I lay my head on Charlie’s shoulder, the rocking of the car lulling me into a fitful sleep where I dreamed of bomb blasts and seas of screaming people. I woke with a start and Tuck looked back at me, his brow dipping as he took me in. Next to me, Charlie let out a soft snore. Then Leonard said something, and Tuck turned around, focusing back on their conversation. I tuned it out as best I could. I was already deeply disturbed by the fallout of this power outage and knew that at least in two cases, it had resulted in death. The shoes currently on my feet were a continual reminder of that. I didn’t need to let my mind spin toward war and mass starvation.

From what I’d heard Leonard say to Tuck, a drive that should have taken three hours, had so far taken us closer to five because of the slow nature of having to weave through broken-down traffic that became heavy in some areas. But I was deeply grateful for the ride, and though the lack of working traffic lights all the way from Springfield, Illinois, to the middle of Missouri, told me that we hadn’t escaped the power outage, we were closer to home than we’d been.

And I hadn’t had to walk.

The rocking of the car made me realize that I hadn’t emptied my bladder since right before we’d flagged down his car. “Uh, sir, would it be possible to stop for a short bathroom break at the next convenient spot?”

Leonard glanced in his rearview mirror, and I gave him a smile. “Sure thing. I could use a stretch myself.” He drove for a few more minutes until we came upon a wide area on the side of the road that was easy to pull off on.

A section of pine trees provided a spot to find some privacy, and Tuck got out and pulled the seat forward so I could exit too. Next to me, Charlie sat up and yawned. “Bathroom break,” I told him. He nodded and followed me from the car.

Charlie and I began heading toward the trees when I looked up to see a man emerge from the brush to my left. My heart seized, and I grabbed for Charlie, both of us stumbling back toward where Tuck was still standing. The man waved the weapon in our direction and then pointed it toward Leonard. “Show your hands and move away from the car,” he said.

My pulse spiked, heat blasting under my skin as my gaze darted to Tuck, who was watching the man with narrowed, wary eyes and then to Charlie, whose mouth was hanging open. We all raised our hands and shuffled to the side of the road, Tuck positioning his body so it was mostly in front of me.