Page 114 of Waves of Fury

X to Your O,

Kell

The next few minutes are a mad flash of tears, tossing things into my backpack, and cursing that stupid man. He thinks I can just sit here while he ventures out into dangerous territory all alone? Not happening. He’ll die out there by himself. This world is too messed up to go at it with no one to have your back. Anything could happen. I can’t even begin to think about it or I’ll throw up.

A firm hand grabs my shoulder and I shake it off.

“Tyler,” Aaron says. “Calm down. What’s going on?”

My bottom lip trembles wildly as I thrust the wrinkled letter at him. “He left me.”

Aaron’s brows furl together. “Kellen left?”

I shoulder the backpack and wait impatiently for him to skim through the letter. When he finishes, his teeth clench together and he frowns at me.

“I have to go after him,” I tell him in a wobbly voice.

He nods. “We all do.”

Kellen’s right. It’s not safe for Hope or Jesse to travel. But we have no other choice. He’s a part of our group and he’s gone now. All alone. No one will want to sit around wondering what happened to him—whether he’s dead or alive or injured.

I sure as hell can’t wait another second.

Kellen

In a perfect world, I could drive from Goodland to Ransom in a little over two hours. By bike, I could get there within eleven hours. However, traveling by foot coupled with unforeseen dangers at every turn, the estimated walk time of fifty-plus hours will be more like sixty or seventy.

Just under three days.

I can do this.

One way or another, I’ll get to my destination in Kansas and will learn the fate of my brother. I’ve made it this far, so I can’t afford not to make it the rest of the way.

What will Dad say when I arrive?

Will I be met with his usual hostility?

What if they never made it there?

I’m jostled from thoughts of my family when another strong gust of air nearly knocks me on my ass. It’s as though I-70 is the inside of a straw and someone powerful and super annoying is on the other end, trying like hell to blow me into yesterday.

At least the air is warm.

Small victory.

However, the chill at my back and the warmth at my front has me worrying about another type of weather problem.

Tornadoes.

A car, on the other side of the interstate, drives slowly around broken-down cars and debris. Most of the roads we’ve encountered thus far have been blocked, damaged, completely gone, or guarded by unsavory people.

I keep holding out hope that I’ll come to an area of civilization that’s been aided by the military or some other government agency. But with each abandoned car and pilfered building I come across, that hope dwindles more and more.

The United States as I knew it is gone.

I’m guessing it’s much like this for the rest of the world, too.

Gerty, the asteroid that caused all of this decades and decades ago when she slammed into our moon, is responsible for the ultimate ruin of humankind.

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