“Yes, Florida,” Olivia said with confidence. “I agree with Jon. We aren’t soldiers. We can’t fight these armies. Winter is coming on fast. I say we go to Florida, where it’s warm and safe, and wait until it’s over… but I’m not going by myself.”
“Got it,” Tori declared. “You all know where I stand. Two say we go to Nevada, one says we go to Kentucky, and one says we go to Disney World. It comes down to you, Tucker.”
Once again, the group was looking to me to make a decision. No matter what I said I’d have two people angry at me.
“I agree with all of you,” I responded.
“That’s not a vote,” Kent said quickly.
“Just listen. I’m not so sure about this rebel survivor thing. Maybe it’s real, maybe not. Like Kent said, I hope it’s true. At least it means we’d have a chance at fighting back and taking control of our own futures.”
“Thank you!” Kent exclaimed.
“Good,” Tori declared. “We go to Nevada.”
“Through Kentucky,” I added quickly.
“What?” Tori snapped.
“You’re kidding me,” Kent complained. “Why?”
“To learn,” I said. “If what Mr. Hartman said was true, there are people there who knew this was coming. We might be able to learn something we can bring with us to Nevada. That kind of information could make us valuable to the survivors gathering there… assuming they exist.”
Tori stared me square in the eye. I was afraid she was going to tee off on me for not supporting her again.
I shrugged and said, “Why not? It’s on the way.”
She actually gave me a small smile and said, “That’s pretty smart.”
“I have my moments,” I said, totally relieved.
Olivia said, “What if we find this safe place in Kentucky and some of us want to stay?”
“Then stay,” I replied. “I hope we stick together, but we’ve all gotta do what we’ve gotta do.”
I looked to each person in turn, waiting for their response.
The first one to react was Kent. He walked past me, headed for the emergency room door.
“Everybody get your stuff,” he said. “We’re outta here.”
“I still want to go to Florida,” Olivia said with a pout.
It was as simple as that. Minutes later we were back on the road and headed south.
We used the atlas to plot a route that would take us south through Connecticut, past New York City, and into northern New Jersey. The route then headed west: We would drive the length of Pennsylvania and on into Ohio. Once through Ohio, we’d head south again and into Kentucky. Our goal was to get to the airport in Louisville, just as Mr. Hartman suggested.
From there it was anybody’s guess as to what we would do.
We planned the route to skirt major cities, figuring that if there was any military activity it would more likely be in populated areas. Or areas that used to be populated.
We drove very close by the town where I had lived before moving to Pemberwick Island: Greenwich, Connecticut. Part of me wanted to swing by my old house to get one last look, but I knew it would be more painful than heartwarming. I had great memories of living there. I didn’t want them spoiled by facing the reality that the kids I had gone to Glenville School with were probably all dead.
We took turns driving. I had zero experience driving on the interstate, but it wasn’t like I had to deal with traffic. The challenge was to stay alert and avoid the occasional empty car in the middle of the road.
With each passing mile, we saw more confirmation of the extent of the attack. I had been holding out hope that at some point we would find a town that hadn’t been hit and that would mark the outer edge of the Air Force’s deadly reach. It never happened. Allentown, Harrisburg, Zanesville. We passed dozens of towns, large and small. Each one was as desolate and empty as the last.
We stopped several times to siphon gas, usually picking larger SUVs and the occasional Hummer for their monstrous gas tanks. It wasn’t worth stopping for smaller cars or hybrids. We made a game out of it to keep things interesting. If you picked a car with more than ten gallons, you could skip your next turn at siphoning. It was dumb, but it helped pass the time. It wasn’t like we could listen to the radio, and nobody was in the mood to sing camp songs.
Halfway through Pennsylvania we stopped in a small town called Washington to find food. There was a Shop ’n Save grocery store that had everything. We split up and agreed to meet back at the car in twenty minutes.
I went for the produce section. Big mistake. The fruits and vegetables had long since gone bad. The sweet smell of rotting fruit made me gag. I skipped the breads, figuring they’d be stale. I went nowhere near the meat section, or the frozen food.
What it came down to, and where we all ended up, was the cereal aisle. We chowed down on our favorites. Mine was Toasted Chex. I also went through a bunch of cereal bars. After that I swung by the snack section and cracked open a can of mixed nuts. I figured they might be somewhat healthy. I then washed it all down with some warm Gatorade. It wasn’t exactly a delicious, balanced meal, but it filled me up.
With every package I opened, I took note of something that usually meant nothing to me: expiration dates. It wasn’t that I was worried about the food having gone bad, it was more about the grim reality that in spite of what seemed like an endless food supply, it wasn’t going to last forever. The expiration date was a reminder that life, and our survival challenges, would only get more difficult.
Before leaving, I went to the pharmacy, grabbed a toothbrush and toothpaste, and brushed my teeth. I kept the toothbrush and the Speed Stick deodorant that I used for a couple of quick swabs under the arms. On the way out, I picked up a few small bags of nuts for the road.
Kent was waiting at the front door, deep into a bag of Oreos.
“I hope you ate something better than that,” I said.
“Yeah,” he replied. “I polished off a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos. That’s got corn in it, right?”
I didn’t feel like getting into a discussion on the importance of eating healthy, so I just smiled and nodded.
Tori arrived with a small basket loaded with vitamins.
“I forgot to get vitamins in Springfield,” she said. “We’ve gotta be good about taking them every day.”
“What are you?” Kent asked. “My mother?”
“Do what you want,” she said. “But don’t blame me if you start feeling like crap because you’re eating only sugar and salt.”
She stuck a bottle of multivitamins in his jacket and headed for the car.
Kent said, “I think she’s got a thing for me. Should I go after that?”
All I could do was laugh and walk away, but the question bothered me. Was he right? Did Tori have a thing for Kent? She was really upset with him when he tried to kiss her at Faneuil Hall, but things had changed since then. She definitely didn’t want anything to do with me anymore, not after the shower incident. But I wanted her to trust me again. Did Kent’s question bother me because I didn’t want drama added to an already difficult situation?
Or was I jealous?
We piled back into the Explorer and drove for another few hours. By five o’clock the sun was sinking low.
“It’ll be dark soon,” I announced. “We should find a place to sleep.”
None of us wanted to be out and about at night. We hadn’t seen a single black plane since Boston, but the threat was always there. It wasn’t worth taking the chance. Besides, we’d been driving for twelve hours straight.
We found another hospital outside of Columbus, Ohio. After holing up twice in hospitals, we knew the routine. We found a big, modern medical center called Mount Carmel East that was close to the interstate. Without saying a word, we parked in front of the emergency entrance, trudged inside with our bags, and made ourselves at home.