Paradigm Read Free Page B

propose we find some?”
    “In a city.”
    “Right.”
    “No, really, think it through, Sam. That’s what people keep asking for. Everywhere we go, they want light bulbs. So why don’t we get some for them? I mean, we could go to a city, buy some there, bring them back out here and make a killing.”
    “Or get killed, which is much more likely.”
    “Why should we get killed? We’ll just go there, buy some light bulbs and leave.”
    Sam looked at him and shook his head.
    “You see,” he said, “This is exactly why people should read books. Whenever a character says a thing is straightforward and they’ll just go in and out and be done with it, something always happens.”
    “Yeah, but—”
    “Something bad.”
    “But we’re not going to stay or anything. Just buy some stuff and leave. I don’t get your problem. I mean, what could possibly go wrong?”
    A wide grin spread across Sam’s face.
    “Perfect.”
    He pulled the dog-eared book out of his pocket and rolled over to try and get some light.
    “So you won’t go?”
    “Nope.”
    “Great. Can I sleep in the car?”
    “No.”
    “Ah, c’mon. It’s going to be freezing tonight. I’ve only got this lousy blanket and you’ve got that big coat .”
    Sam considered offering him the coat, but thought better of it. Nathan looked so miserable—it would have been like kicking a puppy. And it wasn’t like he could sleep in there himself. It had been months since he’d been able fold himself up small enough to sleep in the back seat without losing all feeling in at least one of his legs.
    “Okay,” he said, finally. “But take your boots off before you get in.”
    Nathan nodded and walked over to the car. He yanked his boots off, pulled the tarp up and scrambled into the back seat.
    Sam couldn’t help feeling a pang of jealousy as the door thunked shut. He had loved sleeping in the car. The clunk of the door and the way the curve of the back seat embraced his body, had made him feel safe and secure and allowed him to forget about the outside world and all the people in it. It was almost like being at home.
    Almost.
    He stared up at the night sky. It didn’t look yellow now, just dark. The sky at night had always been dark, of course, but he had read that there used to be stars. There were probably still stars, far away, across light years of space, blinking at the shrouded Earth. But their meager light was no match for the lowering clouds that clung to the once-blue planet like an old man’s cataract. There was still the moon, though, a blurry yellow glow in the sky. It seemed quite big tonight. Perhaps it was a harvest moon.
    Sam had read about those, too.
    A cold breeze skittered across the valley floor, probing for flesh and chilling to the bone. He pulled his coat closer and built up the fire. He kept it small, though—no sense in attracting attention. He watched the flames for a while and tried reading his book, but the firelight just made the letters dance on the page. He put it back in his pocket and pulled out his old pocket watch. It wasn’t some family heirloom or anything, just something he’d won in a card game, but he really loved it. He loved its simplicity and complexity and he loved taking off the back and watching the little gears swinging backwards and forwards as they counted down the seconds. He’d even bought himself a proper vest so he could wear it like the people he’d seen in old photographs. Ten o’clock. He laid the watch down carefully, coiling the chain and fob around it, and watched the firelight reflected in the brass.
    Cities.
    His parents had always avoided them. He’d seen some from a distance, but only ever been to one—Chicago. He’d been nine then, and they’d been living in a small settlement about ten miles away for nearly six months. It was one of the longest times they’d stayed in one place. He’d even made a few friends and begun to think that this time they might really settle down for good. But