Desolation (Book 1): Desolation by Lucin David

Author:Lucin, David [Lucin, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Post-Apocalyptic | Post-Nuclear Survival
Publisher: Highway 3 Publishing
Published: 2019-03-05T05:00:00+00:00

14

The following morning, Jenn, still groggy from sleep, pulled on her ash-colored jeans, then her black Arizona Diamondbacks T-shirt. Next, she tossed Gary’s flashlight into her backpack. From her dresser, she took out a clean tank top, a pair of underwear, and two pairs of socks.

“We’re only going to be gone for the day,” Sam said. “That’s it.”

“I want to be prepared, just in case.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist. She smelled the sweet spice of his deodorant, and it reminded her that she hadn’t showered in three days.

“Thanks for coming with me,” he said. “You really didn’t have to.”

“Yes I did.”

An eyebrow raised, he looked down at her.

“That’s not what I meant,” Jenn clarified. “We’re a team.”

Sam touched a finger to his chin. “A team,” he said, chewing on the word. “I like that.” He let go of her waist and patted her butt. “I’ll pack the car. Meet you outside in ten?”

“Sure.” Jenn zipped up her bag and ran her tongue along the fuzz on her teeth. “I just need to get my toothbrush.”

Before she could leave, the door squeaked open, and Gary poked his head inside. “Sorry to interrupt, but can I talk to you for a minute, Jenn? In the office.”

She gnawed her bottom lip. Had Gary ever asked her to speak in private before? Maybe he’d decided to convince her to call off the plan. Or maybe he’d decided to come with them. Either way, Jenn would push back. “Sure. Be right there.”

She sat in Gary’s swivel chair. On the desk stood stacks of books from his shelf. Jenn ran her fingers along the spines of a few: mostly World War Two, but also a history of the Cold War between the old Soviet Union and the United States. One, a musty hardcover, lay open. Several passages were underlined or highlighted in yellow. Gary had scrawled some notes in the margins. Beside the book was a piece of paper with his handwriting. Something about Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

Gary closed the door behind him, then made for the desk and opened the top drawer. His Glock lay inside. “I want you to take this,” he said and handed it to Jenn.

She eyed it closely. A few months after she first moved to Flagstaff two Septembers ago, there was a home invasion in town. It turned out to be little more than a nonviolent domestic incident—a man breaking into his ex-wife’s apartment to see his young daughter—but it triggered Gary’s fatherly instincts. He insisted that Jenn learn how to shoot in case something like that break-in happened at the Ruiz house. Before then, Jenn had never touched a gun, let alone fired one, but Gary was persistent and refused to take no for an answer.

So Jenn found herself outside of town at a makeshift range, Flagstaff’s crisp winter air biting the exposed skin on her hands and face. Gary showed her the basics first: how to clear the chamber, how to load the magazine, and how to hold her finger away from the trigger.

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