Dan had taken the advice to heart. While he’d never been the most brilliant student, he’d worked hard, always did everything on time. He’d gotten a job at the local hardware store, where he was the most dedicated employee by far. His coworkers were mostly in their late twenties, who, to quote his grandfather, “didn’t have a work ethic worth a damn.”
Dan had outshined them all.
He was only fourteen, going on fifteen. His birthday was in a few days. Not that there was any cause to celebrate. Not with the way things had turned out.
The power had gone out. Everyone had gone insane.
Dan and his grandfather had ridden out the worst of it. Or so it seemed.
The weeks had gone by and things had gotten quieter and quieter. Now no one moved in the streets. There was no sound of vehicles nearby. No sound of anything.
The food was running out. The cans that had been neatly stacked in the basement were disappearing one by one.
So much time had passed. Shouldn’t the government have gotten things under control by now? Shouldn’t the lights have come back on?
But there was no sign of that now.
Dan hadn’t held out much hope. Until, that is, he’d found his grandfather’s old shortwave radio in a dusty trunk in the attic. There hadn’t been any way to power it, until Dan remembered the small broken generator he’d taken home from the dumpster at the hardware store. It had just been sitting there in the garage for close to a year.
It’d been hard to do with his hands and his coordination. But if he’d learned anything from his grandfather and from working at the hardware store, it was he could do a lot of things that people said he couldn’t. So long as he had the time he needed.
So it’d taken him longer than it would have taken others, but he’d gotten the generator hooked up. He’d even gotten the radio to work. He’d run the generator in the garage with the door open, keeping one eye at all times on the backyard. The knife had never left his side.
It had taken days to find anyone on the radio at all. There’d been absolutely nothing, and Dan had figured that the rest of the country was simply dead, completely obliterated by some kind of intense weapon. A nuke, maybe. Or something worse that he couldn’t even imagine.
Finally, when it had seemed like all hope was lost, he’d made contact.
Dan was cautious at first. Sure, he was asking for help blindly. But he had his suspicions about anyone who responded.
Over time, though, talking to this man every night, Dan had grown to trust him. The conversations were always short, and the man never gave his name.
Dan was tired. Completely exhausted. The defense of the house had been up to him and him alone. He’d barely slept in the last weeks.
He’d been staring at the family photographs in the hallway, lost in thought, for who knew how long.
Now he was outside his grandfather’s door, pausing, listening. There wasn’t the sound of his usual heavy snoring.
“Grandpa?” said Dan.
No answer.
Dan didn’t knock. He opened the door. It took him a moment. His hands weren’t working that well.
His grandfather lay there, a look of peace on his face.
But he was dead.
Dan kept it together. He’d suspected this day would come.
He didn’t need to check for a pulse, but he did anyway.
His grandfather’s body was cool. He must have died hours ago, while Dan was staring out the window.
Dan stood there, next to his grandfather’s body, completely stunned. Sure, he was tough. But he was still just a kid. He hadn’t even graduated high school yet.
And now, for the first time in his life, he was completely alone.
Suddenly, there was a tremendous sound outside the street.
It had been so long since he’d heard anything, Dan almost didn’t react at all.
But the sound was only getting louder. It was the sound of engines. Not one, but many. Loud and rumbling.
Dan grabbed the kitchen knife that he had placed on his grandfather’s bedside table and dashed out of the room.
3
Georgia glared down at Max and John.
“Get the hell off the ground, you two.”
They both started sputtering out words, trying to explain themselves.
“You’re acting like two little kids,” said Georgia. “And I don’t want to have to treat you like such. You’re two grown men. I know you’re forgetting that, but I need you to act like the men that you are.”
Everyone else was piling out of the tents and the van now, rubbing their sleep-filled eyes.
It took Max and John a few minutes to calm down, but when they did, they acted embarrassed, and apologized to everyone for waking them up.
“All right, everyone,” said Georgia, clapping her hands together. “Show’s over. Back to bed if you need the rest. If not, it’s time to work.”
“You two should be ashamed of yourselves,” said Mandy.
Georgia was glad to be back on her feet, so to speak. She could actually move her body now, almost in the way she could before she’d been shot. It felt good, but not as good as getting things done.
“What do you need help with, Mom?” said James. He had a sunken look to his eyes that killed Georgia every time she saw it.
“Go get yourself something to eat. And some coffee. Then we’ll get started. Sadie, you do the same.”
“Is this another one of your fun little projects?” said Cynthia. “What are we doing today? Arts and crafts, maybe?”
“You’re still sarcastic as hell even on no sleep,” said Georgia. “You were up all last night. Go back to bed if you want to be any use to anyone.”
“Right. I’ll catch up my beauty sleep then. Another couple hours and I’ll look five years younger.”
Georgia didn’t even crack a smile. There was work to do. She surveyed the campsite. It was a complete mess. Gear was scattered everywhere. The woodpiles had slowly grown into nothing but messes that were starting to creep over the whole campsite. They needed to get organized.
“Georgia, can I talk to you for a minute?” It was Max, looking as sheepish as she’d ever seen him.
“What’s up, Max?”
“In private, I mean,” said Max, casting an eye back to his brother.
“Let’s take a walk,” said Georgia.
They walked together, side by side, in silence towards the trees.
Georgia’s rifle had been slung over her back. She took it in her hands now. She didn’t like being far from camp without it at the ready, even though things had been calm. No sign of anyone.
They stopped in a small clearing in the trees, within eyesight of camp, but out of earshot.
Max took his binoculars from around his neck and began looking off into the distance.
“See anything?”
“Nope,” said Max.
“So what’s this all about?”
Max lowered the binoculars and looked Georgia right in the eye.
“I have to go,” he said. “I’m leaving tonight.”
Georgia didn’t say anything for a moment. She’d been worried about this. Max had been talking on the radio with some kid for the past week, ever since he’d first made contact. The conversations hadn’t been long, but they seemed to have been on Max’s mind the entire time.
“You don’t have to go, Max,” said Georgia. If she hadn’t been holding her rifle, she would have crossed her arms in front of her.
Max didn’t answer. He was busy digging into the ground with the toe of his boot.
“This just doesn’t make sense, Max. And it’s out of character.”
“Out of character?”
“Yeah, you’re always talking about practicality, about being realistic. You’re always trying to protect us. Our group. You know you can’t save everyone. What makes this kid different? I know this sounds harsh, but why does he deserve to be saved?”