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)
“Pack everything up and get ready to go,” Dan rasps out. “Once it’s done, none of us are going to want to stick around.”
Everyone takes their turns at the bathroom while we pack up our supplies and tents. It’s decided that we’ll leave the tent Elise is in and take the one Kyle abandoned in his haste to escape. Finally, as the gray dawn dimly illuminates the skies above us, it’s time for Dan to do the job he volunteered for.
“Take my family and go,” he chokes out to Jesse. “I’ll catch up to you all.”
The group hesitantly begins walking away. When it’s only me, Kellen, and Dan left, I nod at Dan, who disappears inside the tent. I can hear him whispering an apology. Then a sudden bang pierces the air, making me and Kellen both jolt.
She’s dead.
Elise, who hours ago was vibrant, alive, and healthy, is now gone.
Seconds later, Dan staggers out of the tent and barely makes it out before he’s puking all over his boots. Kellen approaches him, hands him a bottle of water, and then gives him a firm clutch of his shoulder—a silent offer of support.
No more words are needed.
Today really fucking sucks and it’s barely just begun.
Kellen
We’ve been walking for five hours straight with few breaks and we’re only halfway to Lee Vining. From there, if we don’t secure a vehicle, we’re looking at another seventy-two hours of walking to Stovepipe Wells.
This is insanity.
I’m still having trouble coming to terms with the fact that society has already collapsed so much that we can’t find good people or humanitarian aid. It doesn’t help that we’re trapped in bum-fuck nowhere. There aren’t any gas stations or homes in sight. Just us, the road, and the increasingly falling temperatures. The one thing I’m grateful for since we set off on our walk through the mountains is we haven’t encountered any earthquakes.
It’s amazing the things you learn about people when you’re forced to be around them and in a dire, high-stakes situation.
Wayne snores loud enough to make a person want to duct-tape his mouth shut. Gerry has to take shit breaks. A lot. He says walking makes him regular. Jesse always has some smart-ass remark that makes Hailey giggle and the rest of us roll our eyes. Silas knows a lot about dinosaurs. Judy is a great singer and will belt out some songs to distract us for a bit. Aaron likes Hope, but she’s too angry at the world to notice. Dan knows a lot about worldly events and is a history buff, which is also quite entertaining.
And Tyler?
Tyler is magnetic.
Everything he says or does draws my attention to him. He easily makes me forget we’re surviving the end of the world. I feel twenty years old again, eager for romance and the affection of another.
This isn’t me.
And I’m not even mad about it.
Maybe I needed a hard break from my life. Obviously, I would never have chosen to go this route, but it’s the hand I’ve been dealt. Aside from all the heartache of continuously losing people and worrying about my brother, the moments with Tyler have been pretty spectacular.
Like last night…
I’m ditching these boxers the second I can because no one wants to walk ten hours in jizz-crusted underwear. But dealing with this inconvenience is totally worth it. Last night he dry fucked me until we both came and it was everything I could have ever imagined.
I’m desperate for more of him.
I want to crawl into our tent, freshly showered if I’m fantasizing here, and strip him bare. I want the time to admire his body and worship it properly. I want his hands and tongue all over me. I want to be deep inside him, kissing him roughly as I give us what we both need.
“Who needs a bathroom break?” Gerry asks because of course he has to shit.
“I do,” Judy and Hope both say at once.
We all come to a halt while Judy, Hope, and Gerry head for the trees for privacy. I drop onto my ass on the asphalt, watching Tyler as he cuts up with his little brother while Aaron watches them with fatherly pride in his eyes.
“Ahh!” one of the women in the trees cries out.
Dan darts over to them, which means it was Judy. Seconds later, she limps as her husband holds her upright.
“What happened?” I call out.
“Rolled my ankle,” Judy grumbles. “I’m so stupid.”
“Mom!” Hailey hisses. “You’re not stupid.”
Judy shoots me a peeved look. I understand her frustration. In our reality, where walking for ten-hours days is the norm, an injury like this is quite a liability.
Tyler strides over to her and makes her sit down on the road so he can assess her ankle. For someone with no medical training whatsoever, Tyler does his best. He would have made one helluva EMT.