That’s all powered by the electrical grid. The sewage and garbage will pile up in the streets, animals will start spreading infections, and food will start rotting, which will make people sicker and spread disease that much faster. But don’t worry, we’ll outrun it.”
Carrie looked at McLean with an expression he couldn’t quite read, somewhere between admiration and suspicion. “You’ve thought all this through, haven’t you? Every detail.”
He nodded. “It’s been kind of a hobby of mine. Kind of an all-consuming hobby. Maybe even a way of life, I guess.”
“And now you’re vindicated.”
“Well, yes.”
“I hope you feel satisfied with yourself!”
McLean stopped, shocked at the animosity in Carrie’s tone. She stopped too, breathing heavily from the climb, and glared at him.
“I didn’t want this to happen any more than you did,” he told her. “I just foresaw it.”
“But you’re not even bothered! People are dying down there, my friends are dying down there. Our country’s under some kind of attack, and all you want to do is run and hide at your getaway place. Some of us are losing everything, McLean! Watching our whole lives go down the drain. And it hurts.” She started to cry, and they both stood there for a horrible minute as tears streamed down her cheeks.
The hill they had summited was high enough to provide a glimpse of Denver through a gap in the trees. A haze of smoke hung over the valley, and they could see the interstate, scattered with stalled cars. McLean scratched his chin, wondering if he’d done something wrong, and what he could say now.
Then Carrie dropped her water bottle and hugged him, burying her face in his chest as she sobbed. He gingerly put his arms around her. That seemed to be the right move, because she gradually calmed down. McLean steered her over to a boulder nearby and they sat together.
Finally Carrie pulled away from him and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s a lot to deal with. All those people down there, hurting and afraid and in trouble.”
“It’s a terrible thing,” McLean agreed. “Not to mention your apartment, your job, everything you’ve worked for. It’s got to be hard for you.”
“No, I don’t care about any of that,” Carrie said. “Things don’t matter. But people… what about my parents? Is this happening in Washington, too?”
McLean put a hand on her shoulder. “Your parents are probably just fine. We have no reason to suspect anything bad is happening to them, so let’s not add those fears and worries to the ones we already have.”
Carrie shuddered, letting the last of her stress-induced outburst leave her body. “You’re right. I’m sorry I grouched at you. We can keep going.”
McLean stood up and handed Carrie her water bottle. “There’s nothing to apologize about, Carrie. You make a good point. I wish I could be a hero and stop all this, or turn it back. I feel horrible about the whole situation. But I’ve spent a lot of time thinking it through, and in the end I just feel helpless every time. So I’ve tried my best to at least make sure that I and the people I care about will be safe and secure.”
Carrie gave him another hug and then led the way over the hilltop and into the next low valley.
Throughout the afternoon they hiked, leaving the mountain communities behind and cutting through wilderness toward the horse ranch McLean’s friend owned. They encountered an old railroad track from the early twentieth century which hadn’t been used for fifty years, a landmark McLean had been looking for, and they traveled on it for the rest of the day, making good time. It kept them away from the roads, followed a fairly straight line through the mountains to the west, and stayed on easy terrain by design. Wherever a train could go, a person could go much easier than scrambling up and down rocks and hills and bushwhacking through the trees. It also avoided most of the houses and
Carrie looked at McLean with an expression he couldn’t quite read, somewhere between admiration and suspicion. “You’ve thought all this through, haven’t you? Every detail.”
He nodded. “It’s been kind of a hobby of mine. Kind of an all-consuming hobby. Maybe even a way of life, I guess.”
“And now you’re vindicated.”
“Well, yes.”
“I hope you feel satisfied with yourself!”
McLean stopped, shocked at the animosity in Carrie’s tone. She stopped too, breathing heavily from the climb, and glared at him.
“I didn’t want this to happen any more than you did,” he told her. “I just foresaw it.”
“But you’re not even bothered! People are dying down there, my friends are dying down there. Our country’s under some kind of attack, and all you want to do is run and hide at your getaway place. Some of us are losing everything, McLean! Watching our whole lives go down the drain. And it hurts.” She started to cry, and they both stood there for a horrible minute as tears streamed down her cheeks.
The hill they had summited was high enough to provide a glimpse of Denver through a gap in the trees. A haze of smoke hung over the valley, and they could see the interstate, scattered with stalled cars. McLean scratched his chin, wondering if he’d done something wrong, and what he could say now.
Then Carrie dropped her water bottle and hugged him, burying her face in his chest as she sobbed. He gingerly put his arms around her. That seemed to be the right move, because she gradually calmed down. McLean steered her over to a boulder nearby and they sat together.
Finally Carrie pulled away from him and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s a lot to deal with. All those people down there, hurting and afraid and in trouble.”
“It’s a terrible thing,” McLean agreed. “Not to mention your apartment, your job, everything you’ve worked for. It’s got to be hard for you.”
“No, I don’t care about any of that,” Carrie said. “Things don’t matter. But people… what about my parents? Is this happening in Washington, too?”
McLean put a hand on her shoulder. “Your parents are probably just fine. We have no reason to suspect anything bad is happening to them, so let’s not add those fears and worries to the ones we already have.”
Carrie shuddered, letting the last of her stress-induced outburst leave her body. “You’re right. I’m sorry I grouched at you. We can keep going.”
McLean stood up and handed Carrie her water bottle. “There’s nothing to apologize about, Carrie. You make a good point. I wish I could be a hero and stop all this, or turn it back. I feel horrible about the whole situation. But I’ve spent a lot of time thinking it through, and in the end I just feel helpless every time. So I’ve tried my best to at least make sure that I and the people I care about will be safe and secure.”
Carrie gave him another hug and then led the way over the hilltop and into the next low valley.
Throughout the afternoon they hiked, leaving the mountain communities behind and cutting through wilderness toward the horse ranch McLean’s friend owned. They encountered an old railroad track from the early twentieth century which hadn’t been used for fifty years, a landmark McLean had been looking for, and they traveled on it for the rest of the day, making good time. It kept them away from the roads, followed a fairly straight line through the mountains to the west, and stayed on easy terrain by design. Wherever a train could go, a person could go much easier than scrambling up and down rocks and hills and bushwhacking through the trees. It also avoided most of the houses and
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