Savage Drift

^{CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE} DEAN

The wind had shifted and now the drift was hitting the windshield.

Astrid turned on the windshield wipers.

The black grit lay like a film on the glass, then was wiped away. Clung, was wiped, clung, was wiped.

I looked at the particles of drift that had clung to the side window. Each was tiny. Dust-speck tiny—and each a little perfect square. Much smaller than a grain of sand. Not cubic, but flat. Flat black death, particled out.

Beyond the window, we were passing through the streets of Vinita. We saw fires, people coming, screaming out of their homes.

Through the dark, sifting sandstorm people were dying and trying to save each other on every street.

“You’ve got to turn around,” Jake said. “Get back on the highway.”

Astrid pulled over abruptly, driving the car up onto the sidewalk.

“I can’t breathe,” she said, her words coming thickly through her mouthpiece. “Gonna throw up.”

Within the zipped suit, she popped out her mouthpiece.

“That’s not a good idea, Astrid!” Niko said, sharply concerned.

“I’m gonna hurl!” she wailed. She started to unzip her suit.

I leaned across, into the front seat and stopped her hand.

“Astrid!” I said. “Look at me.”

Her body and face were completely sealed within the suit.

She looked up and through the clear visors of our two suits, she locked into my eyes.

“Breathe,” I told her. “It’s okay. There’s enough air in the suit. Breathe.”

“Don’t let her take the suit off!” Jake added.

“She’s gonna be fine, Jake,” I said without breaking eye contact with her. I kept my voice steady. “Just breathe, Astrid.”

Maybe it sounds dumb, but this space, right here, this connection between us, was the foundation of our relationship. She knew that she could count on me to be there. Yeah, I had been a total nerd who had a crush on her and we were an unlikely pair. But she knew I was there for her and that meant something.

What were we saying to each other, through the plastic?

Then: And it’s going to be okay.

Astrid put her mouthpiece back in and settled back into her seat. She tried to swipe at her tears, using the gloves of the suit, but it didn’t really work.

“You’re crushing my leg, man,” Jake complained to me.

I shifted back into the backseat.

“Somebody else should drive,” Astrid said. And Niko and she climbed over each other to switch places.

We didn’t dare to open the car doors—not with the drift still peppering the car when the wind changed.

Niko got us on the highway, headed north.

When the air was clear, we felt it was safe to take off the masks.

Astrid put her head in her hands. I didn’t need to see her shoulders shaking to know she was crying.

She was sitting in front of me so I put my hand over the seat back and patted her on the shoulder.

“That was horrible,” I said.

“That poor woman,” Astrid choked out.

“They should be warning people!” Jake said, struggling to keep his voice even. “Everyone thinks they’re rumors, but the drifts are real!”

“It’s the military,” I said. “They must be keeping the story quiet. But why?”

“To keep people from panicking,” Niko said, his eyes on the road. “To keep them from evacuating.”

“Why would they do that?” Jake asked.

“I don’t know,” Niko said. “Maybe because there’s no place left to go.”

Jake and I had to do some moving around and reorganizing to get comfortable in the backseat.

“That poor woman was nutso,” Jake said. And it was true. She had loaded a totally bizarre selection of household items into her backseat.

There was:

An oscillating fan.

An industrial-size carton of Goldfish crackers, which Jake started to eat immediately.

Four giant photo albums, dated 2019–2023.

A set of jumper cables and, man, she was thinking ahead, snow chains for the tires.

A large makeup box/kit kind of thing.

A six-pack of protein shakes and a variety of snack foods.

Two unopened canisters of tennis balls.

A houseplant.

A box of dishes that had broken when she threw them in the car.

“And lookee, lookee!” Jake crowed. “Mama was planning ahead.”

He brandished a half-full bottle of scotch.

He uncorked it and took a swig.

“Jeez, Jake,” I said.

“Is that really a good idea?” Niko asked.

“We just saw Rocco Caputo die. We almost got shot and then blown up by a truck. We saw some poor crazy woman we don’t know die. We saw a man hacking her body to bits with a kitchen knife. I think getting wasted is a GREAT idea. I really do.”

And he chugged. Straight scotch. Ugh.

“That’s enough,” I said. “Give me the bottle.”

“You want some?” he asked.

“No, I’m going to put it away.”

“You’re not my freakin’ nanny, Geraldine!” Jake yelled.

“Quiet!” Astrid snapped.

“You heard her!” I said, making a snatch for the bottle.

“Both of you shut up!” she yelled. “I HEAR something.”

All four of us fell silent.

All I could hear was the engine droning and the thud of my own heartbeat.

“Never mind,” she said. She relaxed into her seat.

Jake took another drink from the bottle and then munched on a handful of Goldfish.

“You don’t care that Jake’s getting drunk?” I asked Astrid. “That doesn’t bother you?”

“I wish I could get drunk myself,” she said. She sounded miserable.

“I wonder if we can make it to Missouri on this tank of gas,” Niko said. “We have three-quarters of a tank.”

I sat back and looked out the window.

Miles of drying farmland blurred past.

“I wish we could have saved that woman,” Astrid said.

“I know,” I told her.

Astrid reached over and turned on the radio. FM and XM stations were all down, but there was some of that funny, fuzzy AM radio to be had. There was nothing on the radio about the drift.

“Hey, Astrid,” Niko said. “I know it’s probably pointless, but would you try the GPS?”

I shifted around in my seat, getting comfortable.

In my lap I held what looked like an empty fishbowl. Seemed like the floor mat was damp—something wet pressing against my leg, though the moisture didn’t seep through the leg of my safety suit.

Maybe there was a dead fish down there somewhere.

I stared out the window and after a few minutes I realized my hands were still shaking.

“Don’t you think we should try to warn people?” Astrid asked Niko quietly.

Jake took another swig of the whisky.

I could swear his eyes were red. I could swear he was crying there, looking out the window.

“We can’t save everyone,” Niko said. “But we can still get Josie out of Mizzou, if we’re lucky.”

I knew I should sleep but I couldn’t.

We drove for a couple hours, putting mile after mile between us and Vinita, Oklahoma. The roads were clear—not much traffic at all.

We rolled down the suits, knotting them at the waist as the soldiers had done.

We caught part of President Booker’s weekly address:

And then the “Star-Spangled Banner” started playing.

Nothing about the drifts.

Did he not know? Was that possible?

If the Network had been running, everybody would know. There’d be images and videos and alarms going off all over the online world.

But only the government had access to the Network now.

It made me feel scared. What else were they keeping from us?

“They’re gonna impeach Booker,” Jake snorted. “The drifts. The NORAD thing. The way he’s handled everything.”

“No, they’re not,” I scoffed. “Who told you that?”

“Rocco.”

“Are you serious? He was a right-wing idiot—”

“Hey!” Jake said, pressing a finger into my chest. “Don’t speak bad of the dead.”

And he held my glance for a moment. His head wavered as he tried to look me in the eye.

Then he threw up his hands and laughed, trying to play off his serious tone.

“I’m just joshin’ you, man,” he said. “Sometimes I think you’re really lame, Dean. A real wet blanket—”

“Oh God, shut up, Jake,” Astrid said from the front seat.

“Let me finish, now, let me finish,” he drawled. “But then I see you’re not such a d-bag. There. See? I had something good to say.”

I chuffed a laugh. Some compliment.

I didn’t respond. Maybe he’d fall asleep. He was drunk enough. Heck, maybe he’d fall out of the car.

“Anybody want some Goldfish?” I asked. “There’s also a box of Golden Grahams and some kiddy applesauce squeezer thingies.”

I tossed up some juice boxes into the front seat, too.

We ate, we drove. Niko said we were at least four hours from Mizzou, though we’d need gas before then.

We still had our gas credits, whatever that meant. I realized we still had our money, too. We’d never paid Rocco.

Niko encouraged us all to get some sleep.

I guess I drifted off because I woke up to Astrid saying, “There! I heard it again! Didn’t you hear it?”

“I didn’t hear anything,” Niko said and he shut off the radio.

“Pull over,” Astrid commanded.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Just pull over, Niko. Right now.”

Niko pulled onto the shoulder and cut the engine.

We waited. Jake snored. I started to ask Astrid more about this phantom sound but she cut me off, holding her hand up. Her head was cocked.

And then I heard it.

A soft, muted thumping. Coming from behind me.

And a wail. “Mommy!”