Read Online The Borrowed World: A Novel of Post-Apocalyptic Collapse by Franklin Horton - Free Book Online Page A

crap about mental health workers.
    “Mental health?” he sneered. “Not a chance in hell.”
    “What difference does it make that we’re mental health?” Alice asked.
    “Do you know how many times we call you guys to get someone committed to a mental hospital and you say that they don’t meet the criteria?” he asked.  “It happens around here every day.”
    “Sorry,” Alice said.  “This isn’t our area.  You can’t blame us for what your local agency does.”
    “No dice.  You folks will need to turn your car around and go the other way.”
    “Why the roadblock?” Gary asked.  “I’m just curious.”
    “We were getting overrun by folks trying the same things you folks were trying – looking for someone to sell you gas.  When they couldn’t find anyone who would sell them gas, they started trying to steal gas.  My own mom called me and said she saw someone drive up to her house and cut off a section of her water hose and then use it to siphon gas out of her Buick.  When I got there, the guy looks at me as if he was doing nothing wrong.  He told me he was doing what he had to do.”
    “So you’re not letting anyone else come in?” Gary said.
    “Damn right we’re not,” the deputy said.  “Local traffic only.  You’ll find that a lot of towns off the interstate are doing the same thing.  I’ve heard talk of it on the radio.”
    “We’ll be getting out of here then,” Gary said.  “Good luck.”
    “You folks will be the ones needing luck,” the deputy replied.  “Russell County is a hell of a long way away and travel just got a lot harder.”
    With little choice, we drove back to the interstate.  Each ding of the Low Fuel alert hit me like a blow to the stomach.  What the hell were we going to do?
    “I guess we might as well try to get as far as we can,” Gary said.
    No one had any other comments or suggestions.  We were all getting hungry and more than a little scared.  Most business trips sucked but this one was off the charts.
    We ended up being able to travel another fifteen miles or so before the gas tank was dry.  In a curve, the fuel pump sucked air and the engine missed.  It smoothed out again when we came out of the curve and we all started breathing again.  Then the engine stuttered again and the car stalled completely.  Gary put the car in neutral and coasted to the side of the road, off the paved shoulder and onto a level grass spot beside the road.
    “Maybe if we leave it here they won’t tow it,” he said, scrounging for a piece of paper.  “I’ll leave a note in the window.”
    “What do we do now?” Rebecca asked.  “Sit here?”
    “No,” Alice said.  “I guess we walk to the nearest hotel.”
    “If they don’t have power, they might not be accepting new guests but we can at least try,” I said.  “I’d rather be moving than just sitting here waiting.”
    We all got out of the car and stood stretching.  A single semi-truck passed by and disappeared over the next hill, and it was the only vehicle visible.  That was definitely unusual for a busy interstate like this one.  Gary popped the trunk and we all stared at the luggage.
    “At least I don’t have to worry about carrying a suitcase,” Alice said.  “Mine is still in the other car.”  She was more than a little sarcastic.  For the first time, it was hitting her that all she had with her were the things she carried in her purse.
    “But you’re alive,” Gary reminded her.
    She didn’t say anything.
    “I think we should go through our bags and lose a few things,” I said.  “It could be a long walk and carrying a suitcase will suck.”
    I got my suitcase from the car and found a slightly more private spot in the grass away from the car to consolidate what I was taking with me.
    “That’s convenient,” Randi said, noticing the pack in my hand for the first time.  “You brought a backpack.”
    “I brought one, too,” Gary said.  “I never travel without