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

“Sure, okay. But, Dad, she’s not going crazy. Uncle Peter seems to think this is the start of something bigger. Don’t you agree?”

“Your uncle Peter knows a lot more than I do about these things, but I try to apply common sense. The last thing our country needs is a nuclear war. I can’t imagine any president getting us involved in one.”

“Did anyone imagine they’d drop those bombs on Japan during World War Two?” asked Tucker.

Owen grimaced. His son had made a good point. “No, but times are different. We know the devastating effects of these things. Listen, I’m not saying your mom is overreacting. Just, you know, text me if you feel she needs my support. Okay?”

Tucker smiled. “Sure, Dad.”

“What does she have planned for the day?” asked Owen.

Tucker responded with a question of his own. He wondered if the family’s plans had changed in light of what was going on. “We’re still going to Tahoe Thursday, right?”

“You betcha,” said Owen, reaching up to scruff the long, sandy blond locks of his son. He styled it like a surf bum who’d just rolled out of a hammock for the day. “We’ll get loaded up tomorrow afternoon. I’m gonna bug out of the office as early as I can.”

“That’s lit, Dad. Mom has us running errands all day. She has to stop by the store, and then we’re going to Costco.”

“More stocking up?” asked Owen.

“I guess so. Hey, I’m along for the ride. We’re gonna have In-N-Out burgers for lunch. Works for me, you know?”

Owen rubbed his son’s hair again and then made his way into the family room. “Hey, babe. I gotta roll. You guys have fun today.”

Lacey had switched stations to the Weather Channel. They were discussing past record-breaking winters in the Sierra Nevada Mountains and how this early-October snowfall had followed a similar timeline as the others.

“Are we still good to go?” asked Owen, startling Lacey, who was deep in thought. She flinched, and he immediately felt bad. “Honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

Lacey turned around and spontaneously kissed her husband. It was a meaningful kiss. The kind longtime married couples share less and less often over the years.

“I love you, Owen,” she said in a serious tone.

He hugged her. He tried to use humor to break her out of her melancholy mood. “What’s not to love? Smart. Handsome. I still have all my hair and teeth. See?” He provided her a Cheshire cat grin.

“Now I hate you,” she said with a laugh. She playfully slugged him on the chest.

He laughed with her. “Good, that’s better. Now, is makeup sex an option?”

She pounded him in earnest this time. “Get out of my house!”

They embraced again, and she sighed. After a moment, she pulled away and wiped a solitary tear that escaped her eye.

“Part of me is upset about Peter’s call. Then the other side, the wife and mother side, wants to do everything I can to prepare for my family. I don’t know if any of this crap is gonna come our way, but I feel the need to do something.”

She pointed over her shoulder toward the television, which was still showing scenes of snow in Nevada. Owen knew she was referring to the nuclear devastation that had occurred between the two warring nations.

“Listen, I admire you for taking care of us. I know you’re not gonna go shopping for Humvees and shipping containers to bury in the ground like those people in Idaho.”

“Too much rock.”

“Rock?” asked a confused Owen.

“Because we sit up on this ridge, our backyard has too much rock for a shipping container.”

Owen furrowed his brow as he studied her face. “Seriously? You’ve thought about this.”

“Yes. After you fell asleep watching the news, I did a bunch of research. The shipping container won’t work for us, so we need to find out where the nuclear fallout shelters are.”

Owen glanced past Lacey and saw that she had her iPad sitting on the table next to several stacks of paper. Each one had a yellow Post-it note stuck on the front, identifying the purpose of the stack.

“Is this part of your research?” he asked, pointing at the table.

“Yes.”

“Geez, Lacey. Did you sleep at all?”

“A couple of hours,” she replied. “Here’s the thing, Owen. There is no man-made scenario worse than a nuclear war. Sure, large asteroid strikes and supervolcanos are extinction-level events, but man doesn’t control those things. Nuclear weapons can kill a lot of people all at once. Exhibit A …” Her voice trailed off as she grabbed the remote and switched back to the cable news network. The video footage was beginning to emerge out of the war-torn region in South Asia. It was Tehran all over again, times fifty.

Owen tried to tamp down her concerns. “I really don’t think that’ll happen here, but if you wanna do some things, I’m all for it.”

“I’m not going crazy, Owen. Nor will I empty the bank accounts on this stuff. I’d just feel better knowing we had some semblance of a plan. You know?”

He embraced his wife. “Now it’s my turn. I love you, Lacey McDowell.” Then he gave her a meaningful kiss.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Tuesday, October 22

Driftwood Key

Hank had spent the day with Sonny, walking every square foot of Driftwood Key’s twenty-eight acres. His mind was too cluttered to work from memory as to what aspects of the resort’s operations needed to be analyzed for backup mechanical parts or maintenance supplies. They had an extensive produce-growing operation on the key, which included greenhouses and hydroponics. Sonny was, in addition to virtually everything else, the man with the green thumb. Hank prided himself on his fishing skills, and Sonny carried the burden of growing fruits and vegetables. The division of responsibilities had served them well over the years.

With a new list in hand and half a dozen stops, Sonny set out for the day to purchase backup supplies and fertilizers for the gardening aspect of Driftwood Key. He also