Nuclear Winter First Strike by Bobby Akart (best fiction books of all time .txt) 📗

a plan. Same is true with what we’re doing right now. We are ensuring our ability to deal with the worst-case scenario.”

Phoebe glanced at her watch. “All right, Mr. Hank. I’d better get started so I can place the orders before I prepare dinner for our new arrivals. Will you be joining them tonight?”

Hank grimaced. He was far too preoccupied to socialize; plus he wanted to corner Erin when she returned from Key West.

“Will you pass along my apologies and tell them I’ll make it up to them this week?”

Phoebe nodded, and then a scowl came over her face. “Mr. Hank, our families have been through a lot. I don’t doubt the Albrights and Frees could face any challenge. But we’ve got eighteen bungalows filled with strangers from all over. What about them?”

Hank’s face turned ashen. He hadn’t thought about all the people on Driftwood Key that he bore responsibility for. Not to mention those who might be en route to fill their places on checkout. He grimaced as he realized he’d have to get rid of them and cancel incoming reservations. But when? And what if he was wrong?

“I don’t know. Let me think on it. Now, I’ve got to go to the bank and make a couple of other stops.”

Phoebe waved her hand and left his office. Hank gathered his wallet, car keys and a notepad. He made his way into the master bedroom suite that had been occupied by his parents and their parents before them. He walked to a solid wood door, the only one that wasn’t louvered in the main house. The key to the lock was kept in his bottom dresser drawer. Hank bent over to retrieve it and then tentatively unlocked it.

As the door swung open, he muttered, “I never thought I’d need to get in here.”

Inside the walk-in closet stood a gray Liberty gun safe with Lady Liberty emblazoned across the front. The safe had been there for many years, still requiring the user to turn a numbered dial to get inside. In the closet, on both sides of the safe, were shelves of ammunition stacked neatly by brand and caliber.

Most of the ammunition was seven years old. Mike, who was an expert marksman and personally managed the Albrights’ cache of weapons, made sure the oldest ammunition was used first when he and Jessica went to the range. Hank had never taken an interest in guns, and other than training with Mike years ago, he never practiced. He didn’t think it would be necessary. He was wrong.

He started making notes. Tonight, he would consult with Mike, who was really wrapped up in his murder investigation, especially since they’d discovered the third body. Hank would have to make multiple trips to Bass Pro Shops as well as local bait and tackle shops to stock up.

He began his list until he noticed the time. It was 4:30. He needed to get to the bank before it closed. He planned on making a cash withdrawal that would probably make the local branch manager wonder if he was making a drug deal.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Monday, October 21

McDowell Residence

Hayward, California

Lacey had been at her store, Jefferson Outfitters, working with one of her best customers when Peter called. She didn’t see the text message until after lunch, when she frantically began calling him to see what was wrong. After they had a conversation along the same lines as he’d had earlier with their father, Lacey told her employees to close up for her. She decided to pick Tucker up from school so he’d be with her. Just in case.

Her son was very level-headed and mature for his age. Fortunately, his interests were similar to his parents’. Enjoying the outdoors. He wasn’t into music or the party scene teenagers found themselves exposed to in the Bay Area. Tucker would rather go hiking, camping or snowboarding than attend a concert or hang out with other kids his age.

“Mom, you know Uncle Peter and I are tight. He never goes highkey, you know what I mean?”

No, not really, but she caught his drift. Lacey’s thought caused her to smile. Highkey was Tucker’s era. Catching his drift was hers.

“Dramatic?” she asked.

“Yeah. I mean, he’s a reporter, and I know it’s his job to hype things up. He’s never done that with us.”

Lacey nodded. Her younger brother wouldn’t ring these alarm bells with their family if he wasn’t genuinely concerned, and certain, that something was coming that could possibly affect them.

“The question is, what do we do about it?” she asked.

“Have you called Dad?”

“I spoke to him briefly. He said he wanted to look into something, you know, on a hunch.”

Tucker laughed. “Dad’s big on his hunches.”

The phone rang. It was Owen. “His ears must’ve been burning.” Lacey connected the call through the SUV’s sound system. “Hey, honey.”

“Hi, Dad.”

“Tucker? Aren’t you supposed—?”

Lacey cut him off to explain. “I decided to pick him up. I thought it would be a good idea for us to sort this out together.”

“Well, I’m glad you did,” said Owen. “Listen to this. I reached out to our department that analyzes internet searches around the world. A lot of people don’t realize this, but search engines like Yahoo! have a literal pulse on the mindset of a country or locale based upon their trending searches. It’s mind-boggling what information we have access to that can be cross-referenced through search activity.

“Anyway, when you relayed Peter’s concerns, I thought I’d check with our people and have them look into Yahoo metrics for Pakistan and India. While they did, I called my buddy at Google. Face it. Google dominates outside the U.S., with like ninety-eight percent of the market share.

“Well, anyway, I heard back from both resources just now. Search terms related to the term nuclear are off the charts in both countries. And get this, on Google, one of the top five trending searches today is nuclear fallout shelter near me.”

“Wow!” said Tucker excitedly. “Uncle Peter’s right. We need to get