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)
A fat raindrop smacks the side of my nose, cold and stinging. Another one pelts me in the back of the head. Then I feel the prickling sensation as a barrage of drops assault me. Aaron snatches up the map and hops up front, Dan on his heels. The rest of us climb into our usual spots in the bed of the truck, making room for Hailey this time, who sits between Tyler and Jesse. Aaron peels out without warning and then we’re off on the next leg of our journey.
The rain teases us for about five minutes and then the heavens open up, drenching us in a heavy downpour. Despite the warmer temperature, the cold rainwater soaks us all to the bone and I worry how long we’ll be able to endure this. Everyone huddles against one another, using their jackets and backpacks to provide some semblance of shelter.
“We’re going through Elizabeth, Colorado, first,” Tyler tells me through chattering teeth. “Once we’re on the main stretch of highway 70, we’re hoping it’ll be smooth sailing all the way into Kansas.”
So far, there’s been nothing smooth about any of this.
Of course I don’t bring him down too with my sour mood.
“Hey,” he says in a low voice barely heard over the rumble of the engine and torrential rain. “Everything okay?”
“Just tired of this shit.” It’s a vague non-answer, but it’s all I’ve got.
His hand finds mine and he squeezes. “I know. It’s almost over. Another five or six hours and we’ll be there. Everything’s going to be all right, Kell.”
In a perfect world, a drive to Ransom from our current location would indeed only take a few hours. Our world is no longer the perfect one I took for granted. It’s finally deteriorating beyond repair. There will never again be easy or boring days.
Aaron slows as he drives through standing water in the road. It’s only a few inches deep, but he drives with caution. With the rate the rain is coming down, we’re definitely going to need to be on the lookout for flash flooding. Just another day in this new fucked-up world.
We make it to Elizabeth and it’s a ghost town. Storefronts have been boarded up, much like the towns we passed through from San Francisco to Vegas. I’m sure we could break into one of the buildings to look for supplies, but from the looks of it, the people from this town already took anything of value. Soon, we’re on the other side, continuing our drive, this time toward Limon.
Another hour ticks by and we’re at the next decently sized town, Limon. Like Elizabeth, though, it’s been boarded up. Aaron drives up close to the boarded-up service station to read a sign.
Head West to Denver for closest FEMA camp.
So much for that.
The rain continues to beat down on us and we travel through more flooded areas. Thus far, we haven’t had to backtrack or go around any flooding on the road, but I’m not sure if our luck will hold out. Our track record says we’re due to run into some trouble soon. I’m not being a pessimist. I’m being a realist.
Aaron makes another stop in Flagler to fill up with the last of our gas cans, but like the other towns we’ve passed through, this too is boarded up with instructions to head for Denver.
We’ve barely been on the road no more than ten minutes or so when Aaron slows to a stop. A quick glance through the windows shows more water on the road. Slowly, he begins inching his way across the flooded roadway as rain keeps dousing every single thing in our path.
Rumbling starts to shake the truck and the water around us begins sloshing. An earthquake in the middle of a flood. Fantastic. I’m about to state as much when I hear a roaring sound. It’s so reminiscent of the tsunami sound back in San Francisco that I freeze with sudden panic. Tyler’s eyes meet mine and we barely register what’s happening until something crashes into the side of the truck.
A wave of water swells over the side of the truck and fills the bed. Our entire group is in such shock that all we can do is emit startled cries as we attempt to figure out what’s happening.
The truck turns sharply to the right. I quickly realize it’s not turning, but the water is sweeping it away. Clutching onto the side of the truck bed, I try to make sense of our surroundings as we spin uncontrollably. We’re rushing with the flow of the water off the highway and down the embankment, heading to who the hell knows where.
Bam!
I’m jerked hard when the truck T-bones a thick tree. Crunching metal and the groan of protesting wood can be heard above the rushing water. Then, to my horror, instead of the truck going around the tree, it topples over it, which then flips us as well.