Outage (Powerless Nation #1) (6 page)

BOOK: Outage (Powerless Nation #1)
2.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Gracious, child, are you all right?” Grandpa held her at arms length and inspected her. He even peeled back the bandage on her head to get a look at the wound. “Small and clean,” he murmured to himself. “No need for stitches.”

Dee was completely wrung out, physically and emotionally; she just stood in the entryway, hunched into herself. Grandpa considered her and finally said, “I can see you've got more to tell but it'll keep until tomorrow.” He guided her over to the couch and tucked her under a thick blanket. “No need for crying now, Maddie-girl. You're home safe.”

The soft couch enveloped her in comfort, and Dee felt herself drifting off almost immediately. One last thought winged through her head before sleep overtook her:
Am I really safe? Is anyone?

She slept all through the day and into late afternoon, and when she woke up she was disoriented. She tried to remember where she was and why she'd slept in her clothes. As realization swept over her, she sighed and sat up. She knew she had a lot of explaining to do, but no idea where to start.

There was the EMP – an acronym for a technical term she no longer remembered and knew she couldn't define. Some kind of shock waves that knocked out the power and phones? Vague, but maybe it would do. Somehow she needed to get gas to the truck, bring it home, and then find a place to store the bizarre assortment of food supplies she'd spent her life savings on. Should she tell Grandpa about Mason? Admit that she'd picked up a drop-dead gorgeous hitchhiker and spent all day with him? And the gun. How was she supposed to explain that?

Dee's concerns were forgotten when she saw Grandpa come in from doing the evening chores. His face was a mottled gray and perspiration drenched his thin hair. His breathing was shallow and he couldn't quite seem to catch his breath.

She saw him stagger. “Grandpa!” she shouted, and ran to him. Dee got him into his easy chair and put his feet up. How could she have been so stupid to let the truck run out of gas? Now they were trapped here and her grandpa clearly needed medical attention. What if he died? She’d be completely alone. Just the thought of it made her dizzy.

She sat on the floor by his knee and held his hand until his face gradually regained its pink flush and his breathing returned to normal.

When he had his voice back he said, “Don't cry, Maddie-girl. I'm just fine. I haven't had an episode like that for a few years though. Not since Doc Foster put that pacemaker in my chest.”

Dee lifted her head from the arm of his chair and stared at Grandpa in horror. “You've got a pacemaker?”

“You look like you just swallowed a stack of lemons. And what's so bad about a pacemaker, I'd like to know. This little mini-computer in my chest is my own sweet miracle. I wouldn't be able to run the farm without it.”
 

Dee swallowed. “It's a computer? What does it do in there, exactly?”

“Well, it keeps an eye on my heart and sends it a little shock if it gets to beatin' too slow. Before I got it I used to get episodes like this all the time. Instead of speeding up when I was working, my heart would slow down.” Grandpa considered. “When the phone comes back up, I guess I'm going to need to call the Doc and get it checked out.”

“About the phones,” Dee began. “I don't think they'll be back up any time soon.” She told Grandpa everything about the day before, from when she picked up Mason, all the way to helping Courtney get food for her kids. Afterwards, Grandpa was quiet for a long time, and Dee wondered if she needed to try to explain again.
 

When he finally spoke, his first words surprised Dee, “You were right to help that young mom. I've seen her kids playin' out by their creek. It wouldn't be right to let 'em starve.” Dee felt her throat clench when he went on to say, “I'm proud of you Maddie. You helped the fire department, you showed compassion for a scared young mother, and you kept your head in an emergency.” Then his eyebrows drew together and he said in a firm voice, “But if I ever hear about you picking up another hitch-hiker, well, don't think you're too old to have your hide tanned.”

Dee bit back a laugh. “Okay. But you'd like Mason. I couldn't have gotten through yesterday without him.”

“He sounds like a fine young man, Maddie – but you
would
have gotten through it without him.
 
You've got a strong spirit and your folks taught you the difference between right and wrong. Don't you ever sell yourself short.” He let that sink in for a moment and then said, “Now, we've got some plans to make, and I'd like to start by hearing what you've got in mind.”

Dee sat up straighter. Grandpa trusted her, and he wanted to hear what she thought they should do. She took a deep breath to steady herself.

“First thing is to get the truck back up here. The problem is I don't see how I'm going to get gas. Do you think I could siphon some out of the tractor?”

Grandpa nodded, “I was thinking the same thing about the truck, but you won't have to get gas out of the tractor. How do you think I get the gas for the tractor in the first place? Can you imagine me driving it all the way in to town?” Dee shook her head, and Grandpa continued, “Back behind the barn I've got an aboveground gas tank that doesn't use electricity. You just open the valve and let gravity do the work for you. A lot of farmers around here have a gas tank.”

Dee let out a long, relieved sigh. “And you've got a gas can?”

Grandpa smiled, “I've got at least three. Now what else do we need to be thinking about?”

“We need to take a food inventory, find a place to store it, and... well, one of us needs to learn how to cook it. Also, how are we going to cook? Does the gas stove still work?”

“Excellent questions. We should check the stove to be sure, but the natural gas should still be in the lines so I suspect it will work for a while yet. After that we'll need to think of something else.”

“What about the woodstove? Isn't that what the pioneers used?”

Grandpa answered evenly, “I'd guess that might be dangerous for the oxen.”

Dee realized he was teasing her, “I didn't mean while they were traveling!”

“Using the woodstove is a good thought, Maddie, but not in the summer. It will make the house too hot and use up firewood we'll need come winter. Let's save the cooking question for now. Anything else?”

Dee knew they needed to talk about the farm chores. She didn't even know exactly what they were, but figured they included feeding and milking the cows, taking care of the chickens, and tending the garden. Plus, whatever you did with crops in the fields. Now that Grandpa couldn't do any of that stuff, it would all be up to her.

For a minute she wished she were back in Maryland with her friends. They weren't going to get pecked by chickens or have to pick acres worth of bug-infested corn. Even though she knew she was being selfish, she couldn't stop the wave of self-pity that washed over her. School was out and she was supposed to be having fun with her friends, driving to the beach and hanging out at the mall. Not squeezing cow udders.

She played the scene out in her head. She was wearing pink boots and a cowboy hat, valiantly jumping between steaming piles of crap and trying to sneak up on a cow. The smell was appalling, and when she finally got close enough to touch it, the cow kicked her like a bucking bronco at a rodeo and ran to another part of the field. She was never going to be able to do farm work.

If she didn't do it, Grandpa would, and that could kill him.

“Grandpa?” she said in a small voice, “I don't know anything about farming or animals.”

“Come here, Maddie-girl,” Grandpa said in a kind voice, and patted the arm of his chair. Dee sat close to him, and he put an arm around her waist. “I know this isn't going to be easy for you. Even if you'd grown up here on the farm it would still be hard. There's a lot to learn and not much time. You're smart though, and I know you're a hard worker. Together we are going to get through this.”

Dee squared her shoulders. If Grandpa thought she could do this, then she would try.
 

 

Dee set out the next morning to get the truck. The worst part of the walk was lugging the gas can the whole distance. The fumes made her light-headed, and it was heavy and awkward and kept banging into her leg.

When she got to Courtney's house, she saw the young mother out working in her yard while her kids played in a plastic turtle sandbox. Courtney had a hoe and it looked like she was ripping out the shrubs and flower bushes that lined her yard.

“What's going on?” Dee called.

Courtney shaded her eyes and smiled when she saw Dee. “I found some old seeds in the garage and I'm going to plant them. I've just got to clear out some of these shrubs first and make room.”

“That's a great idea,” said Dee, thinking about her grandpa's garden. Some of his plants were already knee-high. “Isn't it a little late for planting though?”

Courtney shrugged, “I've got to do something. Maybe I can cover them when it gets cold, or even bring them into the house. I already have a few potted tomatoes and herbs.”

“I wish I could stay and help,” Dee began, but Courtney interrupted.

“You've already done enough,” she said firmly. “You gave me hope that my Rob is walking home from Spokane. When he gets here we've got food and we're going to raise a garden and take care of our kids. So don't worry about us. Not at all.”

They chatted for a few more minutes about the kids, and then Dee resumed her walk. Talking about Courtney's husband walking from Spokane made her think about her parents. She'd been dealing with one emergency after another and hadn't let herself consider their situation. Now, walking down a deserted country road, she couldn't think about anything else. Were they stranded in the middle of the ocean? Although she'd pretended to ignore them when they talked about their trip, she knew their itinerary by heart. Yesterday they were supposed to spend the whole day at sea. Maybe they hadn't been in range of the EMP. Even so, from what Jennifer had said it would still be a major obstacle for the ship to dock and unload its passengers.
 

Once her parents disembarked they'd be in a city where they had no family or friends, no food or supplies, and they'd have to travel more than three hundred and fifty miles over the Cascade Mountains to get to her. Even if their car still worked, they wouldn't be able to get it out of Seattle. Not when it practically took an army to get a fire truck across a small town.

Dee finally reached the truck, and she climbed in and rested her head on the steering wheel while tears dropped down her cheeks. She'd been so awful to them this year. Dee had blamed her bad behavior on losing her brother, but hadn't they lost a son too? They hadn't deserved the way she'd been treating them.

Had she even waved goodbye to them Sunday? She knew she hadn't said a word.

Dee tried to pull herself together. She was wasting time. If Jennifer was right and this thing was as bad as she thought, Dee was going to be here for a while.

Just for a while.
“Don't say forever. Don't say forever,”
she told herself fiercely.
“They
are
coming back.”

Dee was wiping her eyes when she heard a sound she'd only heard on TV. When she turned her head, she was looking straight down the barrel of a gun.

CHAPTER SEVEN

T
HE
MAN
HOLDING
THE
gun was in his mid-twenties, with messy brown hair and hands that shook.

“Don't shoot,” Dee said, putting her hands where he could see them.

“Does that thing work?” asked the man.

“It's... out of gas,” Dee stalled, trying to think. She couldn't let him steal the truck. All of their food and supplies were locked in the cargo box in back.

“Get out,” said the man, waving her aside with the barrel of the gun.

Her legs barely supported her as she opened the door and slid out. She was right next to the man, and his hands were shaking so hard she was afraid he was going to shoot her by accident. “Get over there,” he said, pushing her roughly to one side.

Dee fell and the rough gravel bit into her palms. She pulled herself into a kneeling position and tried to think. Her heart was pounding out of her chest and she felt sick. How could she have been so careless? She had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts she hadn't even looked to see if anyone else was around. She’d been so busy feeling sorry for herself she wouldn't have noticed if he'd dropped out of the sky.

There was no way she could let him take the truck. How could she stop him though? A fifteen-year-old girl against a man with a gun? Those were bad odds. She looked over at him and saw he was already untwisting the lid to the gas tank, paying attention to something on the other side of the truck and not looking at her at all.
 

Dee reached into her pocket and carefully took the keys out. If she could just get the key to the cargo box off the ring, maybe he wouldn't try to get into it. There was no reason anyone should suspect the box was full of groceries.

Her palms were sweaty and they hurt from the fall, but she tried to hurry.
Which key was it?
There was the key to the Chevrolet and one to the house. There were a lot of other keys too and she had no idea which one it was. Maybe the one with DiamondBack stamped on it? She had to be sure.

The man lifted the heavy gas tank like it weighed nothing and began filling the tank. It took longer than she expected and she was grateful for the extra minutes. Dee sidled closer to the truck, trying to get a look at the box.

“Stay back, girl,” the man called over his shoulder. Dee froze.

He paused and then changed his mind, “Actually, I'm gonna need the truck key. Go put it on the driver's seat and then get out of here.”

Key
, repeated Dee to herself.
He said key, not... Keys!
That was it. How could she be so oblivious? She took the truck key off the ring and slid the rest into her pocket. Her mind raced, trying to figure out how to get away safely and not let him take the truck. She approached the driver’s side and thought maybe she could start it up and get away before he could shoot her. It had gas now, after all.
 

Other books

Breakthrough by Michael Grumley
The Saint of Lost Things by Christopher Castellani
Ride the Man Down by Short, Luke;
On the Fly (Crimson Romance) by Kenyhercz, Katie
Timecaster: Supersymmetry by Konrath, J.A., Kimball, Joe
Silvermay by James Moloney