Free Burn District 1 by Suzanne Jenkins

already.
    “The only reason I’m taking this is because of that email,” she said. “The one with the Winston Clarke video.” The unspoken words, in case your house survives.
    “Are we coming back?” Katherine asked.
    Miranda shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mom, no.” They got into the back of the van. Victor assumed the man driving or the one in the passenger seat was the same man who’d grabbed him from behind. There was no one else with them. Katherine was hugging Danny and they were whispering as the van pulled out of the driveway with the lights off. Miranda was sitting with Victor and Lexie, apologizing for causing them worry and heartache.
    “How did it happen? We got a call saying you were dead,” Katherine said. “It’s in all the papers.”
    “I’ll answer all your questions in time. Right now, the less you know about me, the better. No one is looking for me now.” She didn’t add because they have a body carrying her library card.
    “Won’t they begin to wonder if we suddenly disappear?” Miranda shook her head.
    “Mom, you just have to trust me. I’m so sorry. You’ll see, okay? It won’t be long.” The words had just left her mouth, suspended in air when a blast rocked the van.
    “Fuck!” driver Ed yelled.
    “Drive faster,” Alex shouted. Victor and the others twisted around in their seats to see what had happened and it was too much for Katherine who cried out, “Oh god! What was that?” The others demanding an explanation, Miranda shrugged her shoulders. What could she say that would mollify them?
    A police car, lights whirling, sped past, ignoring the black van. Victor poked his daughter in the arm. “You told me that our neighborhood wouldn’t be burned.” Miranda looked at her wailing mother, and then back to her father.
    “I guess I was wrong.”
     

Chapter 8
    Victor Garrison shifted in his seat, his neck stiff and mouth dry. “Are you sure I can’t help with the driving? I feel like my can is growing to the vinyl.” Alex looked in the rearview mirror and grinned.
    “I’ve got it covered for now. This car is not comfortable for long a trip, that’s for sure.” They’d been driving for hours, winding back and forth through detours necessary because of the destruction of the interstate.
    “This mess was not expected,” Ed Baker said, taking a break from driving. “Informants be damned, supposedly the road system would remain intact, and we can see that is not what happened.”
    “I guess the powers that be want to keep us in our place,” Miranda said. “They hoped we’d burrow in and wait for the bombs to drop. Instead, people are fleeing. The next best thing is to disrupt their journey by fucking up the roads.”
    “Miranda, do you mind?” Katherine Garrison said from the backseat.
    “Sorry, mother. But I’m afraid fucked up language will be the least of your problems in the future.”
    “I wonder why they just don’t drop a bomb on the traffic jams of people fleeing,” Alex said. “Seems like it might be easier.”
    “Watch. That’ll be next,” Ed said.
    Katherine Garrison was finally coming out of shock, seething. Slow-burning anger at her daughter replaced the amazement that not only were they fleeing for their lives, but the home she’d built for the past twenty five years had blown up right before her eyes. It was intentional; their house singled out. Victor kept telling her they were lucky to be out, that street by street, the area might be annihilated, the other residents not given fair warning as they had been. Katherine couldn’t help blaming Miranda, who made as much sense with her ridiculous conversation, as if they were living a science fiction nightmare.
    The first night on the run , as Miranda and her two tough-guy boyfriends kept referring to what they were doing, they only stopped once for twenty minutes at a roadside rest area to use the bathroom. One of the men was always looking around with his gun drawn while the other one