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

“Oh,” Tommy said, crestfallen, and then eyed Matthew and David. “I’m hungry.”

Shane laughed like a long-suffering parent. “I know, bud. We’ll try and stop somewhere along the way.”

Matthew slipped his pack off and rummaged inside, pulling out a couple of power bars. He presented them to Shane. “You might want to just head home. The rest of Madison is a mess. These should tide you over.”

Shane stared at the offering with awe. Gently, he took the power bars from Matthew. “Thank you,” he said. “Really. You have no idea.”

“Good luck,” Matthew said, suddenly feeling bashful and not knowing what else to say. “Be good for your dad, Tommy.”

Tommy nodded in agreement. Shane handed him a power bar, and Tommy tore the packaging open with gusto. David waved goodbye, and together they turned around, heading back in the direction of Galena.

“I can’t believe you gave away some of our provisions.” David shook his head and glanced behind him to see how far away they were from Shane and Tommy.

Matthew sighed. He knew this was coming. “I couldn’t let a kid go hungry, Dad.”

“You have a heart of gold, and there are enough people out there that would melt it down and sell it at a pawn shop.”

“We helped reunite a father with his son,” Matthew pointed out. “What if we didn’t help them? He’d be frantic. His son would’ve woken thinking his father abandoned him. We did the right thing.”

“Black and white,” David pointed out.

“When it comes to a situation like that? Yeah, it is black and white. They would’ve helped us if they could’ve. Shane is a good man.”

David shook his head again. “That was an anomaly. We should’ve saved our food. We’ll need it, especially since it appears like we’ll be walking all the way to Galena. This trip isn’t just a stroll in the park—we’re actually hiking home.”

“I won’t let fear rule my life,” Matthew said, finally saying what lay in his heart.

“You shouldn’t barge into people’s problems,” David said sharply, before saying in a softer tone, “If you help every person, dog, or cat that cries out in need, we’ll never get home. I don’t want to see those people crush you, Matt.”

Matthew shook his head, knowing the discussion was hopeless. This would always be a point of contention, and he saw no point in trying to make David see a different side of the story. He kept his mouth shut and hefted his pack over his shoulder, ready for more miles of uncomfortable silence.

13

As his father’s silent treatment continued for the next few miles, Matthew sighed, already bored of the landscape, and wished for the umptieth time he had his favorite oldies tunes blasting through a car's speakers to make the time go by quicker. He took another sparse gulp of water, swished it around in his desert-dry mouth, and handed the bottle to David. David took the offering without a word and finished the last dregs. Already they were running low, even though they’d rationed well. They needed to restock and most likely take another break to relieve themselves. Matthew had kept his eye out for a rest stop for the last hour, searching for a good place to veer off course in search of a department store or even a gas station to replenish their stores.

The tension between him and David had wavered and lessened with time. Matthew took a breath of relief. Despite their differences he had a good relationship with his father, but sometimes both of them were like stone walls: immovable.

“Dad,” Matthew said, grateful to see the loom of a gas station sign up ahead, “we’re low on water and I need to take a break. How’s that gas station sound to you?” He pointed toward it.

David squinted, his face pinched in thought. “You think it’s safe to leave the road?”

Matthew wanted to shake his father, tell him everything in life didn’t have to be looked at with suspicion, but he held his tongue. There was no point in bringing up that sensitive subject again. “I don’t think we have a choice. We need water and more food for the journey. Might as well stop at someplace familiar instead of waiting until the city falls completely away, don’t you think? We won’t go far off the interstate. In and out.”

David bit his lip but nodded in agreement. They angled toward the exit. Relief filled Matthew when he saw fast food restaurants sidled up next to the gas stations, but on closer inspection, many of the restaurants sported CLOSED signs taped to the door. The first gas station they passed had a similar indicator. Dark interior. Locked doors. David glanced at Matthew in alarm.

“I know,” Matthew said to David’s silent worry. “You’d think these places would stay open, especially now.”

“They don’t have anything to gain,” David said. “No power, no money. Can’t make a profit on kindness.”

Matthew ignored him as they passed a second closed gas station. Wrappers and soda fountain drinks littered the side of the road, rustling in the light breeze. The smell of old hamburgers paired with the fresh prairie grass filled Matthew’s nose. As they approached the third gas station, which was in a similar state to the others, Matthew held his breath. He didn’t see a sign, despite the near abandoned ambiance of the shop, and he pushed gently on the door. It swung open with a ding from the bell above the door.

Matthew eased in slowly, anticipation building in his stomach. He didn’t know what to expect. At this point, he could get a smiling couple happy to give him help or an employee leveling a shotgun at his face. Both sounded plausible.

A young man, somewhat older than Allison, peeked out from behind the cash register. A blue vest covered his striped tee-shirt, and his black curly hair stuck up at all angles as if he’d been running his hands through it in anxiety. The young man held his hands up, as though