They continued on their escape from the coming wildfires on the eastbound lanes of Highway 50. Full of stalled cars, Owen also had to drive slowly to avoid all the evacuees from the Bay Area who’d abandoned their vehicles and walked toward the east. Some climbed over the decorative fencing that separated the town’s business district from the once busy six-lane highway. Others stopped to follow the progress of the McDowells’ Bronco.
“I don’t like the way they look at us,” observed Lacey. “Some seem confused, but honestly, others look pissed.”
“I noticed that, too,” said Tucker. “A few of them actually turned and began jogging toward us. I think we need to get out of here.”
Owen eased the truck into the left-turn lane at the center of the highway. He nervously gripped the wheel and sped up until he was driving on the wrong side of the highway. There was only a fraction of the stalled cars in the westbound lane, so he was able to drive faster. Although he mentally prepared to avoid any oncoming vehicles, none ever materialized.
They were able to get out of Placerville without incident. However, seeing the hungry and desperate refugees was a wake-up call for them. Their tense silence eventually gave way to a conversation about the task at hand.
“We’ve gotta avoid the cities,” began Owen. “Heck, even the towns if possible. If this power outage is the same all over, there are gonna be people who will want our truck.”
“You’re right, Dad. We’ve got maps. We can even find state maps along the way.”
“I agree,” added Lacey. “We’re used to driving back roads on our trips anyway. We just need to plan ahead.”
“What about gas?” asked Tucker, who’d noticed his father glancing at the gauge often.
“At some point, we’re gonna need to keep an eye out for a place that might have a gas can.”
“Everything’s closed,” said Lacey.
Owen furrowed his brow and nervously fiddled with the gear shift knob. “I know. I’m talking about, um, on a farm or in someone’s garage or something.”
“Steal it?” asked Lacey.
“It won’t be of any use to them, honey,” said Owen matter-of-factly. “We’re also gonna need a siphon hose of some kind. If the gas pumps don’t work, then we’ll have to suck it out of other cars or even lawn equipment.”
“Do you know how to do that, Dad?”
“Um, well, no. We’ll have to figure it out. We’re kinda learning as we go, right?”
Tucker shrugged.
Lacey stared out the windows as they passed several farms. She wondered at what point they’d need to pull down a driveway and look for fuel. She was struck by the appearance of the sky. Naturally, she’d seen cloudy skies before, but this was different. It was if the sun wanted to fight through the smoky blanket thrown over them, but it couldn’t. Suddenly, a chill came over her body, and she unconsciously wrapped her arms around her midsection for protection.
“There’s another thing,” continued Owen. “We need to think about when it’s safe to drive. By that, I mean day or night.”
“Don’t you think most people will still sleep at night?” asked Tucker.
His dad nodded. “Yes. If we can make ourselves sleep during the day, I really do believe traveling at night will be a good idea.”
Lacey continued to look outside. Off in the distance, a man was slowly riding his horse from a barn to his house. He either wasn’t interested or hadn’t noticed them driving up the highway toward Nevada.
She decided to weigh in. “I don’t know, guys. We can’t control what people hear, but we can control what they see. Think about how dark it was in Auburn and on the highway to Placerville. Our headlights could’ve been seen for miles. In the daytime, unless they heard us coming, or happened to be close enough to see us like in town, we could travel undetected.”
Owen jutted his chin out and nodded. “The headlights are like a beacon.”
“Exactly,” said Lacey, who then explained her thought further. “Also, I hope nothing like this happens, but if somebody really wanted to take our truck, they could set up a roadblock if they saw us coming from a distance. That’s more likely to happen at night than during the day.”
“During the day, we can see them, too,” Tucker added.
Owen glanced over at the South Fork of the American River, a pristine blue stream that ran from the peaks of the Sierra Nevada Mountains until it found its way to the Sacramento River. He thought about the fact that all of their water had been stolen.
Up ahead, he noticed the sign for the Sand Flat Campground that was on the lower side of the highway adjacent to the river. They’d stopped by there once before to check out the river. However, they’d never stayed at roadside campgrounds, which were typically frequented by bikers and motor homes. Owen certainly didn’t plan on doing it during the apocalypse.
Nonetheless, it would give them a chance to regroup and fill their water bottles. He eased off the highway and slowly drove down the slope toward the river. He was relieved to see that the parking lot was empty, and there weren’t any campsites in use.
“Let’s catch our breath and repack the truck. Also, we need to fill our water bottles.”
As he pulled to the bottom of the access road, Lacey asked, “Is the water safe to drink? I mean, it came from the mountains, but what if it’s contaminated?”
Lacey and Owen exited the truck, but Tucker remained behind. He stretched his arm down to the floorboard of the back seat and retrieved one of the medical kits he’d taken from the bunker’s closet. He had a hunch, so he opened it for the first time to explore its contents.
He leaned forward in the seat and hollered for his parents. “Mom! Dad! I have something that might help.”
Because he was wedged in by their duffel bags, Tucker crawled through the seats and exited
