Impact: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival series (Cloverdale Book 1) Page 6

  Vince didn’t mind the little dog and had in fact grown fond of her over the years. She was an energetic little thing and sometimes moved about so fast it was comical. He got a kick out of watching her chase the chickens around the yard when they wandered too close to her outdoor water bowl.

  But they wouldn’t have the windows down on their drive today. And there’d be no more going to the Chocolate Moose on quiet Sunday evenings. This would most likely be the worst drive they would ever take together. Their town, the place they were born and raised, was dying before their eyes. And there wasn’t much they could do about it other than try to save as many people as they could. On his way out to Mary’s, though, Vince began to doubt they would find many survivors.

  If power was lost and all things electronic were hit with a pulse of electricity strong enough to cause fires and melt wiring, then battery backed-up smoke alarms wouldn’t be much use. He imagined a lot of folks never woke up this morning and never would again. It seemed that the majority of the houses and buildings in town were on fire. He wondered if the solar electric system he installed at the garage had saved it from a similar fate.

  Vince educated himself on solar systems before he signed on the dotted line with an installation company. Indiana had some great incentive programs, and one of them was the net metering program, which allowed him to sell the extra electricity he generated with the rooftop panels back to the power company for credits in kilowatt hours.

  This required the installation of a net meter with a master shut-off switch so any extra electricity he generated beyond what the storage batteries could hold went back to the grid. The cut-off switch had an inline circuit breaker between it, and the inverter was specifically designed to protect against a surge of power in either direction. That was probably what saved his shop. In fact, Mary had solar panels on her barn out back, and they might have saved her house too.

  If the circuit breaker had done its job—and he assumed it did, since both the garage and Mary’s house were still standing—then the inverter must have been protected as well. The inverter changed the DC current from the panels on the roof to usable AC current. If that was the case, then it should be fairly easy to turn the power back on at both places. At least, that was what he was counting on. But power was far from being a priority. Right now, they had people to save and supplies to gather—if they were lucky enough to find either.

  Chapter Thirteen

  As Cy and Reese approached the motel, Cy noticed an old Jeep in the parking lot. He didn’t remember seeing it parked there when they were across the street at his dad’s shop, but it would have been easy to miss in the chaos. He pulled in slowly and parked by the front office and check-in desk.

  “I’ll go try and find a room key. Why don’t you check on them and see if the boy is all right? We can get them set up in one of the rooms and head back out.” Cy turned the truck off as he looked back at their passengers. They needed to get the boy inside and out of the smoke, but he wasn’t sure about the heading back out part.

  “Sounds good. Looks like he’s doing better. I wasn’t even sure he was alive when we first found them,” Reese said, glancing back.

  “I know. Me neither.” Cy rolled his eyes before he hopped out and headed toward the motel. He could hear Reese pleading with Buster to stay put as she got out of the truck to check on the boy and his parents.

  He looked over at the first red door to the right of the front office: room 101. He assumed the keys would be easy to find and figured he’d grab the one for the closest room to the truck. No point in carrying the supplies any farther than they had to. Should they keep the stuff they had gathered here? Or maybe it might be better to take it over to his dad’s garage. He already had an uneasy feeling about waltzing into a strange motel and helping himself to room keys.

  As he entered the office, he looked around and made his way behind the counter. There was a small office just beyond the counter, and inside was a board with a row of room keys dangling neatly. He darted to the board and grabbed the oversized plastic tag with “101” on it. He paused for a second, then grabbed the key for room 102. They could put the stuff there for now and move it later if his dad wanted.

  “Hold it right there.” Cy froze in his tracks and did as the stern voice behind him ordered. “Get your hands up where I can see them!” the voice continued. He complied and raised his hands without turning around.

  “What are you doing in here?” the voice asked.

  Cy turned to face the shiny silver barrel of a large revolver pointed directly at him. He could see into the open-ended cylinders of the gun and noticed the hollowed-out tips of each bullet. The gun was definitely loaded, and this was really happening. The man holding the gun looked to be about his dad’s age and wore a camouflage baseball cap. From the look on his face, Cy guessed that he wasn’t fooling around or afraid to use the gun.

  “I… I’m Vince Walker’s son, Cy. We have some people that need medical attention. My dad said to use the motel.”

  Just then, Reese came in and startled the man. He nervously spun around and pointed the gun in her direction, then back at Cy. He backpedaled to the other side of the room so he could keep an eye on them both. He juggled the gun back and forth, keeping it trained on them as best as he could.

  “Get over there with him. Both of you, keep your hands where I can see them,” he barked.

  Reese joined Cy by the front desk, keeping her hands up as she moved. “We’re not here to cause any trouble. We have a family out there in need of help. We were just going to use a room here temporarily. We’re with the Major,” she pleaded.

  “And what makes you think you can do that, huh?” the man snarled.

  This wasn’t going well, and the man seemed to be getting more agitated every time they tried to explain their situation. Cy wished his dad would hurry up and get back. They could really use some help right about now.

  “Are you part of the gang that’s been breaking into people places around town lately?” The man pointed with the gun as he talked.

  “No, we don’t know anything about that. I told you I’m Vince Walker’s son. This is Reese Morgan. Her parents live just outside town. My dad and her parents will be back any minute. It was their idea to use the motel for the time being. Why would we break into a motel with all this going on?” Cy looked out the window, then back at the man. He could tell the man didn’t know what to do and was confused.

  “Jim, what are you doing? Put the gun down before you hurt somebody.” The man that Cy and Reese had picked up in town, along with the boy and mother, stormed into the office. He coughed as he spoke.

  “But they were… I was…” The man stuttered as the expression on his face changed from anger to embarrassment. He slowly lowered the gun and looked down, clearly ashamed.

  “Are you really the Major’s boy?”

  The gun hung limply at his side now, and before Cy could answer, the man spoke up again. “These two just saved my son’s life. If it wasn’t for them, well, I don’t know.” The man approached Reese and Cy and extended a hand in Cy’s direction.

  “I never really got to thank you two properly or introduce myself. I could hardly breathe when you guys found us, let alone talk. The name’s Tom. My wife Beverly and I are forever grateful for what you did for us and our boy, Ryan. We’re all lucky to be alive. We barely made it out of our house this morning.”

  Cy nodded and took Tom’s hand. “No problem. Glad to be able to help.”

  Tom shook Reese’s hand next, and Cy kept an eye on the man with the gun, who was now shuffling toward them. “I’m really sorry about that,” Jim said and offered his hand as well. “I guess I’m a little on edge and got carried away.”

  “It’s okay.” Glancing at Reese, Cy took what felt like the first breath he’d taken since staring down the barrel of a loaded gun. Thank God Tom had come in when he had. There was no telling how this would have gone down without his interference.

  Cy suddenly realiz
ed how tightly he was holding the room keys in his left hand and loosened his grip. They had dug into his palm, leaving a red key-shaped impression.

  “We need to get your son into a room,” Reese reminded everyone and took one of the keys from Cy. “We also need to unload the truck and get back out there to look for anything or anyone else we can save.”

  She was right. At the rate things were burning, they didn’t have long before all was lost. If there were any others out there, they needed to find them—and fast.

  The smoke was thicker than Cy remembered, and when they left the motel office, he repositioned the mask on his face, squeezing the wire around the nose piece to create a better seal. Outside room 101, Tom’s wife and son sat with their backs against the building. The boy still had the oxygen mask on his face and was breathing heavily into it. His mother rubbed his shoulders with one hand and wiped at her soot-covered face with the other. She managed a crooked smile when she saw Cy coming toward them with the room key.

  He pressed his shoulder into the door and pushed as he turned the key. The stubborn red door gave way with a groan, and he stepped into a motel room straight out of the ’70s. Reese and Tom helped the boy and his mother inside and led them over to the bed. They got the boy situated and propped him up on his side with a couple pillows while Cy headed back out to unload what they gathered from the drug store.

  Jim followed him out to the Toyota, and Cy threw him the key to room 102.

  “Let’s put these supplies in the next room over for now.” Jim opened up the room before rejoining Cy at the back of the truck.

  Buster steamed up the windows inside the Toyota with his hot breath as he bounded from window to window in excitement. Reese and Tom joined them shortly and helped with the last few baskets of supplies.

  “Does the Jeep run?” Cy asked.

  Jim nodded. “It does.”

  “Good. Why don’t you and Tom follow us back into town and help us look for people and supplies? You up for that?” Cy looked at Tom, who launched into another fit of coughing while carrying the last basket to the room.

  Tom cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

  “All right then. Let’s get going,” Cy said.

  “We’ll be right behind you. Let me tell my wife where we’re going.”

  “Good, she can stay here and let the others know where we are when they get here,” Reese added.

  Tom nodded in agreement and headed for the room.

  “All right. Let’s do this.” Cy opened the driver’s door and was greeted by an overly excited Buster. The whole truck smelled like dog, even through the mask. It was the first time Cy noticed a smell other than smoke. Buster jumped to the other side as Reese got in, whipping Cy in the face with his tail as it wagged.

  “Sorry about that,” she said, shaking her head. “He has no idea what’s going on.”

  “He’s lucky.” Cy started the truck and began backing up as Buster settled into the middle of the seat and leaned into him.

  He flicked the headlights on, though he wasn’t sure why he bothered. The lights made little difference in terms of visibility, but it was all they had. At the very least, maybe they would let others see them on the road. The last thing they needed was to get into an accident. He waited at the exit from the motel parking lot until Jim and Tom were behind them in the Jeep. Creeping out onto the street, he turned toward town and headed into the dark gray wall of smoke that drifted across the road.

  The motel soon faded from sight in the rearview mirror, and Cy hoped the others were okay. He shot Reese an uneasy look. He could hardly believe they were going back out into this, but what choice did they have?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Vince and Mary headed north on Lincoln Avenue, back toward Main Street. On the front seat, Nugget sat patiently between them, sniffing loudly, occasionally getting more than she bargained for in the soot-laden air, and sneezing as a result. This reminded Vince of the extra masks he had, so he reached into the back seat and grabbed one for Mary.

  “Here you go. Better put this on. It gets worse,” Vince warned.

  Mary took the mask and pulled the yellow strap over her head as she looked out the window. Squeezing the nose piece, she took a deep breath. “Thanks.”

  She glanced at him but quickly turned her attention back to the chaos outside the car. As they made their way closer to town, the air began to grow thicker with smoke. Soon, visibility was so poor that Vince had to slow down to a frustratingly slow speed.

  Mary stared in silence at the burning houses as they drove. Vince kept his eyes on the road and turned his headlights on out of instinct. The lights didn’t make any noticeable difference and only seemed to highlight the particles drifting through the air. It reminded him of driving through a heavy snowstorm.

  “Wow, I can’t believe this,” Mary mumbled through the mask as she shook her head.

  It was a lot to take in. House after house was on fire, and Vince realized that even if some of the homes had been spared initially, they would soon catch fire from the flames drifting over from their neighbors. There was nothing to stop it. The only places that would survive were those that had space around them and hadn’t caught fire by themselves. He noticed a difference already, even though he came through this part of town not that long ago. The smoke was thicker and the fires larger.

  At that moment, Vince thought about his good friend John and his deputies. They had been out and about early this morning. Surely they were still okay, out here in this mess somewhere, no doubt fighting their own battles. If their vehicles were running, they all probably went to help their families first, and who could blame them?

  As Vince turned onto Main Street, they passed a large oak tree on the corner. It was completely engulfed in fire, no doubt caused by the flames jumping from the house next to it. To make matters worse, the wind was picking up. He couldn’t tell if the fires or the weather caused it. There were small whirlwinds of fire rising up here and there, and for the first time since this started, Vince felt completely helpless. Maybe this was a foolish thing to be doing. Should they abandon looking for people and supplies and hunker down somewhere safe?

  It was getting harder to breathe by the minute, and the cheap dust masks weren’t up to the task. The burning in Vince’s throat had gone from a minor irritation to a constant annoyance, and he decided then and there that they needed to get through town and find the kids. They were going to have to cut their losses and get out of this smoke. He felt guilty now for taking Mary from her house. She would have been better off there. If not for the others, he would have turned around and gone back.

  “I don’t think we should be out in this. I can take you back home,” he said between coughs.

  “Nonsense. Let’s find the others first and then we can all go back to my house.” Mary handed Vince one of the waters she brought from her house. He moved the mask to the side and took a drink. It helped his throat, but he knew it was only temporary. They couldn’t keep this up for long. This rescue attempt was quickly turning into survival for them.

  Vince felt Mary’s fingernails dig into his arm before he saw the small herd of deer run across the road in front of them.

  “Look out!” she yelled.

  Vince slammed on the brakes just in time, narrowly avoiding one of them as they crossed. A large doe paused in front of the wagon and stared at them before resuming her sprint away from the flaming houses. Nugget regained her composure from the sudden stop and put her front paws on the dashboard. At the sight of the deer, she let out several sharp barks before Mary pulled her down onto the seat.

  “Easy, girl. It’s all right,” Mary said, but the little dog barked a few more times.

  Vince watched as the last of the deer disappeared into the smoke. “Looks like we’re not the only ones trying to get out of here.” He shook his head in disgust. This was a bad idea; he should have made them all wait this out at his garage or the motel. He was beginning to wonder if they were going to
make it out of here. There were times when the wind blew just right so that the road was completely covered with smoke and flames. He wanted to go faster, but it was impossible to do so safely and would have been foolish.

  Thanks to the abandoned cars on the road and the drifting smoke, it took all his concentration to stay out of trouble and avoid hitting something. He really wished he had a way of communicating with the kids. Maybe they had given up and gone back to the garage. But he knew that was wishful thinking. Cy wasn’t the type to give up easily and had a tendency to be downright stubborn when it came to tackling a challenge. And while that wasn’t normally a bad thing, it could be dangerous now. He just hoped that determination didn’t get them into trouble. If anything happened to either one of them, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.

  They continued to inch their way toward the north end of town, where Vince’s shop and the motel were located. Except for the occasional gasp, Mary was still silent, and Vince didn’t blame her. It was a lot to take in, and it was hard to believe that their hometown and everything they knew had been reduced to this hellish wasteland so quickly.

  The drive to the shop this morning had been so peaceful. The summer seemed full of hope and opportunity. Vince had been looking forward to this time with Cy for so long. Now, in a matter of hours, all those hopes and plans had been laid to ruin.

  He felt Mary’s hand on his arm again, but this time he saw it too. A toppled house completely blocked the street in front of them. Vince stopped the car and took it in for a minute, thinking about the best way around. He considered driving through the yard on the other side of the street, but the heat was too intense, and as he angled the car toward the far side of the road and started to plot a course around the collapsed house, the wind picked up. The sudden gust coaxed the burning debris into a frenzy of swirling embers that headed directly toward them. Before he could react, the paint on the hood began to blister and brown. As soon as he realized what was happening, he slammed the wagon into reverse and spun the wheels on the ash-covered road. He didn’t slow down until he put a good distance between them and the fire.