Free The Nightworld by Jack Blaine Page A

but I’m feeling a little guilty about taking it.
    “Don’t you think you might need some of this?”
    He brushes me off. “Not as much as you will, son. I plan to hole up and sit next to the fire, keep my toes warm burning that cord of wood my son bought for next winter. I have enough to get by for quite some time.”
    I can tell he’s just trying to make me feel better. I bet his son’s house is stocked about the same way the Holzers’ house is, which means he’s going to run out of food soon. I don’t have the heart to tell him the Subaru had enough supplies in it to keep us both going for weeks. I don’t want to think about how stupid I was not to put the car in the garage. Or whether the goons who stole it will come back to the neighborhood, looking for more. What will Gus do then?
    “What if you came with me?”
    He smiles at me, but he doesn’t make eye contact. “I need to wait here, son. I might have family coming back.”
    For a while, we just sit together, drinking our beers, thinking our thoughts. I don’t know what his are about. Mine are about my dad.
    I wish he were here. Gus reminds me of him, in some ways. My dad would help me out too, if I were a strange kid who showed up next door. He would try to make sure I was okay. He would give me supplies he could probably use himself. He was a good guy. No matter what his part was in the darkness coming, I know he didn’t mean to cause any harm. I know he’d try to fix it if he could.

Chapter 14
    It’s eight in the morning, but it looks like it’s around ten o’clock at night. My backpack is stuffed with everything we could fit into it and I’m wearing a set of Charlie’s thermal underwear beneath my jeans and sweater, along with a down jacket that belongs to Gus’s son. Gus showed up really early today to cook me a huge breakfast of scrambled eggs and sliced ham and toast that he brought from next door. He’s a pretty good cook.
    For the last two days Gus has been helping me—showing me different routes into the city on the map, drilling me with facts: keep hydrated but don’t waste water, eat small meals all day while I’m walking, sleep well hidden from all vantage points, with my back against something like a wall or a rock or a hill if possible.
    The television is out more and more. When we check the internet, the stories seem even more dated than the ones on TV. I show Gus the notes Mr. Holzer scribbled and the Geothermal Systems site. I show him the last text I got from Charlie. All he says is that it sounds like a place to start.
    I hold the curtain back from the sliding glass door, staring out at the backyard. The grass looks weird—sort of limp and gray—and the dandelions sprouting in the lawn are a creepy white color, like plants that have been growing under a rock. They’ll all be dead before they form their third leaves. Some of the ornamental plants have already succumbed to the colder temperatures. The only things that look sort of normal are the pine trees; so far they seem okay.
    I don’t want to go out there. But it’s time for me to do just that. I don’t know if I’ll find Lara, but I have to try. If I don’t find her, I’m heading to Detroit. Maybe there’s something there—maybe Charlie’s there.
    Gus comes out of the kitchen, drying his hands on a dish towel. “Make sure you stay off the roads like I said, son.”
    “I will.” I let the curtain drop. “Sure you aren’t coming?”
    Gus doesn’t answer.
    When I turn around, he’s staring at the tabletop, shaking his head. “I should, son. I know I should go with you instead of letting you face the trip alone. But I’m old. And if I’m going to die, I expect I’ll do it next door, waiting for my son.” He looks up and his eyes are shining in the dim light. “I’m sorry to let you down.”
    Part of me wishes he would come, because I am scared and I don’t want to be alone out there. But he doesn’t owe me anything. He’s tried to help me as