his keys in the ignition, I flung open the door. No luck. I needed to head back into the diner to search for the keys. Taking care not to run over the owner, I leaped behind the counter and began to turn the place upside down. Do everything you can to make it to Blaine’s , I kept reciting in my head. I checked the drawers, no keys. I checked the cash register, which was as old as dirt and easy to break into, no keys. The kitchen, the freezer, the bathroom, all with no keys. There was only one place left to check, and I was dreading it. He had been lying in a puddle of his own blood all night, and his clothes were soaked through. There were six pockets I would have to check. I started with his back pockets just to be sure. Then I moved on to his apron pockets and got lucky. I grabbed the chain and cleaned it up with a towel, along with my hands, then sprinted for the car.
Putting the key in the ignition, I prayed I had enough gas to get farther than I did last time. The engine groaned and roared, followed by a loud chugging as it continued running. The gas gauge showed empty, but old cars sometimes did that even when the tank was full, so I put it in gear and rolled out of the diner parking lot. I tried to forget what I had seen and focused on ways to survive the next two days and one night.
Once on the interstate, I made it sixty more miles before the car began to sputter and lose speed. I knew that sound. I was out of gas. Pulling the car over to the side of the road, I grabbed my pack. Before heading out on foot, I searched the trunk of the car for any supplies that I might need.
In the trunk, I found a pair of needle-nosed pliers, a crowbar, and a tire iron. I knew I could use the crowbar but didn’t think it was practical to attempt carrying it while on foot, so I shoved the pliers into the front pocket of my pack and zipped it closed. Then I took off on a jogging pace. Lack of sleep the night before was wearing on my energy. I couldn’t run as often as yesterday, and I was moving a lot slower. This was going to cut it if I only had a day and a half to get to Blaine. Three days .
I came to a little stop off the side of the interstate that had a small strip mall, gas station, and a souvenir shop. I didn’t need supplies, but I was still in desperate need of another set of wheels. It wasn’t until I was almost completely up the hill that I noticed the place was abandoned. Every window was shattered completely, and the contents of each place were thrown everywhere. It looked similar to the scene at the diner, but, as far as I could tell, there were no dead bodies. Oh please, let there be no dead bodies , I begged wordlessly.
Chapter 18
Cautiously, I crossed the parking lot to the strip mall. Every window was shattered, making the space seem like an empty shell. “Hello?” I crowed, wondering if it was in vain. “Anybody here?”
Then, I heard a shuffling of feet on broken glass from the back of the store, “Yeah, we’re here.” Coming through the back door of the shop, a woman and a child — probably about the age of ten — walked in. The child was blonde, and her hair cut in a bob to her chin, wearing pink overalls. She was holding a large dustpan, while the woman began using a push broom to sweep up the shards of glass. Staring down at the woman, I realized she couldn’t be any older than mid-twenties. If she wasn’t the little girl’s big sister, then she must have had her at a very young age.
“Just tryin’ to pick up after that tornado that ripped through here last night,” she said.
I couldn’t recall a storm last night, but I had been sleeping in a huge freezer all night, so it was a possibility. “Tornado?” I replied.
“Well, yeah! What else could there be that would do all of this damage?” she croaked, a bit of irritation in her voice. “First, the power, now this? It’s going to take all week to fix this stuff. I can’t even get the phones to work, so I can call the
Putting the key in the ignition, I prayed I had enough gas to get farther than I did last time. The engine groaned and roared, followed by a loud chugging as it continued running. The gas gauge showed empty, but old cars sometimes did that even when the tank was full, so I put it in gear and rolled out of the diner parking lot. I tried to forget what I had seen and focused on ways to survive the next two days and one night.
Once on the interstate, I made it sixty more miles before the car began to sputter and lose speed. I knew that sound. I was out of gas. Pulling the car over to the side of the road, I grabbed my pack. Before heading out on foot, I searched the trunk of the car for any supplies that I might need.
In the trunk, I found a pair of needle-nosed pliers, a crowbar, and a tire iron. I knew I could use the crowbar but didn’t think it was practical to attempt carrying it while on foot, so I shoved the pliers into the front pocket of my pack and zipped it closed. Then I took off on a jogging pace. Lack of sleep the night before was wearing on my energy. I couldn’t run as often as yesterday, and I was moving a lot slower. This was going to cut it if I only had a day and a half to get to Blaine. Three days .
I came to a little stop off the side of the interstate that had a small strip mall, gas station, and a souvenir shop. I didn’t need supplies, but I was still in desperate need of another set of wheels. It wasn’t until I was almost completely up the hill that I noticed the place was abandoned. Every window was shattered completely, and the contents of each place were thrown everywhere. It looked similar to the scene at the diner, but, as far as I could tell, there were no dead bodies. Oh please, let there be no dead bodies , I begged wordlessly.
Chapter 18
Cautiously, I crossed the parking lot to the strip mall. Every window was shattered, making the space seem like an empty shell. “Hello?” I crowed, wondering if it was in vain. “Anybody here?”
Then, I heard a shuffling of feet on broken glass from the back of the store, “Yeah, we’re here.” Coming through the back door of the shop, a woman and a child — probably about the age of ten — walked in. The child was blonde, and her hair cut in a bob to her chin, wearing pink overalls. She was holding a large dustpan, while the woman began using a push broom to sweep up the shards of glass. Staring down at the woman, I realized she couldn’t be any older than mid-twenties. If she wasn’t the little girl’s big sister, then she must have had her at a very young age.
“Just tryin’ to pick up after that tornado that ripped through here last night,” she said.
I couldn’t recall a storm last night, but I had been sleeping in a huge freezer all night, so it was a possibility. “Tornado?” I replied.
“Well, yeah! What else could there be that would do all of this damage?” she croaked, a bit of irritation in her voice. “First, the power, now this? It’s going to take all week to fix this stuff. I can’t even get the phones to work, so I can call the