cords.
On the way home, they drove past
the grocery store. How much food had rotted in there since the power went out
yesterday morning? The milk had probably turned by now, and the meat too. It
had been right there, and he had screwed up the chance to get it.
There's powdered milk, and
dried meat, he tried to tell himself . Plenty of bagged beef jerky in
there. We'll be fine. He took a deep breath, and tried to believe it.
610 looked as terrible as ever,
but the bridge was still clear. Another ten minutes, and they saw home.
"Well, look at that," Alan said. "It's still here."
A neighbor on the other side of
the cul-de-sac did have a tree down, but for the most part, the whole
area had weathered the storm well. He made Todd come with him as he finished a
visual inspection of the house, making sure there was no damage. All the glass
was intact, all the walls in one piece. Lucky.
They went inside. With no small
effort, he managed to move the generator out to the deck, then brought up the
gas cans and filled it up. When it started on the first pull, he could've wept
with relief.
The thing had four outlets. He ran
extension cords into the house, then plugged in the fridge, the freezer, and a
lamp. "All right," he said. "Go ahead. 3DS right here."
Todd dashed back to grab his game
machine. That was when Alan noticed that one of the lanterns they'd left on the
counter yesterday was now sitting on the couch.
"Did you move that
lantern?" he asked when Todd came back.
Todd looked. "No. I don't think so."
"Well think back, Todd, when
I was on the deck setting up the generator, did you move it?"
"No." He shook his head
emphatically. "No way."
They'd left both the
lanterns sitting on the counter yesterday; Alan was sure of it. Yes, there'd
been a storm since then, but all the windows were intact, the doors had been
closed, and nothing else was moved. The wind hadn't done this.
Get out of the house, something
told him. There is something here.
He took Todd and did a thorough
inspection all over again: basement, ground floor, upstairs. Nothing else was
out of place.
With the fridge running and a
light on, the place actually felt like home. Todd was going to play on his 3DS,
just like normal; they could have dinner in the living room watching TV if they
wanted, just like normal. The word normal had never been so tantalizing.
A niggling confusion about where they'd left the lanterns yesterday wasn't
enough to justifying leaving now.
You said you'd start making the
right calls, the same voice whispered.
I am, Alan insisted. This
is the right call. What, we're supposed to sleep in some weird house every time
one of us moves something and forgets about it?
No, it shot back, you're
supposed to sleep in a weird house every night from here on out. You should be
on the move, trying to find other people, not just sitting here like an idiot,
waiting to die.
Alan gritted his teeth, scanning
the living room one more time. Even if something had moved the lantern—a
raccoon that had survived, or something—there was no evidence that it was
dangerous. He shook his head; he was sick of lurching from plan to plan, driven
forward solely by panic. "Come on. We're going to the grocery store."
26
Just like they had at the hardware
store, cars had shattered the glass storefront at Crown Foods. They had bulled
into the registers, knocking over candy and magazine displays, and then idled
until they ran out of gas. One was still going even now, two full days after
crashing. Alan had Todd wait outside as he crunched through the glass to turn
it off.
Inside, the smell of exhaust was
powerful, but not overwhelming; most of it was escaping outside. Crown had a
lot of food and they couldn't afford to lose it, but it wouldn't do them any
good if they died of carbon monoxide poisoning, either. He stood for awhile,
breathing, to make sure it was safe.
Crown had a smaller entrance on
the far end of the building's front, which hadn't been damaged.
On the way home, they drove past
the grocery store. How much food had rotted in there since the power went out
yesterday morning? The milk had probably turned by now, and the meat too. It
had been right there, and he had screwed up the chance to get it.
There's powdered milk, and
dried meat, he tried to tell himself . Plenty of bagged beef jerky in
there. We'll be fine. He took a deep breath, and tried to believe it.
610 looked as terrible as ever,
but the bridge was still clear. Another ten minutes, and they saw home.
"Well, look at that," Alan said. "It's still here."
A neighbor on the other side of
the cul-de-sac did have a tree down, but for the most part, the whole
area had weathered the storm well. He made Todd come with him as he finished a
visual inspection of the house, making sure there was no damage. All the glass
was intact, all the walls in one piece. Lucky.
They went inside. With no small
effort, he managed to move the generator out to the deck, then brought up the
gas cans and filled it up. When it started on the first pull, he could've wept
with relief.
The thing had four outlets. He ran
extension cords into the house, then plugged in the fridge, the freezer, and a
lamp. "All right," he said. "Go ahead. 3DS right here."
Todd dashed back to grab his game
machine. That was when Alan noticed that one of the lanterns they'd left on the
counter yesterday was now sitting on the couch.
"Did you move that
lantern?" he asked when Todd came back.
Todd looked. "No. I don't think so."
"Well think back, Todd, when
I was on the deck setting up the generator, did you move it?"
"No." He shook his head
emphatically. "No way."
They'd left both the
lanterns sitting on the counter yesterday; Alan was sure of it. Yes, there'd
been a storm since then, but all the windows were intact, the doors had been
closed, and nothing else was moved. The wind hadn't done this.
Get out of the house, something
told him. There is something here.
He took Todd and did a thorough
inspection all over again: basement, ground floor, upstairs. Nothing else was
out of place.
With the fridge running and a
light on, the place actually felt like home. Todd was going to play on his 3DS,
just like normal; they could have dinner in the living room watching TV if they
wanted, just like normal. The word normal had never been so tantalizing.
A niggling confusion about where they'd left the lanterns yesterday wasn't
enough to justifying leaving now.
You said you'd start making the
right calls, the same voice whispered.
I am, Alan insisted. This
is the right call. What, we're supposed to sleep in some weird house every time
one of us moves something and forgets about it?
No, it shot back, you're
supposed to sleep in a weird house every night from here on out. You should be
on the move, trying to find other people, not just sitting here like an idiot,
waiting to die.
Alan gritted his teeth, scanning
the living room one more time. Even if something had moved the lantern—a
raccoon that had survived, or something—there was no evidence that it was
dangerous. He shook his head; he was sick of lurching from plan to plan, driven
forward solely by panic. "Come on. We're going to the grocery store."
26
Just like they had at the hardware
store, cars had shattered the glass storefront at Crown Foods. They had bulled
into the registers, knocking over candy and magazine displays, and then idled
until they ran out of gas. One was still going even now, two full days after
crashing. Alan had Todd wait outside as he crunched through the glass to turn
it off.
Inside, the smell of exhaust was
powerful, but not overwhelming; most of it was escaping outside. Crown had a
lot of food and they couldn't afford to lose it, but it wouldn't do them any
good if they died of carbon monoxide poisoning, either. He stood for awhile,
breathing, to make sure it was safe.
Crown had a smaller entrance on
the far end of the building's front, which hadn't been damaged.
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