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Year One

Nora Roberts


  a couple of beers—for about the same.

  Hardly a wonder, if their experience in the tunnels had been even half as fricking harrowing as Fred described.

  And he believed every word. Why wouldn’t he when he’d been eavesdropping on chatter from freaked-out civilians and freaked-out military.

  Plus, he’d seen some serious shit going down on the monitor from hacking into street cams.

  Serious crazy-time shit.

  So, since he hadn’t heard anything to make him think the military—and they were pretty much running the show right now—had ID’d him or his location, he got some sleep himself.

  Seemed like the time to bank it.

  He’d given them all another day to chill, to pack up, and for him to keep his ear to the cyber air.

  But the time had come to say good-bye to his Batcave and some pretty awesome toys.

  Arlys came out of the bedroom dressed, her hair pulled back in a tail. She was really hot, Chuck thought, but she sort of felt like his sister at this point.

  He couldn’t even fantasize about banging her without feeling, well, the ick.

  “Fred’s nearly ready, too. I could help you with all this, Chuck.”

  “Rather not have anybody else messing with my stuff. Just about done anyhow. We’re all going to load it in our transpo. I’ve got to go get that. You guys could pack up some food, what’s left of the beer.”

  “We’ll take care of it.”

  “Great. I’ll go get our ride.”

  “Chuck, we don’t know how bad it is out there. I should go with you.”

  “Not to worry. I’ve got my way.” With a tap of his finger to his temple, he saluted. “Back in ten.”

  “At least take one of the guns.”

  “Nah.” He just winked and walked out.

  After pressing her fingers to her eyes, Arlys dropped her hands. He’d made it this far, she thought. She’d just have to hope he kept on making it.

  At least he stocked decent coffee, so she’d have one more hit before they left the odd and expansive basement. The safety of it. Safe, she thought, like a bomb shelter while the world blew itself to pieces outside the walls.

  “Want one?” she asked Fred when she came out, red hair fresh and bouncy, makeup perfect.

  “Chuck still has Cokes. Where is he?”

  “He went to get the car. We need to pack up some food.”

  “Okay.” Fred pulled out a box of Ring Dings.

  “I was thinking more of basics.”

  “What’s the point if you don’t eat the fun while you can?” She grabbed a Coke, swigging as she packed a box. “Is he taking all that?”

  “Appears to be.”

  “I hope he has a big car so we’re not all smooshed.”

  “I hope he has a car that can get us out of here.”

  “Don’t worry so much. We got here, right? We’ll get there, too.”

  “I’m feeling edgy, therefore bitchy.” Arlys grabbed some cans, wondered if anyone over the age of twelve actually ate alphabet soup besides Chuck—then reminded herself to be grateful for it.

  “You’re worried about Jim and everybody. I’m going to believe they got out, because we don’t know they didn’t. There’s still good in the world, Arlys. I can feel the good just like I can feel the bad.”

  Arlys set down the coffee, pushed over a pile of Hostess pies. “Apple or cherry?”

  “Why not both?” Fred opened her backpack, slid them in. “There’s room.”

  “You’re good for me, Fred.”

  In just under the allotted ten minutes, Chuck disengaged the locks, came in. “Let’s load ’em up and head ’em out.”

  Arlys pulled on her coat, a cap, hefted the food box. And when she walked out, stopped. Blinked.

  “Is that a…”

  “Humvee—not militarized,” Chuck added as he loaded a box of equipment. “I’m a hacker not a fighter. Cool, right? Like Arctic Circle cool.”

  “It’s awesome!” Fred stuffed in bags and backpacks as Chuck went back for more.

  “Who … who actually owns a Humvee?”

  “I do.” Chuck loaded more. “Always figured the world would screw itself, and why not have a monster ride to use to head for the hills? One more load.”

  Arlys went back, got the case of bottled water. Chuck grabbed the last load of equipment, took a sentimental look around.

  Then he shut the door, locked it, and turned his back on home.

  They weren’t smooshed—it was a monster ride—but the equipment and supplies took up a lot of space. Arlys nudged Fred into the front with Chuck, settled in the back, and as he rolled and rumbled away, took out the pad and pencil he’d dug up for her.

  She’d written out every detail she could remember from the last broadcast, from the trip through the tunnels. She’d written until her fingers numbed. Now she wrote about beginning this journey.

  Maybe no one would ever read it, ever hear it. Maybe no one would care, or be left to care. But she needed to make a record.

  “Going to head up Nine,” he told them, “and see if we can get on Eighty. It’s probably blocked, but this bitch has muscle. We may be able to clear the road.”

  Arlys pulled out the folder of maps she’d asked him to print off. “I worked out some alternates.”

  “Always prepared. Don’t worry, cupcake. We’re getting you to Ohio. That’s the deal.”

  They made it as far as Ridgefield before they hit a serious roadblock. An SUV with a dented rear fender was slowly backing away from a five-car pileup blocking the road.

  Arlys laid a hand on the gun under her coat.

  “They’re good. I can tell,” Fred said quickly. “They’re not bad.” Fred swiveled around. “They probably just want to get out like we do.”

  As she’d trusted Fred in the tunnel, Arlys trusted her now. She rolled down her window, put both hands out and up.

  “We’re trying to get through,” she called out. “We’re not looking for any trouble. I’m Arlys, and I’m with Fred and Chuck. Chuck thinks he can push the wreck out of the way.”

  “Can do,” he confirmed.

  For several seconds, the SUV didn’t move, then it began to back up again, veering to the side until the driver’s window faced Arlys and Fred.

  “We’re not looking for trouble, either. I can help move the wreck.”

  “I’ve got it.”

  “Chuck’s got it,” Arlys relayed. “If he can push them out of the way, you can follow us through.”

  A woman in the passenger seat leaned forward. “Arlys Reid?”

  “Yes.”

  She nodded to the driver, who let out a long breath. “Okay. We’ll wait here.”

  Chuck rolled his shoulders. “Watch me plow this road!”

  He took it slow. Arlys had worried he’d ram the mess of five cars like a horny buck, but he eased into it, kept it steady, worked the wheel.

  With the ringing squeal of metal, he pushed two cars back enough to angle and nudge one off to the shoulder.

  Fred applauded.

  “Video games,” he claimed, backing up to get an angle on another. “Plus, I ran a snowplow for one of my uncle’s businesses a few years.”

  He only had to push the other cars over a few feet.

  “We can get through, they can get through. We’re wider.” He drove past the wrecked cars, eased over, stopped.

  This time the SUV pulled up to Chuck’s side.

  “We appreciate it.”

  “No sweat, we both wanted through.”

  “Rachel,” she said. “Jonah, and Katie in the back. We have three infants with us.”

  “Babies!” Fred shoved open her door, leaped out.

  “Fred!”

  “I want to see the babies.” She waved a hand at Arlys, bounced over to peer in the back window. “Oh! They’re beautiful! Are they all yours? Oh, babies are so full of light. What are their names?”

  Slowly, Katie rolled down the window a few inches. “Dunca
n, Antonia, Hannah.”

  “You’re blessed. Chuck, they have three babies. They need help. We should help. We’re going to Ohio,” she continued, before anyone else could speak. “If you want, you can follow us until we’re not going the way you are. Chuck can maybe keep pushing things out of the way.”

  “Jonah?”

  Jonah glanced at Katie, then back at Rachel, then nodded. “We’d be grateful. We’re not heading anywhere in particular. We’ll follow you.”

  “How far you want to go before you break?” Chuck asked.

  “We’ve got almost a full tank. We just started in Hoboken.”

  “Hey!” Chuck poked a finger into his own chest. “I’m from Hoboken. We must’ve been right behind you. How about we try for the Pennsylvania border? You need to stop sooner, blink your lights, or when the sun’s up, honk.”

  “Safety in numbers,” Rachel added.

  “Yeah, can’t hurt.”

  As Chuck rolled forward, Arlys wrote down the names in her notepad.

  Not just safety in numbers, she thought. Strength in them.

  * * *

  With pileups and jams of abandoned cars beyond even the Humvee’s muscle to clear, the journey across New Jersey involved winding, back-tracking, detouring.

  When they finally crossed into Pennsylvania, Chuck pumped a fist in the air, let out a “Woot!”

  “Crossed ourselves another state line, ladies. I’m going to hunt up a pit stop. This big girl’s getting thirsty.”

  They turned onto what proved to be the main street of what Arlys thought of as a hamlet—too small to be a town. Quiet as a tomb now, one buried in snow. A Christmas card, she thought, a traditional ideal. Her vision of it only sharpened when she watched a small herd of deer wander by what was billed as Arnette’s Salon for Hair and Nails as if they roamed the forest.

  People had known their neighbors here, she thought. Had gossiped with them and about them. Surely Arnette had often patronized Billy’s Dine In or Out. Pie at the counter? she wondered. Surely there’d been a counter and a sassy waitress behind it pushing pie.

  Where was Arnette now? And Billy? That sassy waitress?

  They passed through, left it to the deer.

  A half mile out, Chuck turned into a gas station/convenience store.

  “Probably bathrooms inside.” He gave the windows, the glass doors a long look. “Looks intact—small population around here. It’s going to be locked up, but—”

  “We’ll get in.” Arlys pushed open her door, stepped out into pristine snow. She walked to the SUV; Fred dashed to it.

  “Can I take one? I mean hold one?”

  “She’s getting fussy.” Katie lifted a baby into Fred’s waiting arms. “I have to feed her.”

  “I don’t mind. Oh, she’s so sweet. What’s her name?”

  “She’s Hannah.”

  “Sweet Hannah. I’ll take her inside for you. Hannah’s hungry,” she crooned as the baby whimpered. “Maybe it’s not locked. It’s all right, Hannah,” she soothed as she walked. “Your mama’s going to feed you.”

  “It’s nice to meet you.” Arlys held out a hand to Rachel.

  “It’s really nice to meet somebody with a … Is that a Humvee?”

  “Chuck’s.”

  “It’s open!” Fred looked back with a sparkling smile.

  Faeries could get into locked places, Arlys remembered.

  As Rachel bent to take a baby from Katie, Jonah called out.

  “Don’t go in! Wait.” He jogged toward Fred. “Let me just check it out first.”

  “He’s right.” Arlys strode over to join them. “Wait, Fred. Just in case.”

  Jonah gave Arlys a long look when she took out the gun from under her coat. Then nodded. “I’ll take left, you take right.”

  They moved in, down thinly stocked shelves, by a counter with its open and empty cash register. By tacit agreement she pushed open the door of the women’s room, he the men’s.

  Once satisfied, Jonah shifted his gun to his left hand, held out his right. “Jonah.”

  She did the same. “Arlys. Okay, Fred!”

  “Chuck says the pumps are on.” Fred kissed the baby who now lay contentedly in her arms. “He’s gassing up the Humvee.”

  “I guess this is as good a place as any to get acquainted.” Jonah put his gun away as Rachel and Katie came in. “I’ll fill up our tank.”

  “We need a chair for Katie.” Fred beamed. “So she can sit and feed Hannah.”

  “There’s one in the back.” Arlys holstered her gun. “I’ll get it.”

  “I could hold—which one is that?”

  “This is Duncan.”

  “I can hold Duncan while you feed Hannah.” Fred managed the exchange smoothly, then covered Duncan’s face with little kisses.

  “You’re so good with them.”

  “I’m going to have half a dozen one day. Duncan’s wide awake. Hello, Duncan! He says he needs to be changed.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  “I can do it.”

  “That’d be great,” Rachel said before Katie could speak. She handed Fred a diaper bag. “All the basics are in there.”

  “There’s a changing table in the bathroom.” Arlys rolled out a desk chair. “I didn’t try the water, but if the pumps are running, there’s got to be power.”

  “I hope so because our new mother needs a hot meal. Don’t say you’re fine, Katie. You’ve got three mouths to feed, and have to stay healthy and strong. There’s probably a microwave in here.”

  Arlys pointed.

  “Great. Maybe you could heat something up for her? I want to check out the over-the-counter meds they might have left. I’m a doctor.”

  “Now I’m even happier to meet you. I saw a couple of cans of beef stew.”

  “Perfect. I’ll see about more baby supplies while I’m at it. Can’t go overboard there with three.”

  Arlys scavenged the shelves—no point depleting their own supplies. She heated stew, canned ravioli, a can of chicken noodle soup in doubled paper bowls in the microwave. As she worked, she saw the men get in the vehicles, pull away from the pumps.

  Getting them out of sight of the road, she thought.

  Just in case.

  She set the various choices on the checkout counter, took some stew to Katie.

  “Thanks. She’s slowing down, so nearly done.”

  “Fred?”

  “She took Antonia to change.” Eyes exhausted, Katie smiled. “She’s wonderful.”

  “You have no idea. I have to say you look amazing for a woman who had triplets no more than days ago.”

  Katie looked down at Hannah. “Twins. Hannah was orphaned. Her mother died giving birth. She was alone in the hospital because everyone was sick or dead. So we took her with us. She’s mine now.”

  Katie looked up, those exhausted eyes fierce. “Just as much mine.”

  “We’ll help you protect the babies.” Fred carried Antonia back. “All your babies.”

  “The babies and I wouldn’t be here without Jonah and Rachel. Part of me believed they were the last decent people left on Earth. I think we were meant to meet you. Everything so horrible, and yet we met you. We met people who’d protect babies and help strangers. We’ll help you.”

  “Yes, we will.” Rachel came back with a bulging bag. “Over-the-counter meds, basic vitamins, and first aid. Look through it, take whatever you need. Well, minus the baby-care items.”

  Pushing a hand through her curly mop of hair, Rachel glanced toward the counter. “That up for grabs?”

  “You bet.”

  “I’m starving.”

  “Arlys got cut on her arm.” Fred jiggled the baby. “Could you look at it?”

  Rachel smiled. “The doctor is in.”

  Arlys sat on a counter while Rachel cleaned and re-bandaged the cut.

  “This could have used a few stitches. You’re going to have a scar.”

  “Least of my worries.”

  “It’s
healing well.”

  “What kind of a doctor?”

  “Emergency Medicine.”

  “Handier and handier.” Testing her arm, Arlys looked over at Katie—nursing another baby and eating stew one-handed, while Fred sat on the floor snuggling the other babies.

  “Did you deliver the twins?”

  “No. Jonah did. He found Katie in labor, got her into the hospital. We were in crisis. The only OB left was trying to save Hannah and her mother, so Jonah delivered the twins. He’s a paramedic.”

  “This is our lucky day.”

  “Ours, too.” Rachel picked up a bowl of soup—the men had returned and grabbed up the raviolis. “We wouldn’t have gotten this far today if you hadn’t cleared the way. We need to stick together.”

  “Couldn’t agree more. We’re going to need to find real shelter tonight.” Like Rachel, she again glanced toward Katie and the baby in her arms. “Somewhere warm.”

  “The town we just went through looked promising, but you want to push on. Why Ohio?”

  “My parents, my brother. I’m hoping.”

  Nodding, Rachel ate more soup. “We push on.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Lana woke shuddering, on the edge of a scream. She clutched a fist to her chest, to the heart that felt it would leap out of her, leave her hollow.