commodity that was more precious than water was time. Every second spent at the abandoned solar station on the edge of the Mojave was one more second the president's troops had to further establish the new western border of the United States.
The chaos in San Diego Brooke had escaped from had started long before the president's speech. Once word broke out that the Colorado River was dry, people had started looting any resource station in the area. The small thread of civility that still remained was cut with the president's words.
She leaned the solar panel up against the side of her Toyota Land Cruiser 70 Series. Brooke had invested in the SUV for her engineering job at the solar power company. It was one of the best decisions she had made. The cruiser wasn't great on gas mileage, but with its live-action axle, four-wheel drive, and 5.7-L V8 engine, complimented with the thirty-two-inch all-terrain tires made navigating the sea of sand easy.
That car was one of her biggest advantages at the moment. There weren't many vehicles that could handle the terrain and punishment of desert travel, but hers could.
The solar panel she brought over gave her a total of six, which she thought was more than enough to provide power to a spare car battery she had found. It could come in handy for bartering or if something happened to the cruiser.
All she needed now was the copper wire to rig up the battery. Brooke pulled her sleeve up to check her watch. Lunch time.
Brooke covered the panels with a spare tarp she’d found. She didn't want to leave the panels in worse condition than they already were. Her feet sifted through the sand, sinking in and out as she trudged to the station's entrance.
Both her children were huddled close to the vents, attempting to stay cool with what little air conditioning the building provided.
“You guys hungry?” Brooke asked.
Emily, her nine-year-old daughter, nodded emphatically. John, her fourteen-year-old son, agreed.
“What do we have to eat?” John asked.
Most of the station had been picked over by both the company that used to operate it and scavengers looking for a quick score. But there were still some useful items. She had found some of the emergency rations that morning after taking inventory of the first aid supplies left behind.
Brooke picked up one of the MREs and turned it over in her hand. “Looks like beef stew and mashed potatoes,” Brooke said.
Emily and John frowned.
“Anything else?” Emily asked.
Brooke tossed her daughter the pack.
“Now's not the time to be picky, Em,” Brooke answered.
“Why can't we open up the food we brought?” Emily asked.
“I want to work through what we find here first. Once we run out of this stuff, we'll start digging into our own stash,” Brooke replied.
They had brought as many supplies as they could stuff into the cruiser, which was packed with filled portable water tanks, canned foods, and more MRE rations. There was enough food to last them a month, but the water supply would only get them through the week.
The three of them choked down their meals. Emily and John made a bigger fuss about it than necessary, but even Brooke admitted it wasn't the best.
“We'll probably be here one more night, so let's try and keep it fairly clean, okay?” Brooke asked.
“We still have to clean our rooms even when the world is collapsing around us,” John said, picking up the pieces of litter from their MREs.
Brooke pulled a piece of paper from her pocket with random items inked in hurried handwriting. John stopped his cleaning when Brooke extended the paper to him.
“What's this?” John asked.
“I need you to check how many of the items on this list we have. It could be a while before we get to see Aunt Amy in North Carolina, so I need you to inventory everything that's on there. If we don't have it, try and find it. The items crossed off
The chaos in San Diego Brooke had escaped from had started long before the president's speech. Once word broke out that the Colorado River was dry, people had started looting any resource station in the area. The small thread of civility that still remained was cut with the president's words.
She leaned the solar panel up against the side of her Toyota Land Cruiser 70 Series. Brooke had invested in the SUV for her engineering job at the solar power company. It was one of the best decisions she had made. The cruiser wasn't great on gas mileage, but with its live-action axle, four-wheel drive, and 5.7-L V8 engine, complimented with the thirty-two-inch all-terrain tires made navigating the sea of sand easy.
That car was one of her biggest advantages at the moment. There weren't many vehicles that could handle the terrain and punishment of desert travel, but hers could.
The solar panel she brought over gave her a total of six, which she thought was more than enough to provide power to a spare car battery she had found. It could come in handy for bartering or if something happened to the cruiser.
All she needed now was the copper wire to rig up the battery. Brooke pulled her sleeve up to check her watch. Lunch time.
Brooke covered the panels with a spare tarp she’d found. She didn't want to leave the panels in worse condition than they already were. Her feet sifted through the sand, sinking in and out as she trudged to the station's entrance.
Both her children were huddled close to the vents, attempting to stay cool with what little air conditioning the building provided.
“You guys hungry?” Brooke asked.
Emily, her nine-year-old daughter, nodded emphatically. John, her fourteen-year-old son, agreed.
“What do we have to eat?” John asked.
Most of the station had been picked over by both the company that used to operate it and scavengers looking for a quick score. But there were still some useful items. She had found some of the emergency rations that morning after taking inventory of the first aid supplies left behind.
Brooke picked up one of the MREs and turned it over in her hand. “Looks like beef stew and mashed potatoes,” Brooke said.
Emily and John frowned.
“Anything else?” Emily asked.
Brooke tossed her daughter the pack.
“Now's not the time to be picky, Em,” Brooke answered.
“Why can't we open up the food we brought?” Emily asked.
“I want to work through what we find here first. Once we run out of this stuff, we'll start digging into our own stash,” Brooke replied.
They had brought as many supplies as they could stuff into the cruiser, which was packed with filled portable water tanks, canned foods, and more MRE rations. There was enough food to last them a month, but the water supply would only get them through the week.
The three of them choked down their meals. Emily and John made a bigger fuss about it than necessary, but even Brooke admitted it wasn't the best.
“We'll probably be here one more night, so let's try and keep it fairly clean, okay?” Brooke asked.
“We still have to clean our rooms even when the world is collapsing around us,” John said, picking up the pieces of litter from their MREs.
Brooke pulled a piece of paper from her pocket with random items inked in hurried handwriting. John stopped his cleaning when Brooke extended the paper to him.
“What's this?” John asked.
“I need you to check how many of the items on this list we have. It could be a while before we get to see Aunt Amy in North Carolina, so I need you to inventory everything that's on there. If we don't have it, try and find it. The items crossed off
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