The Survivor Chronicles: Book 1, The Upheaval (20 page)

Al began pulling on door handles, most vehicles were locked but a few opened to his incessant prodding. None of the unlocked ones still had keys inside. “People are so untrusting,” he muttered as he closed the door on a Dodge.

Mary Ellen raised an eyebrow at him and grinned. “How silly of them.”

“It is.”

She pulled on the door of a Honda and was rewarded with the muted beeping that alerted the driver they’d left their keys behind. For a second she simply stood there, startled by the sound, and uncertain what had just happened as the beeping continued onward. “Al!” she called out.

He glanced up from where he was standing by a Jeep. He hurried back to her, a subtle limp in his step now. “Finally,” he breathed in relief. “Do you know where we’re going?”

“Yes.”

“You drive, then.”

He hobbled around to the other side and threw the door open. His face scrunched in displeasure at the garbage strewn on the front seat and floor. Leaning in, he swept it onto the floor. The car reeked of fast food and sweat; she thought it most likely belonged to a teenage boy – a tall boy if the adjustment of the seat was any indication. It was almost in the backseat of the cramped and dirty car. She searched for the controls on the side of the seat and adjusted it quickly for herself. Revulsion filled her as her fingers came back with a squished fry stuck to them.

“Lovely,” Al muttered.

That wasn’t exactly what she was thinking, but she shook the fry off and started the car. “There’s not much gas.”

“Of course not.” He sighed heavily and shook his head. “We’ll just have to worry about that when it becomes a necessity. Until then, let’s just get out of this town.”

“That sounds like an amazing plan.”

She clicked her seatbelt into place and pulled onto the road. It was tedious trying to navigate through the destruction that had been wreaked in such a short time. Mary Ellen couldn’t stop herself from gaping at the town she knew so well, but scarcely recognized anymore. She didn’t realize she was crying until Al handed her a napkin from the glove box.

She wiped the tears away and tossed the napkin into the trashcan that was apparently the backseat. Al remained silent as she navigated to the highway. There were a fair amount of people on the highway, cars lined the road, most were still moving; some weren't. People were clustered in groups by the broken vehicles. It reminded her of every horrible image she'd ever seen of war torn and broken countries, except these images were from her country, her own town.

“It’s Hell,” she muttered.

“If you believe in such things.”

“Seeing is believing.”

“True. How far do you think the gas will get us?”

Mary Ellen studied the gas gauge. “We’ll get to Mass on it; I’m not sure how far we’ll get after that, though.”

Al turned back to the window; his hands were fisted on his knees as he studied the road. She fell into line with a single row of cars making their way down the tricky to navigate roadway. The simple act of driving, of doing something normal, felt good. She felt as if she was actually accomplishing something for the first time since this had all started.

The Welcome to Massachusetts sign was one of the best things she’d seen in a long time. Unfortunately, the low gas indicator started blinking only a mile or two past the sign.

“We’re not going to make it much further,” she told Al. He glanced over her shoulder and nodded as he began to rub at his knee. “Are you okay?”

He followed her pointed gaze to his knee. “It’s seventy two also,” he informed her. “And I was pretty active in my younger days.”

“You’re pretty active now.”

He smiled at her, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I doubt we’ll be able to get gas out of the stations. We’ll have to pull over, maybe find a car to siphon, or something else helpful to us.”

Mary Ellen took the next exit and drove down through the broken streets of some town she didn’t know. There were people here, gathered next to the roadside as they converged together in order to seek help or shelter. “Just keep going,” Al instructed.

She wasn’t sure how long they were going to be able to keep driving. Though she knew it wasn’t true, the indicator seemed to be blinking more incessantly at her. “Pull in here,” Al told her as they drove by the parking lot of a grocery store.

Mary Ellen drove leisurely past the cars scattered through the lot. She assumed most of them were employee vehicles. She slid the car in between two small sedans just as it began to buck from lack of gas. It died as she put it into park. “At least we made it this far.”

“Yeah,” Al agreed as he thrust open the passenger side door and climbed out. They separated to search rapidly through the cars in the lot. In the bed of a pickup truck that appeared to belong to a carpenter, she found a full can of gas. She didn’t know where the owner of the truck was, and half expected him to come out and start yelling at her, but the lot remained blessedly quiet.

“Al! Here!” she called as she labored out of the back of the truck with her find. It was heavier than she had expected, and required both her hands, but she managed to carry it back over to the Honda where Al joined her. He fiddled with the cap, unscrewing it to pull the nozzle out from inside the can. Hoisting it up, he began to pour it into the gas tank.

“Why don’t you see if you can find some sort of tubing in that truck?” Al inquired.

Mary Ellen hurried back to the blue work truck. She tore it apart, searching behind the seats and in the tool boxes, but she found nothing of use amongst the assortment of tools. Frustration filled her as she slapped the truck seat back into place. At least they would have enough gas to get them a little bit further in their journey.

She hurried back to Al, eager to get out of this town. Al shoved the small tube back into the gas can and closed it. “I couldn’t find anything.”

He nodded as he opened the trunk and stashed the can inside. “Let’s get out of here.”

It took a few tries, and a lot of chugging, but the engine finally fired to life again. Mary Ellen shifted into drive and pulled out of the parking spot. Al turned to the backseat and began to hunt for something; Mary Ellen wasn’t at all surprised when he turned back around with a handgun. He rested it on his thigh as he warily studied the streets they drove through.

She drove back toward the highway, trying to avoid the obstacles that had been tossed into their way by the tremors that had rocked the area. The entrance ramp to the highway was blocked by an overturned bread truck; she had to drive onto the grass median in order to get around it.

“Hold on a second.” She barely had time to stop the car before Al was leaping out. Her stomach churned as she watched him circle around the truck. She didn’t know what he was going to do until he began to tug on the backdoors of the vehicle. The right door had been broken by the crash and didn't open, but fell off the back of the truck. Al stared at it before shaking his head and disappearing into the back.

He emerged a minute later with loaves of bread, muffins, and a box of cookies tucked under his arm. Mary Ellen shut the car down and hopped out. “Stay with the car,” he told her as he tossed the newfound supplies into the backseat. “I’ll only be a minute more.”

Mary Ellen rested her arms on top of the door, and on the dirty roof of the dingy yellow car. She sensed the presence of someone new, someone who wasn’t supposed to be there with them, before she saw him. Turning, she swallowed heavily as she spotted a rugged looking man, perhaps in his late thirties, standing about ten feet away from her. His face was covered with graying scruff; his overly large eyes seemed wilder than they should have been, even after the events of the day.

“Ma’am,” he greeted and briefly touched the brim of his baseball cap.

There was nothing overtly wrong with the man; he seemed harmless enough as he offered a small smile, but she couldn’t shake the concern clawing its way up her throat. Perhaps it was Al’s insistence that no one was to be trusted, or her years of poor treatment at Larry’s hands, but she lowered her arms from the car as she prepared to jump back inside. She wasn’t a good judge of character – hence, her crappy marriage – but right now a part of her was screaming to get away. To get far away from this man.

“Ma’am, I need a ride.”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you,” she informed him.

He moved a couple of steps closer to her. “Ma’am, it’s only a short ride to Rhode Island.”

“We’re staying in Mass.”

He paused, staring at her. “Like I said, it’s only a short trip.”

Mary Ellen slid back into the car and pulled the door shut behind her. Rolling the window up, she locked the doors as the man stepped next to the car.

“Hey! Come on!” His hands slapped against the glass of the driver’s side window. She fumbled with the key in the ignition. She didn’t know where Al was, but she was going to have the car ready for him when he reemerged from the bread truck.

She had just gotten the car started when two loud shots rent the air. A scream escaped her; she threw her hands up as she instinctively dove downward. Then she realized who had fired the shots and she lurched back upright. Al had reappeared from the bread truck; he was just lowering his arm from the two shots he had fired into the air. Mary Ellen shifted the car into reverse as the stranger took a couple of steps back, his hands raised as Al leveled the gun at his chest. Mary Ellen pulled up beside Al and leaned over to open the door for him.

Al’s arm didn’t waver, he kept the gun leveled on the man’s chest as he tossed a couple bags of rolls into the backseat and slid into the car. She was still shaking as he closed the door and locked it. She didn’t know where her unassuming, well-mannered neighbor had gone, but she was exceptionally grateful for the bad ass who had taken his place as he locked the passenger door.

“Let’s hope we don’t have to stop again for awhile,” he muttered.

Mary Ellen managed a small nod as she glanced at the man that had been harassing her. His hands were still in the air as she drove past him. They had gotten lucky, this time. There was no guarantee they would be so lucky again in the future.

CHAPTER 15

Riley

Foxboro, Mass.

They stayed within the tree line moving as fast as they could along the edge of the woods. Riley’s gaze kept going back to the homes, they were dark and foreboding, and she was terrified by who might be lurking within them. She expected someone to start shooting at them any minute. She yearned to move deeper into the forest, but after the events of the day, no one was willing to accidentally stumble across whatever new hazard might now be lurking within the woods.

The unknown hazards within the homes, and the unknown dangers of the earth were scary, but most of her attention had become focused on the sky. She kept expecting a seven-forty-seven to drop on her head at any second. She tried not to think about it, but couldn’t fully tear her thoughts away from the people up there, trapped and helpless. Her heart ached for them. It was bad enough down here, but she was extremely grateful that she had her feet planted firmly on the not-so-steady ground.

A thin branch slapped her in the face, drawing her attention harshly back to the forest surrounding her. She rubbed her face, already feeling a small welt forming on her cheek as Xander turned toward her. She frowned at him, somehow certain that it had been his fault the branch had caught her. His smile didn’t help.

“I bet that tickled.” Bobby said as he leaned around her and pushed the branch out of her way.

“Like a toothache,” she retorted dryly.

Bobby just continued to grin at her as he pressed his hand briefly into her back to get her moving again. Riley resumed walking, but she certainly didn’t have the same speed or stamina she’d had earlier in the day. She was thankful she’d always been an athlete, but even so, her feet were beginning to throb and her legs were achy and tired. It wasn’t that far to the stadium, she usually ran more distance in a day than they had already covered, but the uneven terrain and the stress of the day were wearing heavily on her aching body.