered down here. Again, I wasn’t cut out for sitting in place—I’d done far too much of that for too many years. But also, whether I could barter with my willingness to work and chip in or not, I didn’t feel entirely right asking these people to put us up when basic supplies might become extremely stretched. “It’d be best if we get a night of sleep and some food, if possible, and take off in the morning. Do you think we might buy some basic camping gear somewhere in town?”

The sheriff considered that. “I’d imagine we can collect a few sleeping bags and some backpacks. That’s not the type of stuff that’s going to be valuable to us here in our homes.”

“Great. Thank you so much. Is there anywhere we might rent a room?” I had a little bit of cash in my wallet, but not much. Still, I had to offer something and hope for the best.

The sheriff scratched his head. “Unfortunately, no. The nearest motel is about ten miles up the highway. And I have no idea if they’ve remained operational.”

“Would a family be willing to put us up? Like, I said, just for a night and we’re willing to pay, of course.”

“Money won’t do us any good right now. None of you work in the medical field, do you?”

“No,” I said. “But I can look at your son’s arm if you’d like me to. In exchange for a room for one night. If your son’s injury is a dislocation, or even a simple break, I can set it.” It was a risk. It’d been years since I’d set a bone, but it was also very straightforward. I remembered what to do and was willing to try. “If I deem it to be more serious than I can handle, I’ll leave it be, I promise.”

“You just said you didn’t work in the medical field,” the sheriff said.

I glanced at Emily, who was looking at me with some amount of alarm. “I don’t, but we lived on a farm. I watched the vet set many bones over the years. It’s a simple process that will immediately alleviate his pain.”

The sheriff’s gaze hung on me. “A farm?”

I released a breath. “I know animals aren’t humans, but there are enough similarities that I believe I can help. Or at least try.”

The sheriff was silent for so long, I was sure he was going to say no way. “Okay. You look at my boy’s arm. But unless you’re sure you can do more good than harm to him, then it goes no further than a look. Either way, one night in our home is all I’m going to be able to offer but it wouldn’t be right not to do at least that.” He gave the three of us a look in turn. “And I wouldn’t expect that everyone’s willing to do what’s right, once you get out there so be prepared for that. More to the point, the notion of right and wrong is going to shift the longer the power’s out. Frankly, there’s no telling what’s going on beyond Silver Creek.” An expression of something akin to torment passed over his face before he glanced away.

Charlie let out a sound that was somewhere between a grunt and a whine.

“Understood,” I said. “And thank you.” Then I looked at Emily and Charlie. “We leave first thing.”