EMP Catastrophe by Hamilton, Grace (books to read in your 20s female .txt) 📗

silver truck and relaxed against it. The sky still looked blue, but at least a couple of white clouds began to cover the beating heat. His hand rubbed at his chest, and Matthew nudged him, standing beside him.

“What do you think about walking home?” he suggested lightly, knowing it was anything but. “I think our transportation options are limited. Doesn’t look like we’ll be heading out of here anytime soon unless it’s on foot. We could try to hitch a ride.”

David looked concerned. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and Matthew noted a red flush to his cheeks, the beginning of a sunburn perhaps. “I don’t know, Matt,” he said, sounding breathless. “I know it’s not logical, but my gut doesn’t trust a lot of people that are driving around right now. We can’t find a bus or a cab to get us to Galena.”

“If we start walking, we might run into someone who can help us,” Matthew suggested. “We might see a bus or flag down a cab. I can make a compelling argument for getting us where we need to go.”

“Hitchhiking went out of style in the 1970s,” David said with a weak grin.

Please take a pill, Matthew thought. He didn’t want to keep hounding his father about his health, didn’t want to add a fight on top of the situation, but at the same time, David’s overall appearance looked wan and gray.

“Well, maybe we need to bring it back in vogue.” Matthew said. “I don’t know. Option one is we can hang out here and see what happens.”

“I hate waiting,” David said. “Waste of time.”

“Then our second option is to start heading back to Galena on foot and see what kind of help we can find along the way. Seriously though, Dad, waiting might be the best option for us, especially with, you know…”

“My heart.” David’s voice was flat.

“Right.”

“What if the power never comes back on?” he said softly, as if it was a thought he’d been mulling over all morning. “What if we can’t ever get a hold of Ruth?”

“That’s a bit nihilistic.” Matthew shook his head. David always pondered worst-case scenarios instead of looking on the bright side. “At some point, things will get turned back on. We just don’t know when.”

David took in a deep breath. “I need to go home, Matthew.”

“Okay, then we walk,” Matthew said. They’d go slow, take their time. Matthew would talk to everyone he could, look for help on every block. The outage couldn’t be that widespread. At some point, they’d find help who could either get them home or get them to a place where they could call for help. His whole life had been focused on business, but business was more than numbers and selling and profits. It was also about people: how to read them, how talk to them, how to make connections. If you put good out into the world, that good will come back to you.

He just hoped David could make it long enough for them to find the help they needed.

6

Driving from the green pastures of Galena to the concrete urbanity of Madison earlier that morning had taken Matthew just over two hours—he remembered the slow transition of the flat square farmlands to concrete sound barriers enclosing traffic—and he had sent a grateful thank you into the sky that the Riley family had moved to the country. Then, the highway had been devoid of shade but full to the brim of cars passing him as he cruised the asphalt at a speed that wouldn't have David sweating in concern. Now, standing—no, more like stranded—in the parking lot, Matthew wished with all his heart they’d stayed closer to Galena. He imagined that hot stretch of main road in a whole new light: being exposed, without water or facilities. Still, the fastest way to a destination was a straight line.

“Walking the highway would be the fastest way back.” Matthew spoke his mind as dread twisted like a snake tighter in his belly.

David nodded. “Easier, too. But dangerous.”

“All the traffic,” Matthew said. The bright flash of imagined cars rushing past him filled his mind, how roadkill smearing the pavement always made Allison screech a bit in empathy.

“But there's a good chance the cars might not be working, either,” David pointed out. “Things could be completely dead out there.”

“The cars will be working,” Matthew responded, more aggressively than he meant to. “That’s the whole point of hitting the highway. We want to find someone to pick us up and give us a ride back home.”

David’s mouth pursed as if he wanted to disagree. “We should realistically assume we’re walking all the way home, Matthew. Anything else would be foolish.”

Matthew. His father rarely called him that unless Matthew plucked the strings of David’s patience. “You know what they say about making assumptions,” Matthew shot back. They hadn’t butted heads with pettiness since Matthew was younger and single, hot-headed with independence and ready to make a name for himself. He remembered this old song and dance, how David would meticulously plan a trip and Matthew would pick at it, pinpoint its flaws, just for the hell of it. He’d grown out of it, but it seemed the inclination simply needed a bad situation to rear its head up again.

“And it looks like we are both doing it.” David glared at Matthew.

Matthew glared back. “Walking all the way back to Galena would be a nightmare.”

“That’s what we said we were going to do!”

“I meant we would walk in that direction until we found help.” Matthew sighed. Now that the idea had turned into a very possible action, it seemed ridiculous, riddled with problems and faults. He wanted to take it all back, re-think through it, especially with David's health deteriorating. “There has to be a better way,” he muttered. “I could find a bike, attach one of those bike trailers to the back—”

“I hope you’re not implying that I would be riding in the trailer,” David said, his voice low.

“We