“You can’t pull this off alone. It’s too big for one person,” she whispered in his ear.
“I’d still try.”
“I know you would,” she said and kissed him again. “You better say goodbye to Emily and Ethan. We need to get this show on the road.”
“Emily doesn’t look so good,” said Alex.
“She’s sixteen—and this is the second time in her life that the world as she knows it has come to an abrupt halt. I’m surprised she’s functional at all.”
“Built tough, like her mom,” said Alex.
“Are you comparing me to a Chevy truck?”
“Uh—I hadn’t intended to.”
“I didn’t think so.” She winked. “Get going.”
Kate watched Alex walk over and sit next to Emily, who looked up at her dad and forced a smile. They talked for a few minutes, and when Alex tried to get up, she grabbed his arm and cried into his shoulder. He kissed her forehead and hugged her tightly for a long moment. When he let go, she dropped herself to the ground near her mountain bike and pulled her backpack next to her. Alex shook his head at Kate as he passed her to meet Ethan on the shoulder of the road.
“Keep an eye on her,” he advised. “She’s frazzled.”
Ethan lowered his bike to the gravel as Alex approached. A quick hug and a handshake. Kate had no doubt that their brief interaction had met both of their emotional needs. Men were so different. She nodded at Alex, who blew her a kiss and made his way to Charlie and Ed near the back of the jeep. Emily would need more than that. Kate wandered over to her daughter and sat next to her in the mowed grass beyond the gravel shoulder.
“Your dad will be fine, sweetie. He’ll bring your brother home,” said Kate, putting her arm around Emily’s shoulders.
Emily leaned in, sobbing. “What if he doesn’t come back with Ryan? What if none of them make it back?” Emily asked tearfully.
Kate squeezed tighter. “They’re coming back—with your brother. I’m certain of it. Your dad can handle this.”
“But they can’t,” she said. “He should go by himself.”
Kate looked at her daughter, surprised by the realization that Emily had been paying far more attention to the situation than she had assumed. Acting aloof and oblivious to anything beyond her immediate sphere of influence had become her default mode of behavior over the past year, presumably attributable to her early teen years. Kate wondered if this wasn’t more of an act than her personality. Emily turned to face her, tears streaming down her dirty cheeks. She wiped her face with her arm, smearing freshly moistened mud across her ear.
Emily had Kate’s deep blue eyes and Alex’s darker skin. Her auburn hair was pulled into a tight ponytail that protruded from the back of her pink and gray Red Sox cap. She hadn’t been pleased with Alex’s insistence that she wear long pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Emily had compromised with a pair of hiking pants made out of a quick-dry material and a light blue running shirt. Neither of them was about to argue with her. Comfort would trump tactical for the bicycle crew. They had a long, hot day ahead of them, and nobody had opted for long sleeves.
“He can’t do this alone,” said Kate, glancing over her shoulder at the men.
“They’ll get him killed. I know it.”
“Emily, I don’t want to hear you say that again. You’re going to see your dad again—and your brother.”
“If he’s still alive,” said Emily, standing up and grabbing her backpack.
“Emily,” she hissed, “what’s going on?”
“I’m just being realistic, Mom.”
Her daughter lifted the green pack over her shoulders and tightened the straps.
“I think it’s time to go,” said Emily.
Kate stood speechless for a few moments as Emily picked up her bike and guided it toward the group forming behind the Jeep. She knew their world would never return to normal, and that the scars of leaving their life behind would run deep, but she didn’t want to lose her daughter to a fatalistic outlook that would permanently stain her future. Like Alex, she would have to keep a very close eye on Emily.
“Hold on. Let me grab my stuff,” she said, relieved to see her daughter stop and force another smile.
At least she was trying.
Chapter 23
EVENT +27:20 Hours
York, Maine
Alex felt the rumble strips pass under the Jeep’s tires, barely noticeable under a thin layer of sandy mud. Mud and debris had appeared on the turnpike a few miles past the abandoned Kennebunk rest stop, causing them to slow considerably and engage the Jeep’s four-wheel-drive system. Their planned forty-minute trip from the Maine Mall rally point had turned into an hour and a half. At one point Alex started to seriously doubt their ability to reach the York exit. The muck slowed them to ten miles per hour along the ten-mile stretch between Wells and York, where the turnpike passed a point two miles from the ocean.
Beyond the nearly impassible sludge, most of their trip had proven uneventful, yielding little insight into what had transpired the day before. Traffic had been light at five in the morning when the suspected EMP hit, leaving a sparse number of stranded motorists on either side of the six-lane highway. Most of the cars had managed to safely find the emergency lane; however, the occasional mid-highway obstacle kept them vigilant. They passed two single-car wrecks, stopping at both to check for bodies. They found none, which gave them the impression that state police still patrolled the roads.
The Jeep hit another set of rumble strips and slowed. Through binoculars, Alex saw a steeply curved wall of concrete barrier blocks diverting southbound traffic across the center divide, into the northbound lanes. A police cruiser sat at the end of the barrier. Two state troopers armed with shotguns stood on the driver side of the cruiser. Looking past the officers, Alex determined that concrete blocks were set between all of the northbound tollbooths, except for a single gap blocked by a state police cruiser. The purpose of the one gap became clear as the scene beyond the tollbooth unfolded.
“Shit. We aren’t getting through this. The entire southern side of the tollbooth is a parking lot. I see a few large tents—like a military command post or something,” said Alex.
“Both sides of the highway?” asked Charlie, from the back seat.
“Both sides, but that’s not the real problem. State troopers have the entire southbound lane blocked. Shit, I see a JLTV on the other side of the tollbooth.”
Charlie shot up in his seat, nearly knocking the binoculars out of Alex’s hands. Charlie was like an annoying child when anyone mentioned military hardware. His enthusiasm to share his vast knowledge often eclipsed any desire to hear what he had to say. Still, Alex would gladly take Charlie’s near encyclopedic recitation of information over Ed’s bare-bones knowledge of anything beyond the caliber and ammunition capacity of his Ruger 10/22 rifle.
“What kind?” uttered Charlie.
“Take a look,” he said, pushing Charlie’s face back with the binoculars.
“I’m pulling a U-turn,” said Ed.
“Hold on. Maybe there’s a way,” said Alex.
“Why take the chance? What if they have a description of our Jeep from the Best Western? We should double back to the Wells exit and take the back roads.”
“I’m with Ed on that,” said Charlie. “The less time they spend looking in our car, the better. I’m good with the back roads. By the way, that’s an AM General Bravo Blast Resistant Vehicle-Off road. Most likely Maine National Guard. Fifty cal mounted on top.”
Alex hadn’t considered the possibility that the police might have driven by the hotel within the past hour and stopped in the parking lot to investigate the commotion. He was certain that the angry crowd wouldn’t fairly represent his side of the story. Would the police be able to assess the scene and determine what really happened? Would they care enough to issue an APB? Did any of their radios work? They hadn’t picked up any local chatter on Alex’s police scanner, but most of the police departments had converted to encrypted P25 digital radio communications systems. Too many questions unanswered to take the chance.