Hugh Howey: The Hurricane

“Nice to meet you,” she said, letting go of Chen and shaking her hand.

“And this is her dad, Edward.” His mom turned and waved, thanking him. Edward smiled back, and Daniel saw the way their father was watching the entire scene from across the hood of the Bronco. His mother looked at their father for a second, and his father smiled. Daniel could’ve sworn his mom nodded his direction just a little as she squeezed Hunter’s arm.

“Carlton borrowed a canister of propane from the couple across the street,” their mom said. “He’s grilling some chicken out back before it spoils. Daniel, why don’t you go see if he needs any help.” She nodded to Hunter and Chen. “You two can get freshened up. And Edward, we’ve got plenty if the two of you will join us. It’s the least we can do to repay you for picking Hunter up.”

“Love to,” Edward said, smiling. He rubbed his beard. “Let’s unload and I’ll go park the car and grab some tomatoes.”

“Yum,” Hunter said, rubbing his stomach.

Daniel wanted to point out to his mom that Hunter and Chen hadn’t been doing much of anything for the past two days and didn’t need “freshening up.” But Anna was grabbing bags out of the back and forcing them into his hands, his mother shooing him toward the house before he could complain. Before he knew it, he was setting the bags down in the dining room and watching the Bronco back out of the driveway. He could see Anna’s face in the passenger seat as she peered out toward the house. Daniel wondered suddenly if the connection between them would be severed as soon as she was out of sight. What would it feel like to see her again, for the first time post-hand-holding? What were they? How did millions of people go through this and survive to giggle about it on the other side?

Daniel pulled some canned goods from one of the bags and arranged them on the table. He could feel a powerful depression looming if Anna decided their moment had been a mistake. It was easy to imagine only Edward coming over for dinner, telling the rest of them that “Anna didn’t feel well,” casting a glance toward Daniel as if he’d done something wrong.

Misery and joy , Daniel decided. This is how you know you’re in love.

Fortunately, Anna did come over, and a shy smile in Daniel’s direction let him know their bond could survive stretching the length of their neighborhood. She and her dad arranged some vegetables on the chopping block in the kitchen. Everyone else was out back, wrestling the furniture on the rear deck into place, picking the twigs and leaves out of the webbed chairs and fussing over the smorgasbord of food scavenged from the cabinets. Daniel could see Carlton and his dad standing by the grill, the chicken hissing and smoking, two small pots on the upper rack spitting with side dishes. The sight of the two men—father and stepfather—standing together amicably seemed surreal. Daniel accepted the plate of freshly sliced tomatoes shoved into his hands and allowed Anna to steer him toward the sliding screen door.

“I think we’re almost ready,” his mom yelled at the upper floor. Daniel heard his brother shout something back through the open window. The temporary sleeping arrangements had been quickly set: Daniel was moving into Hunter’s room with his brother, and Chen and Zola were sharing his. He had tried not to grumble about it too much. His brother had looked ready to be dropped back off at Chen’s house.

“Grab a plate,” his mom said. She pointed to a stack of paper plates on the table. Daniel grabbed one for Anna and took one for himself. Carlton dropped a piece of BBQ-rubbed chicken on each of their plates. Daniel’s father added a scoop of warmed-up canned beans and instant mashed potatoes. To Daniel, the sparse fare looked like Thanksgiving.

His brother and Chen joined them on the deck, followed soon after by Zola. Edward went around forking slices of tomato onto everyone’s plates. Daniel and Anna sat on the steps leading down to the back yard while the others scrambled for room around the oval table. Their father put his food together last and ate standing, his cup balanced on the deck’s wooden rail.

While they ate, Hunter and Edward took turns telling the others about what they’d seen in town, about the gas pump, the cops at the grocery store, the beached fleet of sailboats, all the downed power lines and the wrecked roofs. Zola asked if there’d been any cell phone signal, and everyone was surprised to realize that they hadn’t even checked.

Daniel dove into his food and watched Anna enjoy hers. They exchanged smiles while they chewed, as if the two of them possessed a secret. Chainsaws hummed in the distance; everyone laughed and ate and gossiped. Chen seemed to take perverse delight in telling their mom that she’d warned Hunter to park the Taurus out in the yard. News of the car, however, was still a sore spot for their mom, who chewed her dinner and didn’t laugh with the others while they recounted their search for the insurance card and their attempts to work the radio.

As far as Daniel could tell, it was the most normal, bizarre meal he’d ever had. Looking up, he could see the limbs of the great oak from the front yard reaching over the peak of the damaged roof. One massive broken limb draped over the back and was bushy with leaves. That he could get so quickly used to such newness as the tree on his house made his infatuation with Anna almost believable. Which was stranger or more sudden? As Anna stabbed the last of his tomato off his plate and popped it into her mouth, Daniel slashed at her fork with his as if jousting, and oddly enough wished that nothing in his world would ever change—

“Holy shit, I’ve got a bar,” Zola said.

“Language, young lady,” their mother said, but everyone else stopped chewing and turned to look at her. She held her phone in the air, tilted the screen down and peered up at it. She spun in place, as if trying to divine the pocket of most reception. Hunter and Chen both began digging their phones out of their pockets.

“It’s gone,” Zola said. She walked down the steps between Daniel and Anna, waving the phone in the air. “Come back,” she called after the ephemeral bar.

“I’ve got signal,” Hunter said. He pressed some buttons.

“Who’re you calling?” Chen asked.

“You,” he said. Everyone sat breathless. He lowered the phone and looked at it. “It says the network is full.”

“Me too,” Zola said, holding the phone to her ear.

“I bet everyone is trying to use them,” Daniel pointed out.

“There might be signal but no service for quite some time,” Edward said.

“Honey, don’t just keep redialing.” Their mother snapped her fingers in Zola’s direction. “Just try once an hour. Don’t waste your battery.”

Anna seemed like she was going to say something about the batteries—maybe remind them of her charging station—but chose not to.

“Let’s not get all worked up,” their father said. “These things will come back in time, but trying to rush them won’t make it happen any faster.” He gathered plates from the table and stacked them together. Daniel watched his mom as she studied his actions. She handed her own empty plate to him, her eyes darting from him to Carlton.

“Thanks for cooking,” their father said, nodding to Carlton. “I’m going to get out of ya’lls hair for a while. Tomorrow, though, I’m gonna want to borrow that saw.” He turned and looked to Edward, who seemed to have bonded with their father during the day’s ride. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to head over and get that rope we talked about, so I’ll have it in the morning.”

“What’re you gonna do in the morning?” Daniel asked.