The Dark Days: End of the World - Episode 1 by Ginger Gelsheimer & Taylor Anderson

Author:Ginger Gelsheimer & Taylor Anderson [Gelsheimer, Ginger]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: GK Publishing
Published: 2014-06-21T18:00:00+00:00

Chapter 4

We scramble out the southwest side of the airport and head toward Pena Boulevard. The snow is coming down in blizzard force. Cars are lined up bumper to bumper trying to leave.

Once we make it about a football field away, we stop to catch our breath. Ben may be small, but he’s pretty fast on his feet. And Masaru, too. Even at fifty-something, he was high-tailing it out of there.

“Where’s Lena?” Ben asks. He had not seen what I saw.

I shake my head and can tell instantly how deeply saddened Masaru is. They must’ve been friends; after all they had stuck together at The Cantina when everyone else had abandoned the place. Too bad for Lena that she hadn’t gone with them.

“I think she died trying to help us,” I say, hoping I can make him feel the least bit better.

If she’d only known the traffic situation, she would’ve never stopped to find keys for a rental car. At least that’s what I thought she was trying to show me, before she was blown away.

Sirens blare from two airport security trucks driving west down the median. The cars are also bumper to bumper trying to get into the airport, which is ridiculous. Where do they think they’re going?

Many of the people from the line of cars have now stepped outside their vehicles—surprising, as cold as it is. Several of them stand on top of their hoods trying to get a better look. Better look at what? It’s all gone.

We each pull out a bottle of water. Ben takes small sips, while I guzzle half of mine.

“Better conserve, Claudia,” he says. I like that he’s always thinking, but I know there’s a Conoco down the road. I’ve lived here pretty much all of my life until I left for college. My parents happened to retire the same year and followed me. That’s how we all ended up down south.

With three times as many planes circling now, there’s no place to traverse that’s one hundred percent safe. It’s evident we’re all thinking the same thing by the way we’re surveying our surroundings.

“I think we should walk along the median,” Masaru recommends.

I have to agree with him. With all the bare acreage around us, hopefully the planes will aim there, instead of where the cars and people are when they land or run out of gas. There’s just so many of them though. One would think there are no other airports. Are there? We don’t know about California, maybe all these planes were headed there.

I throw my backpack over my shoulder and the three of us head west. The snow is already deep—maybe over a foot, so we step in the tracks of the security trucks.

I hate being cold! So do all these other people obviously because most of them have climbed back inside their cars.

My freezing fit is distracted by a woman on the eastbound side of Pena, who is screaming obscenities into her phone. The next thing I know, she has hurled it at me.

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