Chapter 7

 

The Land Cruiser's engine whined, straining to climb the thick sand hill. Brooke shifted gears, giving it some gas.

 

“C'mon, baby,” Brooke whispered.

 

The SUV peeked over the top of the hill, and as it rolled downhill, Brooke downshifted.

 

Brooke checked the compass on the dash, making sure they were still on course. Her eyes moved from the compass to the fuel gauge. The short orange line teetered on the large “E.” They were averaging forty miles per hour and had been traveling for roughly an hour and a half. They were close. All she needed was to push it just a little farther.

 

Sand splashed across the windshield from a burst of wind. The grains scraped the glass and paint of the vehicle. The sun beating down, even in the protection of the cruiser, was incredibly intense. Brooke kept the A/C on low to avoid overheating the engine. The temperature outside read one hundred and ten.

 

In the distance, she could see the shimmer of the old solar cells.

 

“We're almost there,” Brooke said.

 

The engine coughed, causing all of them to jerk forward from the sudden stop in acceleration. The cruiser continued to struggle, inching forward in brief bursts of speed before slowing to a crawl.

 

“No,” Brooke whispered.

 

The fuel gauge hit its final resting place at the bottom of the massive “E.” Brooke pressed her foot down on the gas defiantly, trying to will the cruiser forward. But the steering wheel stiffened as the car gave its last push. They rolled a few more feet in the sand, but the cruiser didn't have anything left to give.

 

“What happened?” Emily asked.

 

“We're out of gas,” Brooke said.

 

“Are we close?” John asked.

 

Brooke pointed straight ahead to the shimmering in the distance she had seen moments ago.

 

“You see that?” Brooke asked. “That's where the solar station is.”

 

It was easily a four- to five-mile hike. Not something she thought her daughter could make, especially in this heat. And she couldn't leave Emily here alone. John would have to stay with her.

 

“I'll hike there and bring the fuel back,” Brooke said.

 

“You're going there alone?” John asked.

 

“You and your sister will stay here with the car and supplies. I shouldn't be more than a couple of hours.”

 

Brooke opened her door and stomped through the sand to the back of the cruiser to grab her pack. She dumped out only what she needed for the trip there and back. A few pieces of food, some water, and simple first aid supplies. It was dangerous not taking at least twenty-four hours of supplies with her, but she knew the fuel would be heavy on the way back, and she didn't want to add to the burden. She zipped up the main compartment of her pack, and John edged around the corner of the car.

 

“Mom, it's a long walk,” John said.

 

“You need to stay here and look after your sister.”

 

Brooke pulled the 9mm Ruger LCR double action revolver out of her waistband and handed it to her son. He held it awkwardly. She walked around behind him and adjusted his grip.

 

“Thumbs over thumbs. Don't place your finger on the trigger until you're ready to shoot. And when you do shoot, you want to squeeze the trigger, don't pull it,” Brooke said. “I don't think you'll run into any troublemakers out here, but I want you to have it just in case. If I'm not back by sundown, then something's wrong. I want you to wait here until tomorrow morning, then take your sister to the relay station, but come at it from the north.”

 

“Mom,” John said.

 

“It'll be a little bit of a longer walk, but you'll be in a better position to scout any trouble. There used to be a satellite phone there. Try and find it and call Aunt Amy. Let her know where you are.”

 

“Mom.”

 

“She'll try and get somebody to come and get you. I know she will. You'll have enough water and food to last you the week.”

 

“Let me go with you. I can help.”

 

“Your help is needed right here. Our lives depend on what's in this car. Without it, we're in serious trouble.”

 

Brooke kissed him on the forehead, receiving a mixture of sweat and sand on her lips. She wrapped Emily in a hug and told the two of them to watch out for each other. Brooke swathed her head in a shemagh, protecting her face from the sun and sand. The cloth combined with her sunglasses covered her entire head. She adjusted the straps on her back, making sure they were snug to reduce chafing, and began the long, hot trudge to the station.