Constant Fear by Daniel Palmer

option if the woods behind his trailer were impassable.
    Jake saved all year for the expo. Normally, he would have stocked up on supplies—freeze-dried foods, seed, communication equipment, medical kits, and homeopathic medicine—and the Tahoe was a good way of hauling it all home. But Andy had demanded they leave the expo early. Jake didn’t argue, so the back of the car contained only the camping gear they’d brought and some clothes.
    For the first hundred miles of the trip home, Andy had been silent. Jake did his best to coax some words out of his son, but Andy retreated into himself, with his thousand-yard stare fixed firmly on the scenery rolling past his window.
    Jake wasn’t angry with Andy. His son’s passion and conviction had impressed him and he’d said as much, but something was still bothering Andy. Whatever it was, he was keeping tight-lipped about it.
    They were about an hour outside Winston when Andy finally broke the quiet.
    “I’m going to stop, Dad,” Andy said. “I can’t drill anymore. I can’t prep, either. I’m done. And I mean done for good. I’m out.”
    Jake took his eyes off the road to give Andy a measured stare. This wasn’t a complete surprise. Jake had felt Andy pulling away for the past year. But something about the way Andy had announced his intentions felt final, nonnegotiable. The words hurt.
    Jake bit his tongue to hold back what he really wanted to say. “You’ve got to do what you think is right for you, I guess,” he managed.
    If he got angry with Andy, or tried to scare him the way Richard Weismann had tried with his EMP scenario, it would only push his son farther away. But to Jake, this was like hearing his son announce plans to go skating on thin ice. The end of civilization was as real to Jake as if he’d seen an army of advancing soldiers. It was coming; and if they were not prepared, it would level everything in its path—including his son, the most precious person in his life.
    “There’s more,” Andy said.
    Jake appraised Andy anew. “More than deciding to give up every advantage you can have when the day comes? That’s what the drills are for, son.”
    “No. This ‘more’ is about you.”
    “Look, no matter what, I’m not going to leave you behind. But you’re going to make it a lot harder than it needs to be. We’re a team here, and if you don’t drill, your skills will rust. You know that, don’t you?”
    “I want your skills to rust, Dad,” Andy said.
    Jake jerked the wheel. The car veered a little to the left, but he quickly recovered the steering.
    “Last I checked, I was the parent here and you were the kid. I can tell you what to do, but it doesn’t work the other way around.” Jake did a poor job of tempering the anger in his voice.
    Andy retreated to his view out the window. When he turned around again, his face was red and he was on the verge of tears. Jake knew from experience how difficult it could be to confront a parent. Andy’s emotions had welled up, and they needed a place to escape.
    “You know, Dad, just because you think the world is going to end, it doesn’t mean that I do. I’m tired of living your fear. It’s yours, not mine. Don’t you get that?”
    “It’s not science fiction. It’s all proven fact.”
    “Maybe so, but I happen to think the world is going to be just fine,” Andy said in a tone he’d never used before with his father. “I don’t think there’s going to be an EMP attack, or a solar flare, or a super volcano, or a biological agent, or freaking all-out nuclear war. It’s not going to happen in my lifetime. If it does, fine, but I don’t want to live like it is, because it’s not normal. ”
    “We are not abnormal,” Jake protested. “We’re prepared. There’s a difference.”
    “Growing up, I had more gas masks than toys,” Andy said. “That’s not normal, Dad. Not by a long shot.”
    They had just driven over a hilly rise. On the descent, the Tahoe picked up speed, going