October 11th, 2012

Rain streamed down the windows of Hannah's parent's house and I pulled my jacket tighter around me. Joe and I were going to get on the road this morning, but when the sky had darkened and the rain had started, he had insisted on waiting.

"It's not worth risking your health" he had said.

I couldn't exactly blame him; I was still weak after my near miss with the pneumonia. The clinic that Joe had taken me to had been miraculously still open, but was only taking large bribes to help people.

To get the medicine they had given me had cost us all of our cash. The longer the power stayed off, the worse things were going to get. I knew it instinctually, and Joe knew it from seeing it in combat in countries that had been torn apart by mad despots and our own crazed desire for justice and the need to spread democracy.

Hannah and her family had decided that they were going to stay in their small development and wait out the worst of the blackout—they were expecting that the power would be coming back on.

I had pulled Hannah aside and told her that she needed to tell them the truth, but she had shaken her head at me, frowning. "I can't do that to them Becca. They defected here from North Korea, and they implicitly trust the United States government. If I tell them that the power isn't coming back on and it's because our own government did this…" she had trailed off and shook her head, giving me a worried look.

I sighed at the recollection. I couldn't blame her for wanting her parents to feel secure, but it was a lie. The power wasn't coming back, and they needed to be prepared for that.

I stared out at the rain and wondered how many people were staying in their homes, patiently waiting for rescue that wasn't ever coming. How many were already dead from starvation or looters? How many had killed themselves?

The image of my bloodstained home flashed before me and I closed my eyes, my fingers tightening on my jacket until they were white.

I was an orphan.

My whole family was either dead or gone.

Pain and pressure built in my chest until it worked its way up, a sob ripping out of my throat, tears streaming down my face. I buried my face in my arms and wept; for the loss of my brother, my mother, and my father—who had been too concerned with his own life to stay and look for me.

Anger, pain, loss, disgust…they swirled inside of me like a raging storm.

I cried until my chest ached and my sobs quieted, my head pounding. I lifted my head and wiped my cheeks, feeling the storm inside cool and settle, the anger and disgust towards my father settling like a viper in my belly.

I brushed my hair back, pulling it up into a ponytail. Sighing, I stood and went to find Joe. We needed to get on the road tomorrow morning, rain or no.

October 12th, 2012

Joe and I walked up the highway, both of us quiet. Despite the grey sky I wore sunglasses, hiding my puffy, red eyes.

Hannah and I had cried as we had parted, despite our determination to be strong. She had held me tight and whispered, "Don't take risks. Let Joe protect you. Get home safe. I love you."

I had nodded and when I had pulled away had stared her firmly in the eye, murmuring, "Get your family out of here. It's not safe and you know it." She had given me a sad smile but had nodded, halfheartedly.

It terrified me.

She could die, and there was nothing I could do, no way to help her, and no way I would know what had happened.

I could only keep moving forward, keep helping Joe get back to the farm. We had no idea if things were okay there, but it was remote enough that he was confident that everyone would be safe there.

As we made our way down an off ramp to begin looking for a spot to sleep, I paused, hearing noise ahead. Joe tilted his head and then frowned. I looked up at him, "What is it?" I whispered.

He shook his head and waved a hand, pointing back up the ramp. He turned and began jogging back up it, leaving me to either stand and stare after him or follow. With a sigh I jogged after him and we jogged nearly a mile down the road before he slowed.

I panted and glared at him, "What the hell?"

Joe frowned, "Sorry kid, but you heard the sound of a fight back there. At least three people, possibly more. There wasn't a vantage point for me to see and I'm not about to walk you into a violent group."

I sighed and nodded, "Thanks for that. What now?"

He pointed to a sign a few feet down the road that indicated another exit was five miles away. I sighed and nodded, starting down the road. We stayed quiet for the next five miles, not knowing who was on the road, or how close to the road they were.

We went down the exit with caution, listening for signs of other people. Joe nodded and waved for me to follow him, leading me down the street of a small town. It looked abandoned, but appearances could be deceiving.

Joe walked us to an abandoned, half crumbling house on the outskirts of town and pushed the door open. We quickly moved through the house, making sure it was empty before making camp. We ate cans of beans and fruit for dinner, not wanting to risk a fire, despite the chill.

I shuddered against the chilly air and slid into my sleeping bag, desperate to be warm. Joe leaned against the doorframe, watching the road. He smiled faintly down at me.

"Sleep kid. I'll wake you in a few for your shift."

I nodded and closed my eyes.

What felt like minutes later Joe was shaking me awake. "Your shift."

I nodded and crawled out of the sleeping bag, leaving it for Joe. He handed me a cup of cold coffee and I gave him a bleary look of gratitude.

"How did you do that?"

He smiled, "Magic."

I smirked, nodding. Sipping on it, I stared out the window, keeping an eye on the road as Joe fell asleep. The hours slipped by slowly, leaving me bored, tense, and anxious. I ran through my Russian, murmuring phrases softly, eventually devolving into a mindless conversation with myself.

As the sun began to light the sky, turning it pink and orange, I went to Joe and shook him awake. This time I had the satisfaction of handing him an opened can of peaches and a protein bar.

"Bless you" he murmured as he wolfed down his breakfast. He eyed me, "What about you?"

"I already ate"

He nodded and finished quickly, gathering up his things. We headed out and made our way back up to the highway, startling a small herd of deer into flight. We continued down the highway, enjoying the sun on our faces.

As we walked I spied something in the distance. There was something on the large overhead sign…I squinted but couldn't make out what it was.

We approached and I gasped in horror.

Hanging from the overhead sign was a man. His face was a livid purple-black and his hands were tied behind him. Birds circled him, tearing pieces of flesh from his body. The breeze blew, sending the scent of rotting meat and waste towards us.

My stomach turned and I spun, retching.

I heard Joe moving behind me, the sound of a knife sawing through rope and then the sudden heavy thud of the body falling to the ground. I shuddered and wiped my face, the cold sweat that had broken out on my face chilling me.

Joe's hand came to rest on my shoulder. "You okay?" he asked softly.

I shook my head no, "What happened to him?" I asked, even though it was plain what had happened. I straightened and looked up at Joe.

He frowned, "This must have been one of the people we heard. It didn't end well."

I nodded and looked around, worried that whoever had done it was still around. "You think they're still here?" I asked.

Joe shook his head, "No, we're okay. But we need to move on."

I nodded sharply and we began walking again, quicker this time, the sight of the dead man making us both edgy.

When we had made it another five miles down the road another giant sign loomed.

I froze.

"Jesus Christ" Joe murmured, shaking his head.

A woman was strung up on this one. She was naked and looked as though she had been abused terribly.

My hands clenched into fists.

Joe looked over at me and I could see a glimpse of the soldier there. His shoulders squared. "We're getting off this road" he commanded.

I nodded, happily taking the order. We began walking, but paused for Joe to cut the woman down and cover her with a spare blanket from his pack. He led me down an exit ramp and to a gas station that had been abandoned and ransacked.

Pulling a map out we looked to see where we were, and how we could adjust our route. We had only been on the road for two days, and were outside Charlotte, North Carolina.

After a few minutes Joe found an alternate road for us to take. It would add two days of walking to our trip by his estimations, but to avoid whoever was killing people and stringing them up on the highway, it was worth it.

October 14th, 2012

I shivered in my sleeping bag, watching snow fall outside the window of the abandoned house we had taken refuge in. The previous day it had begun to get steadily colder, the sky darkening as we walked, and by evening snow was falling lightly.

Joe had frowned, but had deemed it safe enough to camp in our tent. We had huddled together for warmth as the temperature had plunged further, and neither of us slept well. Finally, as the sky grew lighter, Joe had forced us back onto the road to search out a house.

We had stumbled into a small town and had carefully scouted for a place to stay until we had found a home that looked abandoned. I had seen movement in other houses, but no one came out to stop us from entering.

Joe had set up the tent inside the house and had pulled nearly every blanket he could find into it to create a nest. Others were draped on the outside, creating barrier against the cold. He was inside now, sleeping.

It was my turn on watch, and I only had about thirty minutes left. We were running low on food, and the house was mostly picked over. I tried to ignore the aching sensation in my stomach, and the fact that I was tightening my belt each morning.

We were still passing bodies on the side of the road, though it seemed like some were dead from starvation and exposure, not violent means. It was no less startling to see.

We were still nearly a week from Joe's farm, and I knew that the farther north we went, the worse the weather would get. It was October, and I was worried about what winter would bring to the farm.

The back porch creaked and I turned, peering towards the back of the house, listening intently. I couldn't hear anything other than the soft sound of the snow falling. The porch creaked again and I stood, walking cautiously toward the sound.

I peered out the window and frowned, not seeing anything. It was just the cold and snow making the wood creak. I walked into the kitchen and stared forlornly into the pantry once again. Apparently whoever had lived here had taken all the food with them.

I reached out and grabbed a box of Pop-Tarts, cringing.

All the food except the shitty stuff. Chips, pretzels, Pop-Tarts, candy…nothing nutritional. Despite the lack of nutritional value I ripped open the pack of peanut butter Pop-Tarts and began eating them, my stomach rumbling in approval.

The door to the back porch blew open, snow swirling in as three men burst into the kitchen. I stared at them wide eyed, too startled to scream. We stared at each other for an instant before instinct took over and I sprinted for the living room, shouting for Joe.

I could hear the men pursuing me and knew I had only seconds to grab a weapon. My hands fumbled for a gun and as Joe stumbled from the tent, 9mm in hand, I came up with the shotgun. We came face to face with the men, the couch and a few feet separating us.

The men stared at us cautiously, hands in the air, all of them devoid of weapons. I still didn't trust them not to have weapons concealed. For all we knew these were the men who had been stringing people up on the highway.

I gripped the shotgun tighter and glared at them.

"What do you want?" Joe demanded.

One of the men stepped forward slightly and Joe shook his head, raising his gun to focus on the man. The man nodded and stepped back.

"We were just looking for shelter from the storm man. This place looked abandoned from the outside and we didn't look too carefully at the inside."

Joe frowned, "You could see our things from the front window. I don't believe you."

The man pointed over his shoulder, "We came from that direction, and we weren't looking too hard, we just wanted to get inside."

"And what were you going to do to the girl?" Joe demanded.

"Nothing man, we were just startled. We were worried she had weapons, which, clearly she does."

The man glanced between Joe and I and a leering look appeared on his face, "You hitting that man?" he asked, laughing.

Joe made a soft noise of anger and stepped forward, cutting off the man's laughter. "No. She's my daughter. If you want your eyeballs to stay in your head, stop looking at her like that."

The man nodded and raised a hand, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean any offense."

Joe snorted but nodded. The man lowered his hands and smiled in what I suppose was supposed to be a friendly way. "Now, this place is pretty big, you think we can share till the storm passes?" he asked.

Joe stared at him for a moment and then shook his head, "I don't think so. There are plenty of other houses nearby. You should stay in one of those."

The man stared at Joe and I, his eyes narrowing with something ugly. After a moment he smiled, nodding. "Fine. We'll clear out. You guys were here first after all." He waved a hand to the two other men with him and they all backed out of the room slowly.

Joe followed them, his gun still drawn. I waited until I heard the door open and close to relax my grip on the shotgun, lowering it slowly. A few minutes passed before Joe came back into the room, striding over to the window to peer out, keeping a sharp eye out for the men.

I stood beside him still clutching the shotgun, my nerves raw. "You think they'll be back?" I murmured.

Joe nodded, "Without a doubt." He peered up at the sky, frowning at the snow clouds. "If it would just slow down a bit I would get out on the road now." He looked over at me and shook his head, "I don't want you getting hurt or sick."

I frowned; we couldn't stay here with an active threat. "We could wait till dark and leave then" I suggested.

Joe sighed, "That's what I was thinking. I'm just worried about us walking in the snow and the dark." He stared out the window again and shook his head, running a hand over his bald skull, looking worried.

"We'll leave as soon as it gets dark. It's the only safe option."

I nodded and began gathering up the few things I had unpacked, repacking my bag. When I was done I grabbed the shotgun and went to watch the back door. Joe followed me and waved a hand towards the living room, "You should rest, we're going to be walking all night and you haven't slept for more than a few hours."

I shook my head, "They could come back."

Joe nodded, "They could. But you need the rest. Go lay on the couch and rest. I'll keep watch."

I frowned softly at him, but chose to follow his instructions. I lay on the couch, staring at the front door, nerves taut with the worry that the men would come bursting in. Eventually sleep caught me in its grasp and I rested for a few fitful hours.

Joe shook me awake as the sky was darkening.

I tugged another jacket on and slipped my boots back on, pulling my hair into a low ponytail before tugging a Carhartt woolen hat on and sliding my pack on my shoulders. As Joe opened the front door I slid my thick gloves on and followed him out into the dark, our feet crunching through the snow.

The wind blustered and cut through my layers, stealing my breath away with its bitterness. "Shit" I whispered. Joe tugged me forward, the bungee cord connecting us keeping us from being disconnected if the snow or wind got so bad that we couldn't see.

For hours we walked the snow and wind blowing at us from every direction. Eventually, as I stumbled and fell more and more, Joe slowed and brought us to a halt. We stood on the side of the road, nearly 50 miles from Maryland, shivering and shaking.

Joe took a deep breath and pointed, "There's a rest stop ahead. We only need to make it another 5 miles. Okay?" he murmured through chattering teeth.

I groaned softly but nodded. He gave me an encouraging smile and took off again, leading me into the darkness. I looked up at the sky and thought maybe it was starting to lighten. Dawn must be approaching…it was just so hard to tell after walking for so long and with the sky so dark from the snow.

Five miles later we stumbled into the rest station, pushing the doors closed behind us with a heavy thud. I wrinkled my nose, it smelled like sewage. Joe grinned at me, "It might not smell great, but it's warmer and drier than it is outside."

I nodded and followed him to an interior office where we unrolled our sleeping bags, huddling together for warmth. We both quickly fell asleep, too tired to keep watch.

The door to the office slammed open, startling Joe and I awake. I looked around blearily and found the three men that had broken into the house standing over us, guns in hand, grinning. The lead man leered, "I knew she wasn't your daughter. Look at that body…mmmm."

I looked around for the shotgun and the man whistled at me, "Hey sweetie, you lookin for this?" he said, drawing the shotgun out from behind his leg. My stomach sank. He had grabbed it while we were disoriented, and now we were weaponless.

Joe shifted beside me and stared the men down, "You men need to leave. Before someone gets hurt."

The man holding our shotgun laughed, turning to his friends. "You hear that boys? He thinks someone is going to get hurt." He turned back to Joe and smiled widely, "Don't worry man, you just do what I say, and everything will turn out just fine."

He pointed to me and my stomach fell. "You, come here."

"Don't." Joe commanded.

I stared between the two men and swallowed hard. I knew Joe had to have a plan. I couldn't believe anything else. Joe shook his head at me. Don't move his eyes conveyed.

"Now little lady or your daddy gets hurt." I winced at the man's voice and gave Joe a pleading look, trying to understand what I should do. He shook his head again, eyes begging me not to move.

I looked up at the men and swallowed, shaking my head. The man smiled, nasty and cruel. One of the other men stepped forward and grabbed my arm, his grip painful as he tugged me to my feet.

Joe moved like lightning, attacking the men with a ferocity I had never seen before. His fists pummeled the man holding our shotgun, knocking his head to the side and then back with a sharp uppercut.

Joe grabbed the shotgun and whirled, firing at one of the men before spinning and ducking as the other man holding me raised his gun and fired. I screamed, watching the bullet slam into Joe's shoulder, knocking him back.

Joe shouted in rage and pain, lunging forward to slam the butt of the gun against the man, knocking me loose. I watched in horror as Joe bled, grappling with the man, his fists, knees and feet landing blows until the other man had been beaten into submission.

Joe pointed the shotgun at the fallen men and fired, not hesitating. Blood splattered against the wall and my jeans. Somewhere in the back of my mind I was horrified, but the only thing I could think of at that moment was that Joe was hurt.

When all the men were dead Joe slumped against the wall, breathing heavily. I stumbled over the bodies to his side and lifted a hand to his shoulder, frowning at the blood rushing from it.

"Joe this is bad. Tell me what to do."

He nodded and stood from the wall, walking over to the desk to sit on its surface. "Get the aid kit from my pack."

I nodded and dug through his pack until I found it. Joe cringed as he pulled off his sweater, then his long sleeved shirt, and finally his tshirt. I swallowed hard at the sight of the gunshot, fighting the desire to be sick.

Joe grabbed my hand and gave me a steady look, "Listen kid, I need you to help me dig this bullet out. Then we can stitch it up and I'll be good. Okay?"

I nodded and gave him a shaky smile.

"Okay, look in the kit for a pair of pliers."

I nodded and dug through the kit until I found the pliers and grabbed a bottle of iodine. I poured some iodine over the wound and the pliers, taking a deep breath, preparing myself. Joe put a hand on my shoulder and stopped me.

He quickly unstrapped his belt and doubled it, resting it between his teeth. He nodded at me and I swallowed hard, nodding back. I held onto his shoulder and began digging into the wound, feeling for the bullet.

Joe writhed and moaned, sweat pouring down his face.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" I whispered, glancing up at his face before reaching deeper with the pliers. Joe groaned and slumped, the pain making him pass out. I felt the bullet and gripped it tightly, yanking it out in one sharp movement.

Joe jerked and gasped, sitting up, looking around with wide eyes.

I held up the bullet triumphantly and he nodded weakly, a faint smile on his lips. He pulled the belt from between his teeth, "G-good job kid. Gotta stitch it now."

I nodded and threw the bullet in the trash can. I searched the aid kit until I found a needle and thread, sterilizing both with the iodine. My fingers pinched the wound shut and I began running the needle through Joe's flesh.

My stomach turned at the sight but I firmly forced it to stay calm. When I had finished Joe nodded, "Good job kid." I smiled weakly and wrapped a bandage around his shoulder before helping him dress.

Joe looked around the bloody ruined room and shook his head, "We can't stay in here."

I sighed and ran a hand over my face, "Where else can we go?"

"Down the hall. I need to sit for awhile, eat something before we get on the road."

I frowned, "We should stay a day, you need rest."

Joe shook his head, "No. We can't delay any longer."

I could tell this was an argument I wasn't going to win. I shook my head and packed Joe's bag, grabbing our sleeping bags and our packs, heaving both onto my shoulders. Joe frowned at me and reached for his.

I sidestepped his hand and shook my head, "No, you need to rest. I'll carry this down the hall. I can't carry it while we walk, but I can do this now."

He smiled at me and followed me down the hall to the large reception area. We sank down on the floor together, leaning against the wall. Pulling the sleeping bags over us, I closed my eyes, the adrenaline making my hands twitch.

After a few minutes I heard Joe snoring.

Taking a shuddering breath I turned and looked at him, worried about his pale skin, wondering if he had lost too much blood. I watched him sleep for nearly two hours before I stood and wandered to the front doors, looking out at the road.

The snow had stopped finally.

If we were going to get on the road today, now was as good a time as any.

I turned and went back to Joe, shaking him awake. "Come on, we should get on the road" I murmured. He nodded and after some quick re-arranging of the contents of our packs to make his lighter, we headed back out into the cold.

October 20th, 2012

I walked slowly, my arm around Joe's waist, his around my shoulders. It had been five days since he had been shot, and we were almost to the farm. His wound had gotten infected, and despite giving him the antibiotics and painkillers in our aid kit, he was still sick.

We were both exhausted from the constant walking, lack of food, and the strain the changing weather was placing on our weakened bodies. I looked around and realized we were only about a quarter of a mile from the farm.

New energy coursed through my veins and I tugged Joe's arm tighter around my shoulders. He gazed down at me blearily, "Whatsup kid?" he slurred.

"Almost home. Another quarter of a mile and we're there!" I smiled at him, trying to encourage him to walk faster. He nodded and we moved incrementally faster towards home. Half an hour later we crested the hill and walked up the drive to the house.

I breathed a sigh of relief to see smoke rising from the chimney and figures moving between the barn and the house. Our people were still here.

As we approached there was a shout from one of the men and people poured out of the house, running to greet us.

"What happened? We thought you were leaving."

"What's wrong with Joe?"

"Are you guys okay?"

I shook my head, "I'll explain once we get him inside. He's sick."

A woman stepped forward, looking concerned. She wrapped an arm around Joe's waist and helped me assist him up the stairs. She smiled at me as we eased him down on the couch.

"I'm Caroline; I was a doctor in Philly."

I sighed in relief, "Good, he needs you. He got shot and I cleaned everything, but he's still sick." I stared down at Joe with worry; he was half awake and looked like shit. Caroline nodded and began ordering people out of the room, leaving herself for a few minutes, only to return with a medical bag.

She knelt beside Joe and began tending to his wound, glancing over at me occasionally. "Are you alright?" she asked. "Are you hurt?"

I shook my head, "I'm fine, just exhausted. How are things here? Are we well supplied?" I asked.

Caroline nodded, "A few people chose to leave, and we decided to give them fair amounts of food. We've made runs out to grocery stores and gotten food there, and from abandoned homes. We have the well for water, and we hunt. We ration to make sure we stay on top, but things are okay."

When she finished tending to Joe she turned to me, her expression serious. "He's in bad shape. He has sepsis. The antibiotics you gave him helped fight it, but he needs something stronger. I don't have it, and I'll need to go to the local town to try and find it."

I nodded, "I'm coming with you."

She shook her head, "You need to rest. I'll take a few of the men and we'll be back before you know it." When I opened my mouth to protest, she shook her head, "Rest. Doctor's orders."

I smiled tiredly and nodded. Pulling my sleeping bag out, I laid down on the floor beside Joe. There was no way I was leaving him alone, even if we were safe.

Caroline smiled at me, crouching to brush my hair back and stroke my cheek. The action was so reminiscent of my mother it brought tears to my eyes for a moment. She stood and glanced at Joe before looking back to me, "He should be fine to rest for awhile. If he wakes, get him to eat and drink. He'll need energy."

I nodded and watched her walk out to the kitchen to speak with a group of the men. A few minutes later they were gathering their things, getting ready to head out. I turned on my side and stared up at Joe, watching him sleep.

I could see new lines on his face that hadn't been there before and his skin had an unhealthy pallor. It frightened me to see him look so weak. It frightened me more to feel so weak.

A thought borne from the exhaustion and fear I felt wormed its way into my head and chased itself around as I fell asleep.

This blackout was going to kill all of us.