Page 61 of Snowed In with her Mountain Men
“We’re talking accumulation that will shut down all the roads,” said Oakley. “Drifts, fifteen or twenty feet high.”
Almost on cue, flurries started. The little snowflakes swirled in random directions that didn’t seem normal.
“In a storm like this, wind is the biggest enemy,” Oakley continued. “Everything gets buried and reburied when it sweeps through.”
Kneeling between the two back seats, I bounced happily. “I hope the diner gets buried.”
Ryder chuckled at my enthusiasm. “Even if it doesn’t, it won’t be open until most people dig out. And that might not be for a long while. The forecasts for this storm keep getting worse.”
“Millie’s gonna shit,” agreed Oakley, “if she can’t over-water her plants every day.”
I shook my head. “Three-quarters of those plants are already dead,” I sighed. “And the ones that aren’t, are on life support.”
We rolled through town, where the streets were a strange combination of empty yet busy. Most people had already hurried indoors, but a few were frantically shopping in the stores that were still open, moving with a sense of urgency I hadn’t seen since leaving home. Soon, I knew, those stores would be closed too. But not before they were emptied of nearly everything perishable.
Eventually we stopped at a red light. Ryder glanced back at me, his big arm flexing where it rested on the military vehicle’s oversized steering wheel. He pointed at a few people frantically criss-crossing the street.
“You’ve never seen something like this, have you?”
“Are you kidding?” I grinned. “I’m from Florida.”
“So?”
“We have hurricanes, remember? People spend a whole week boarding up windows. They pile sandbags along the streets near the ocean, and along the inlets.”
“Oh,” he conceded. “Right.”
“Even when there’s athreatof a storm, they run out and buy damn near everything,” I sighed. “Forget about milk and eggs or bottled water, you can’t even get stupid shit like dishwasher tablets or toothpaste. They buy it all up, like the storm’s gonna keep us down so long we won’t be able to brush our teeth two months from now.”
Oakley laughed. “People panic in different ways, but in the end they’re all the same: they hate discomfort.”
“I saw this one woman buy a whole pallet of strawberry Pop-Tarts,” I giggled. “She was dragging it to the register with a skid-steer, and the Costco employees were trying to stop her.”
“Jeeze.”
“People were picking boxes of Pop-Tarts off the top, thinking she was bringing them out of the back,” I went on. “She was fighting them off with a three-foot baguette of french bread.”
“That sounds like Costco, alright,” chuckled Oakley.
“I saw two soccer moms throw down in there once,” Ryder added. “They were pulling hair, and swinging rotisserie chickens at each other.” He poked me. “You women are savage.”
“Damn right,” I poked him back. “And don’t you forget it.”
The next few hours were a whirlwind of activity. We parked the Marauder near the center of town, then split up to divide and conquer. I went to the pharmacy first, but had to hit three other places to find everything else on my list. I returneda little over an hour later to find Oakley loading a portable generator into the Marauder. Ryder showed up five minutes after that, both arms dangling with groceries. He had everything ranging from fresh fruit; to way too much peanut butter. Then again, can you really have too much peanut butter?
“All set,” said Ryder. He extended a gentlemanly hand to help lift me into the giant vehicle, and I took it. I could hop up on my own, of course, but I enjoyed every possible opportunity to feel those hands on my hips.
I slid into one of the Marauder’s many back seats, and wiped the frost from my window. The snow was falling thicker now, and faster too. It was a little alarming, how much it had picked up in such a short time.
“Just need these filled,” said Oakley, rattling two empty gasoline containers in each hand, “and we’re good to go.”
He hopped in and we took off, rolling back through the rapidly emptying streets. I was still cold, but I was starting not to mind it. Besides, with the impending storm, it felt like we were on some grand adventure. One that warmed me from within.
We were almost out of town when I looked to my left, and saw a building that should’ve been closed except the lights were on. There were still a small handful of cars in the parking lot, too.
“Do we have time to make one more stop?” I asked excitedly, pointing. “Please?”
“Is it quick?”
