Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
The sunset blazed, casting the sky in striations of red and orange. We walked through several quiet neighborhoods that felt mostly abandoned, and then a looted business district.
“There it is,” Leon said, pointing at the hill that rose up in front of us, shimmering solar lights leading from the base to the peak.
The ocean curved around from where we’d ascended, and was closer now, the waves crashing just beyond, the glittery spray reaching into the fiery sky.
“We’re going to find peace here,” Layne said, squeezing my hand.
“Yes,” I said, mustering a smile. But I feared that I’d never find peace again.
forty-one
Tuck
Day Nineteen
The San Fernando Valley was a wasteland. Everywhere I looked were flattened piles of ash, whole neighborhoods burned to the ground. I drove slowly past what had once been a strip mall and was now nothing more than a heap of blackened bricks. Fear trembled in the back of my throat, and I braced as I rounded the corner of the street the Swansons lived on. A breath I hadn’t realized I’d held gusted from my mouth, a wave of cool relief washing over me when their house came into view.
It’s still standing.
Thank God. Thank God.
I turned off the car I’d located in the back of an auto body shop in Mission Viejo and hot-wired. It’d been a risk to drive through the outskirts of the city, but my risk assessment had changed since I’d said goodbye to Emily. I’d half expected to be blockaded or fired upon, but I’d gotten lucky, and the car had saved me a day of walking. I sat there for a moment, gathering myself. The Swansons’ house was still there, but that didn’t mean they were okay. In fact, now that I looked around, I was spotting clues that something bad had happened here. Bullet holes riddled the side of the burned-out car sitting across from where I was, and what I thought might be old blood was smeared across the street like a profusely bleeding body had been dragged.
I got out of the car and walked slowly across the street. A hawk’s screech echoed through the stillness, and I looked up to see the bird gliding across the clear blue sky. A lizard darted from behind a rock, momentarily startling me before zipping away.
“Tuck?”
I spun around to find a man, outlined by the sun and holding a rifle, causing my heart to jolt. I put my hands up and squinted as my eyes adjusted to the bright light. “Mr. Swanson?”
“Oh, thank the good Lord. It is you. Jena said it was, but I thought she must be mistaken.” He approached quickly and wrapped me in a bear hug. “Damn, it’s good to see you. Are you okay? You look okay.”
“Tuck!” Mrs. Swanson came running out of the house, obviously having been watching from a window while Mr. Swanson exited from the back and came around behind me.
Mrs. Swanson let out a cry and gathered me in a hug. “Oh, Tuck. You’re here. Where’s Emily?” Her eyes flared with fear, obviously afraid to ask.
“She’s okay,” I said. “She’s fine. She wrote you a note.” I took it from my pocket and handed it to Mrs. Swanson.
“Oh, thank you, God, thank you,” Emily’s mother said, looking over at her husband who gave her a nod, tears in his eyes. She opened the note and scanned it quickly, bringing two fingers to her lips as she read. When she was finished, she handed it to her husband. “Our girl is fine. She’s good. I told you Tuck would take care of her,” she said. She looked at me, smiling as tears shimmered in her eyes as well. “I told Phil there’s no one better to be with Emily. No one.” She hooked her arm through mine. “Come inside. I want to hear every detail about how you made it home.”
* * *
The Swansons’ exterior was riddled with bullet holes too, and a couple of the windows were boarded up. But the inside was undamaged and looked about the same as it had the last time I’d been there, what now felt like a hundred years ago. The Christmas tree that Mrs. Swanson had just been putting up when I’d been here last was still standing. My God, what day was it? The calendar had ceased having any meaning. Christmas had come and gone, and we hadn’t even noticed.
I told the Swansons about our plane crash, and the journey home from there, not able to relay every detail lest it take four hours to tell, and also, because some of those details belonged to Emily and me alone. My heart twisted when I thought of the moments that would only ever be ours and I missed her with a ferocity that nearly brought me to my knees.