Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Nothing on this stretch of interstate.
Desolate land. Abandoned vehicles. Random debris.
I need to find a place to rest. The wind has really picked up, which is worrying. Plus, dark storm clouds have rolled in with the vicious wind. Up ahead, I see a small bridge situated over the interstate. Not the best shelter, but it’ll do.
Rain begins to pelt me, so I run full speed ahead. My stomach grumbles angrily, ready to eat, but I ignore it in my efforts.
Under the bridge, I hit the jackpot. Someone abandoned a minivan underneath and it seems like a good spot as any to spend the night. I dig through my bag to retrieve my flashlight and carefully check in the windows to make sure I won’t have any surprises.
Aside from a few stale French fries smashed into the carpet near the car seat that’s strapped in and fast-food trash littering the van, it’s safe. Locked but safe. I locate a rock and bust out the front side window so I can unlock the vehicle.
Once I get it unlocked, I open the back hatch. Wind whips through the vehicle, stealing trash from inside the van and taking it on a journey down the interstate. It takes a minute of fumbling with the seat latches until I figure out how to push the back ones forward, giving me a decent-sized area in the back to lie down on. I crawl into the van and pull the hatch shut.
The whining wind is the only sound.
It gets old quickly.
At least when I was walking, I had the soothing sounds of my shoes hitting the pavement. Right now I feel as though I’ve sealed myself into a silent tomb that’s seconds away from being buried in a sandstorm.
No sand comes.
The rain, though, decides to come down in buckets. I’m thankful, again, that I went with my gut and found this place. Had I tried to continue on and gotten drenched in the process, I’d have been pissed at myself.
I dig around in the backpack until I find dinner. Beef jerky sticks and Skittles. Grunting with displeasure, I quickly down the food and then search for my sweatshirt. I fold it into a neat square to use for a pillow. Once my head is resting on it and I’m stretched out as much as one can be inside the back of a minivan, I try to shut off my mind so I can sleep.
Thoughts of Tyler creep back in against my will.
“Stop it,” I chide myself. “Stop thinking about him.”
The part of me I’m apparently talking to doesn’t answer. Thank God for small miracles. I’ve barely been on my own a day and I’m already losing it.
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to focus on Uncle Mason and Aunt Beth’s farm. It was always such a bright place in my memories.
My aunt made the best lemonade. I once asked her what her secret was and she laughed, saying, “Crystal Lite.” As a kid, I thought it was a woman—a magical one at that. I never put two and two together until I went grocery shopping on my own for the first time when I’d moved out. There, among the energy drinks and Gatorade and Kool-Aid was Crystal Lite. I’d laughed out loud, much to the annoyance of a woman shopping nearby.
Hopefully, my aunt and uncle are okay. They, like my immediate family, were always preparing for the worst. I know if I can just get to them—and to see Knox—everything will be fine. We’ll survive until Gerty the asteroid’s lifetime of wrath finally takes out our planet once and for all.
Again, my mind goes back to Tyler. An ache forms in my chest and no matter how hard I rub at the place over my heart, it doesn’t go away. Writing that letter to him was beyond difficult. Saying goodbye felt so…wrong.
I swipe at a stupid tear that leaks out of my eye as I stare up at the dark ceiling in the van. The faint odor of greasy fast food makes my stomach turn.
I miss him.
God, how I miss him.
Was he devastated reading the letter?
Of course he was. I was gutted writing it. I can almost see the pained look on his face as he read my words.
I told him I loved him.
Past tense.
It was a lie because I love him.
Present tense.
I’ll always love him. He woke up parts of me I didn’t know existed. Somehow, the mouthy food deliveryman worked his way inside my heart and set up camp.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and then wince in pain, remembering the whack to the face I took earlier. More tears leak out and I blame the stupid sign for hurting me.
It was you who hurt you, stupid.
Go back!
I sit up and contemplate doing just that. Maybe it’s not too late. Maybe I can find Tyler, grab him in my arms, and beg him to take me back. This whole journey is stupid. Yes, I want to see my brother, but most likely I’ll show up to a destroyed farm devoid of people. One heartache after another. It’ll all be for nothing.