Internet Kill Switch by Ward Keith

Author:Ward, Keith [Ward, Keith]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2014-01-12T08:00:00+00:00

41

“OK, we need to go north for a few miles, then take 240 East, which takes us to 40 East, then through Nashville, then 81 north up to Maryland, it looks like,” said Scarlett, studying the map. “Assuming I’m doing this right. I’ve never really had to read maps before.”

Out of sheer habit, Scarlett took out her iPhone to check Facebook. She’d been doing it since the Internet went down.

“Why do I keep doing this?” she said, mostly to herself. “No one’s there. I hate not knowing who’s doing what!”

“So, which way do I go out of the parking lot?” Rick asked. “‘North’ doesn’t help me much.”

“Sorry. Go right,” Scarlett said, looking at the map again. “I think...”

Rick pulled into the road. “We’re going to need gas for this trip,” he said. “I’m stopping at the next station we pass.”

The next gas station on their side of the road turned out to be roughly a mile away: an Exxon station at the corner of Presley and Winchester Road. As they drove north through the city, Tony noticed something unusual.

“What’s with all the abandoned cars?” he said. Suddenly Rick and Scarlett realized it, too: empty cars were scattered throughout. Some were right in the middle of the road, but most were pulled off to the side, or in parking lots. Many of the ones in lots weren’t parked side-by-side, as normal; instead they sat at angles, as if they’d simply stopped there.

“Well, this isn’t the greatest part of town, from the looks of things.” Rick said.

“No, Tony’s right,” Scarlett said. “Even for a bad area, this is too many cars to just be left sitting around. Was there some kind of evacuation?”

Their apprehension grew as they approached the Exxon. Rick pulled into the station and up to a pump, then got out. There were a few cars in the parking lot, but they too were left at weird angles. Rick looked inside the store; he didn’t see anyone.

He opened the Hummer’s gas cap and took the pump off the hook.

Then he noticed the pump was dark: no digital readout of the price per gallon, no advertising message urging him to get a car wash. The pump, as far as he could tell, was dead. He looked at the other pumps. All dead.

A scruffy man, about 60, came out of the store. He looked homeless, with filthy clothes, a scraggly beard and hands that constantly clenched and unclenched. He ambled over and looked in the passenger side of the Hummer, eyeing Scarlett and Tony. He smiled creepily at Scarlett, showing off his half-dozen teeth. Then he shuffled around the other side to Rick.

“Got gas?” he said in a rough voice.

“What?” Rick said, caught off guard by the question. “No, I mean, we need gas, that’s why we’re here. Do I pay you?”

“How much?” the old man asked, eyeing the Hummer again.

Rick still didn’t get it. “How much what? Oh, how much do I need? Probably $60 worth or so. I’ve got about a half-tank, but I’m going on a long trip.

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