Blaise turned to face Skylar directly. Bacon grease dripped from his spatula to the floor.
“So the actress is a thinker,” he said. Natalie bristled and tried not to be jealous.
“What I’m saying is the wealthiest families already had complete control. Why destroy technology that took thousands of years to produce?”
“Okay, but look here: With a thing like this they got rid of pollution and overpopulation in one bold stroke. The planet couldn’t take two billion Chinese and Indians driving cars and running factories. So the fat cats built themselves cars and planes and boats that wouldn’t be fried by this pulse deal. All of us coulda had shielding built into our shit, but we didn’t. You think that’s an accident?”
It was all a little much for Natalie to consider, especially when they were about to walk thirty miles toward a warehouse she knew nothing about, carrying weapons she hoped would never be fired.
“But like I said,” Blaise explained, “some of us prepared. Some of us are ready to fight back.”
“How would you, though?” asked Thomas. “If they’ve already set sail for paradise and we’re on foot?”
“Because they gotta come back for the food. All over the world are these giant warehouses where they keep the supplies. They store it under our noses, in broad daylight, and when they come for it we’re gonna be ready. I own a high-powered assault rifle, I own a 12-gauge double barrel shotgun, I own a regular shotgun, I own a regular hunting rifle, I own a 9mm, a .357, a .45 handgun, a .38 Special, and I own an M-16 fully automatic ground assault rifle.”
Blaise smiled proudly, but for Natalie it was too much. The ringing sound rushed into her ears again. The force of it snapped her neck.
“We can’t do this,” she said to Seth, to all of them. “We can’t. Our boys will be in danger. All of us will. We can’t do this.”
“Nat,” said Seth.
“Don’t you ‘Nat’ me, Seth! You left the door unlocked! You doomed us!”
“Nat—”
But she couldn’t stand there any longer. She marched out of the kitchen and into the living room. Natalie was suddenly sure all this was a joke, that it couldn’t be real. She felt certain, if she ventured away from this movie set, she would find a hidden crew that had been filming them all along.
Across the living room stood a dark doorway. Beyond it loomed a long hall that stretched away on her right. From there she walked until she reached another doorway, this one on her left. It opened to a bedroom that was more shadows than light, drapes covering the only window. In front of that window stood a desk. A large rectangular box sat on the desk, a piece of equipment with knobs and dials that made Natalie think of the ancient stereo in her parents’ living room. The cylinder of a microphone stood before it.
So this was the radio. It looked real enough, but it couldn’t be. It was a set piece. A prop.
Natalie had never accepted the reality of this awful new world. Not really. The journey from Tulsa to Dallas had been a rush of blind fear and adrenaline; afterward, during the quiet days in Thomas’ house, she’d been so consumed with personal drama that she barely considered what would happen if and when his supplies ran out.
She heard a footstep behind her. If Seth tried to placate her with more bullshit, Natalie thought she might—
“Mommy?”
Standing in the doorway was her baby boy, little Ben, a quiet child who opened his mouth only when there was something important to say.
“What is it, honey?”
“I’m scared.”
“I know. I’m scared, too.”
“Are you going to leave us alone?”
Natalie leaned down and looked her son in the eye. She was so consumed by her inability to face reality that she was failing this child and his twin brother.
“Ben,” she said. “There’s not a chance in the world I would leave you alone.”
“But you don’t want to go with us to Walmart. Where will you go instead?”
“I’m coming with you. Of course I am.”
“Will it be dangerous?”
Natalie stared into Ben’s blue eyes. The idea of lying to protect his feelings seemed hopelessly obsolete.
“Yes,” she said. “It will probably be dangerous. But your dad and I will make sure you are far away from any of that danger. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“I need you to be as brave and as strong as you can. We have a long walk ahead of us today.”
“I will,” said Ben. “You will be so proud of me. I will be so brave and strong.”
Natalie took his small hand in hers and hoped she could be the same.
THIRTY-FIVE
Thirty miles didn’t seem that far, really. In an earlier, better time, Larry had occasionally visited a gym where he walked uphill on a treadmill at four miles an hour, a pace that if matched today would put them at the Walmart warehouse well before sunset. But they probably wouldn’t walk that quickly, not while shouldering bags full of weapons and enough water to keep them alive. Not while dragging along a couple of kids and their drunk dad. A more reasonable pace seemed like three miles an hour, and any slower meant they wouldn’t make it before dark. Stretched before him lay a full day under the brutal sun, an obstacle that might have proved insurmountable if not for the luxury of making the trip alongside the lovely Skylar Stover.
Larry, Thomas, and Blaise each carried a handgun. Blaise had also produced a military-style rucksack and another canvas bag, into which he placed the extra weapons and ammo. Annoyingly, Thomas had come prepared with additional bags and nearly two dozen empty plastic water bottles. Into these Blaise poured purified water from his pond, along with three large jugs of his own. Was it enough to keep them alive for an entire day in the humid Texas heat? There was no way to know and no way to look it up.
If there was any part of this disaster Larry mourned the most, it was the potential knowledge lost in the ruins of the pulse. All the work over the past century to develop and refine the Standard Model, for instance, would be lost to the fight for survival. Hardly anyone cared about quantum physics before the pulse, and half the country didn’t understand the most basic outcomes of science, like Darwin or climate change. How did these uninformed rubes expect to survive? How many knew how to grow crops or cure meat?
A half-hour or so later, the eight of them were full of bacon and water and taking their first steps toward the warehouse. Blaise wore the rucksack and carried a Walmart bag. Seth had unexpectedly volunteered to carry the other heavy bag, which was slung over his shoulder. He looked like he might collapse under the weight of it. Larry and Natalie and Skylar all wore backpacks, and Thomas carried the other Walmart bag.
As Larry waited for the physical placement of the group to shake out, Thomas pulled a map from his pocket and studied it.
“So where is this warehouse again?” he asked Blaise.
“Off 75 near Melissa.”
Thomas peered at his map as if to verify the accuracy of Blaise’s claim. Skylar walked beside him, or sometimes slightly behind, and seemed to have forgiven Thomas for the loss of his supplies. Larry seethed. Why didn’t the deserving man ever get the girl? Why did posers and fakers always get the girl? Was Skylar attracted to Thomas because he’d written it that way? Did she really believe all this was a story?
Eventually, the eight of them reached the end of Blaise’s long, gravel driveway and turned east on Eldorado. The road was mainly empty, though Larry could see a couple of abandoned cars shimmering in the distance. Already the heat was dense, oppressive, and it couldn’t have been much later than 10:30. Hazed hovered around them in barely-moving layers. The air was still. Their footfalls on the asphalt were swallowed by the ringing in Larry’s ears.