Grit: Nowhere to Turn Book 6: (A Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Series) by Stacey Upton & Mike Kraus

Author:Stacey Upton & Mike Kraus [Upton, Stacey & Kraus, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Muonic Press Inc
Published: 2024-05-10T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

Day Forty-eight and Forty-nine

The New Madrid and Eastern Tennessee Fault Zones

Logan stood upright on the ATV and slowed as yet another black zigzag on the horizon signaled a large crack was going to impede his progress from Nashville to Roanoke. He eased the throttle as they rumbled closer to the jagged break in the earth. It broke the I-40 into two distinct sections, each twenty feet apart from the other. He sighed as it came more fully into view. While it was by no means as large as others he and Braden had encountered on their journey, it still meant a long detour, as the width of it didn’t diminish either way he looked. He brought the engine to an idle and flipped the visor up on his helmet as he turned to Braden.

“Right or left, buddy?”

The boy was secured in the seat behind him alongside a harnessed Whuff, who’d proved to be the sort of dog who loved riding and often stuck his doggy nose on Logan’s shoulder as they traveled, panting with his tongue lolling out and eyes squinted at the horizon. Both wore the flying earmuffs the army had provided for their initial helicopter ride. Braden had on a puffy jacket, scarf, gloves, and a child’s helmet while Whuff sported a dog parka against the cold winds generated by the ATV as it moved through the barren landscape.

Braden made a show of deciding. “Go right!”

They’d made a game of it, with Braden getting to pick the direction they drove to find a crossing point. It was the fifth time over the course of their travel along the I-40 they’d had to deviate in just the first four hours of travel.

“Right it is.” Logan turned the 2-up ATV to the right and motored along the crack slowly, stopping when necessary to cut fence lines before they moved on. Sometimes there were tire and hoof tracks in the dirt where others had made the same detour, but in a nearly full day of travel across middle Tennessee, they hadn’t seen or heard other vehicles actively moving on the road, although there had been plenty of overturned and abandoned cars to weave through.

When Logan had estimated how long it would take them to get home, he’d figured the four hundred and thirty-mile distance would take him about two eight-hour days if he averaged thirty miles an hour on the ATV as a best case scenario.

“If we ever hit a clear patch, I might still make that,” Logan told himself as they rolled along next to the crack. It finally petered out after twenty minutes, and he bumped over the foot-wide section of it before he headed left to pick the road back up again. “I bet I can get past Knoxville, at least.”

The interstate had appeared to be his best bet when he’d studied the maps Ripley Baxter had handed to him as she and her men got him resupplied from the Nashville cache. Ripley had approached him as

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