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“No sleeping bags?” said Samantha. “We don’t have Gore-Tex shells.”

“If you have some highly compressible bags, that should be fine. I was just trying to keep the weight to a minimum. Water, MREs, first aid and tents are the highest priority,” said Alex.

“And weapons,” added Kate.

“Recommended weapons and ammunition are listed at the bottom. I’d arm the kids if practical,” said Alex.

“What about the Homeland Security mandate?” Linda asked. “I can’t exactly conceal an AR-15.”

“I think you and Kate should plan to break down the rifles and stash them in your packs until you’ve cleared Scarborough. Shouldn’t take more than ten seconds to put one of the ARs into action from the pack if required. Once you hit the back roads near Gorham, you can reassemble and sling them. Everyone should stash their pistols in one of the easy-to-access pouches on your pack, just in case you run into any immediate trouble before clearing town. Holsters too. No reason to give them an excuse to search you. Make sure you wear long pants with cargo pockets for the spare mags,” said Alex.

Kate asked, “What if we’re stopped and searched in Scarborough?”

“The police will have too much on their plate to bother with that. As long as the weapons aren’t obvious, I can’t imagine they’ll bother,” said Alex.

“What if they do?”

“Then you turn over your weapons without incident. Not much you can do in that situation. The last thing we want is trouble with the police. That doesn’t go away,” said Alex, and Kate nodded agreement.

Alex flattened one of the maps. “I’ve highlighted what I think is the best route out of town, with a few alternatives. For security reasons, I haven’t highlighted the entire route. This gets you to Route 5, in East Waterboro. From there it’s pretty much a straight shot to Limerick. Kate knows where to go from there.”

Charlie examined the map and shook his head. “I don’t know if this route will be passable.”

“The mud is going to be rough getting out of here,” Alex told him, “but here’s what I figured we’d do to make it easier for them, without making multiple trips back into the neighborhood.”

“Not here. I mean along Route 1. The Nonesuch River crosses Route 1 just south of where Harrison Road intersects—”

“It’s more of a creek,” interrupted Alex.

“True, but water follows the path of least resistance, and the creek lies lower than the rest of the land. I guarantee the tsunami channeled up through the creek and over Route 1, dumping a ton of mud along the way. Hell, the marsh extending past Pine Point Beach extends into half of southern Scarborough—all less than a mile from Route 1. The whole marsh is at sea level. I wouldn’t count on them passing through much of downtown Scarborough.”

“I think he’s right, Alex,” said Ed.

“That would be a first,” added Linda Thornton, winking at her husband.

“Always busting my chops,” said Charlie.

“Good call, Charlie,” Alex admitted. “I wanted to avoid routing them toward the Maine Mall, but we might not have a choice. At least the roads should be clear of mud and debris north of the Harrison intersection. Let’s rework the route while we’re here.”

Samantha turned to Alex. “I want to hear more about your plan to get us past this mud.”

“Here’s what I was thinking… we can’t make multiple trips back to the neighborhood with Ed’s Jeep. Once that engine roars to life, everyone in the neighborhood will be watching. If it returns multiple times, we’re going to have a crisis on our hands. It’ll be like the last helicopter out of Saigon.”

Charlie chuckled. “That’s a great image, Alex.”

“Which I don’t want to repeat here,” Alex went on. “So, the bicycle group will leave first and walk their bicycles to the fire station. Mountain bikes or hybrids only for this trip. Will that be a problem for any family? I have an extra mountain bike in my basement.”

Everyone indicated that they could provide enough bikes.

“We’ll have to inspect and lubricate each bike. I’ll leave it to the bike group to put together a repair kit,” said Alex.

Kate nodded. “We’ll take care of it.”

“Once you’ve all arrived at the station,” he said, nodding to Kate, “call us via handheld radio or satphone. We’ll start the Jeep and meet you there to transport the bikes and riders to a dry point along Route 1. You’ll have to deal with this nasty shit for about a quarter of a mile, but that’s it.”

“I can live with that,” said Samantha.

“We should all wear throwaway shoes and socks for this part,” Linda chimed in. “Have your real boots or whatever stuffed away in the backpacks.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” said Alex. “We’ll bring a few towels in the Jeep so everyone can wipe off their feet before the trip. You don’t want to start out with wet feet. Once we get everyone in place along Route 1, we’ll split up and stay in touch. I think we should check in via satphone every two hours.”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

“Do your parents have a satphone, Alex? Can we call them along the way?” asked Samantha.

“They do, but I haven’t been able to contact them with mine. They might not even realize there’s a problem yet. The farm is at least another thirty miles inland.”

“Yeah, but they’ll notice that the power is out and the cars aren’t working. They’ll turn the phone on at some point,” said Charlie.

“I don’t know. The farm is isolated enough to keep neighbors from walking over to say hi. Nearest house is at least a half mile down the road. They’re in their early seventies and don’t typically go anywhere during the week. They might not discover their car problem until they decide to grab lunch or dinner in Limerick.”

“But the power’s out. If they have solar, that should raise some questions,” said Charlie.

“They call me with all of those questions, and not by satphone. I guarantee they won’t figure out it was an EMP until they try to start the cars. Even then they might think the batteries died or something. Don’t be surprised if you deliver the bad news about the EMP when you arrive,” Alex said.

“How long do you think you’ll be gone?” Linda asked.

“I think we’ll try to use the turnpike to reach Kittery, then maybe cross the bridge if it’s serviceable. If not, we’ll head west along the New Hampshire border and cross at the least crowded point. My goal is to reach 125 and take that until Kingston; then we’ll do a combination of 107 and 108 to Haverhill—”

“Haverhill? That’s a lot of people in one place,” Charlie remarked.

“I don’t think we can avoid Haverhill. We need to get over the Merrimack, and I’m not sure about crossing options east of Haverhill. This point,” he said, landing a pencil on Haverhill, “is about ten miles from the coast. Up here that wouldn’t be a problem, but based on the direction of the wave, wind and flash that I saw this morning the asteroid—if it was an asteroid—hit closer to the beach down here.”

“Going west would be way worse in terms of population,” muttered Ed. “You’ve got Lawrence and Lowell here.”

“What about trying to cross at West Newbury?” Kate suggested. “There has to be a way to get there without going through Haverhill. If the bridge is down, you can drive back to Haverhill.”

“Let me check on that,” Alex said.

He pulled a softbound map book of New England from his backpack and feverishly searched for the page with a detailed street map corresponding to the area Kate had pointed out on the larger map. He found the map and confirmed the validity of her idea.