Unknown (Unknown Series Book 1) (15 page)

Mom picked up a can of green beans and looked at the label.

“They’re all within date,” Grandpa said. “I keep them in order of date and chuck ’em when they get bad.”

“Pop?” Dad said, still with that quirky smile on his face. “How long have you been doing this?”

“You never can be too careful,” Grandpa said in a gruff tone, as if he didn’t want to answer any questions or hear any teasing. “I knew after Fatal Friday it was only a matter of time.”

This was extreme. Part of me felt like Grandpa was batshit crazy, but was he?

“This was very . . . smart of you,” Mom said, seeming to choose her words carefully. “This is exactly what we’ll need to get us through until things are back to normal. Thank you, Papá Tate.”

He grunted. “Things ain’t getting back to normal anytime soon, sweetheart. Bet on it.”

Mom frowned and I swallowed hard.

“And don’t go telling anyone about this,” Grandpa continued, pointing at his piles of goods. “Otherwise they’ll all be over here trying to take our rations. I know how you ladies have soft hearts, but this is for
our
family. Do you all understand that? The Fites are the only ones we share with, and that’s because I know damn well they’ll share their fresh crops with us too.”

An awkward lull passed in which he stared around at all of us until we nodded our understanding.

“One more thing,” Grandpa said. He limped his way over to the tall bookcase and proceeded to grab it on both sides and pull. To my shock, it moved forward as if on wheels, and he pulled it to the side, opening it like a hidden door to reveal a wooden panel in the back and within the wall behind it. The doors had two padlocks. He must have constructed this entire convoluted thing himself. We all gawked as he unlocked it and swung both doors wide.

Holy freaking zombie apocalypse
. There were the guns.

Dad whistled low and stepped forward. Mom gave Abuela and I a frightened glance. She’d never been comfortable with guns. Some of these were straight out of Rambo. There were handguns, rifles, and shotguns—manual, semi, and automatic. A variety of at least twenty-five. Along with axes and boxes of ammo lined along the bottom.

“You don’t whisper a word about these,” Grandpa said in a low tone. He shook a finger. Abuela’s eyebrows were practically grazing the ceiling. “The government will try to take ’em.”

Oh, Grandpa. He’d lost his mind. But once again, when he nailed us all with that dire look, we nodded our promise not to tell. He closed the doors and clicked the padlocks shut. I almost burst out laughing at the look on Dad’s face, as if caught between amusement, worry, and absolute admiration.

“Now.” Grandpa clasped his hands. “Let’s go make some coffee.”

Amen.

French press joe with a scoop of sugar was rich, dark, smooth, and every other wonderful adjective that might describe perfect coffee. I was sipping with my eyes closed, letting it sooth my soul when Dad said, “I always thought Tater would be the first to run off and elope.”

My coffee became bitter and turned my stomach.

Mom and Abuela both glanced at me. Dad took another big drink, oblivious. I looked at my cup, swirling the dredges.

“That’s a soldier for you,” Grandpa said. “Most are married before they even turn nineteen.”

“Jacob no marry,” Abuela said, pronouncing his name like
Jyae-cobe
. “No yet. He like mas chicas too much.” Her
much
sounded like
mush
.

I snorted. Gross. Mom rolled her eyes, and Dad and Grandpa both chuckled.

“He’s better off,” Dad said. “Too many of these young guys end up cheating, or being cheated on while they’re away, then getting divorced.” We all got quiet. Dad’s first wife cheated in their first year of marriage when he was gone for eight months. They didn’t have any kids together, thank goodness. He’d drilled it into mine and Tater’s heads not to be quick to marry, as it was his most regrettable, rash decision in life.

“What am I gonna do about a car?” I asked, wanting to change the subject.

“You can take mine,” Mom said. “I think I’ll stay here with Abuela. I’m sure there’s nothing left at the store now anyway. And we seem to have enough.” She smiled at Grandpa.

I really wanted to shower, but I knew there was limited water available to houses during outages, and I was afraid of contamination. I really hoped the town would be able to get us up and running again soon.

I brushed my hair and put on work clothes. When I came out, Rylen was standing there talking to Dad in camo cargo pants with his boots planted a foot apart and his arms crossed over his fitted white T-shirt. That same irrational anger from last night rose inside me at his effortless hotness. Now that he was married, he should have the decency to grow a beer gut or something.

I jolted at the feel of someone’s eyes on me, and found Livia sitting at the table, watching me watch her husband. She looked so small sitting there in a worn gray dress and black leggings, her tiny frame sitting up straight in the chair. I wanted to just ignore her—pretend she didn’t exist—but ugh. I walked over and pushed my hair behind my ears.

“Would you like coffee?” I asked, nodding toward the French press that still had a little left.

“No, no,” she said, shaking a hand.

“She likes tea,” Rylen said from behind us. Dad kept on talking, and I realized Ry had probably been on his way in to help Livia when he got stopped by Dad’s motormouth.

“Rylen, no,” Livia said. Again with the Ry-LEN. I wondered if they’d had sex last night.

Oh, God.

“I can make it,” I told her, bustling over to the pot with the boiled water. It had cooled, so I lit the burner again. Propane fumes stung my nose. My stomach was a knot, coffee halfway back up my esophagus. A wave of dizziness hit me as I turned toward the cabinet and reached up for a mug and the box of teas. I closed my eyes and leaned against the counter.

“Please.” Her voice was close. Livia had moved to me and taken the mug and box. I gave her a single nod and bit my lip as she turned away to make her own tea. My eyes burned. Two seconds later Rylen was at my side, scrutinizing me with those gray eyes.

“You okay?” I knew he was talking about last night, too, not just my current state.

“I’m fine. Just over-tired,” I assured him. Then I walked in an arc past him, careful not to touch him. Dad reached out and put an arm around me, pulling me in for a hug. I was so tense.

“I have to get to the hospital,” I said.

He kissed my head. “Don’t burn yourself out, Amber. If you need to take a day off, do it. You’re no help to anyone if you’re falling down.”

“Okay,” I said to appease him.

I finished getting ready and grabbed Mom’s keys from the hook when a knock sounded on the door. I followed Dad, who called through without opening it, “Who’s there?”

“Nevada State DRI,” came a man’s voice. “Here for the mandatory census.”

“The Disaster Relief Initiative,” I whispered.

Dad raised his eyebrows. “That was fast.”

He slid the deadbolt and opened the door. A gorgeous woman with flowing brown hair and new highlights stood there with an equally handsome man, both with glowing olive skin, both in suits. They looked like flight attendants. Did the senator hire DRI people from the Vegas modeling agencies or something? Geez.

“Please, come in,” Dad told them. I moved aside and they walked in, smiling at the room. Dad called for Mom. Grandpa slid in the door behind them, staring at their backs with distrust. I really hoped he didn’t embarrass us by spouting any conspiracy theory nonsense to them.

Rylen and Livia walked in from the kitchen, her blowing steam off her cup of tea. The room was full and I focused on the two government workers.

“Can you please tell us how many people reside here?” the woman asked.

We went through the entire family, genders, ages, races—they were very particular, needing to know precise percentages for each race—a precise census. We had to explain that Rylen and Livia were our neighbors, newlyweds. They became especially interested to learn that Rylen was Air Force based there in Nevada.

“When was the last time you were at Nellis?” the woman asked.

“Actually, never, ma’am. I’m supposed to report in five days, but I think I’ll go today to see if—”

“You can wait,” the woman said. Rylen appeared taken aback, so she smiled with assurance. “The base is in chaos. I suggest taking your remaining days and allowing them to reestablish communications before you bother reporting.”

“Oh,” he said, his brow still furrowed.

The woman forged ahead with their questions. My head spun until it sounded like they were finally wrapping up.

“Your water here is still testing fine, but I would boil before consuming for now,” said the man. “They’re working rapidly on vaccines to some of the strands, and antitoxins, so if your area is affected, DRI personnel will be set up to take care of the community.”

“Wait,” I said, running my hands over my arms. “Would it be safe to shower in?”

The man shook his head. “We recommend bathing in boiled water, as well. But as I’m sure you know, there is only a limited amount of water available because the pumps are run by electricity, so once it runs out, there is no more.”

“I’m sure electricity will be back on before that’s an issue though, right?” Dad asked.

The woman gave him a pleasant smile. “Let’s all hope. We’re doing our best.” The woman casually added in a chipper voice, “And do you have any weapons on the premises?”

They couldn’t see Grandpa’s saucer-sized eyes, but I could, and I had to look away from him for fear of bursting into laughter.

“You’re cataloging weapons?” Dad asked. His face appeared casual, but I could tell from the stance he took and the way he crossed his arms that he didn’t approve.

The woman looked to the man, who gave a tight grin. “As you know, sir, these are trying times. The enemy could be anywhere. To be completely transparent, we need to know who’s able to defend themselves, if necessary, who’s willing and able to help, and who’s not.”

Mom cocked her head. “So you
want
people to be armed?”

“The right people, yes,” he said.

Dad nodded imperceptibly, and eventually uncrossed his arms and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I have a conceal and carry permit. I’ve got a Glock and a hunting rifle. Also a bb gun, if that counts.”

“Of course it counts.” The woman was so serious. I couldn’t help myself.

“Yeah, Dad, you can shoot your eye out.”

Rylen gave a cough-snort and wiped his nose. Nobody else in the room laughed.

The man stared at Dad. “And where do you keep your guns, sir?”

“In my home,” Dad said. The smartass.

“Are they secured?”

“Of course.”

“And do you bring your Glock with you when you leave the house?”

“I do.” Dad’s face had gotten tighter and tighter with the questioning. Grandpa looked like a frozen statue of terror, and Mom and Abuela had also become awkwardly stiff.

“Any other firearms besides the three you listed?” the man asked.

I had to hand it to our family. We played that moment very cool and respected Grandpa’s demand to keep his secret. We all shook our heads casually, though my family’s minds were probably just as full of Grandpa’s insane gun collection as mine. And it was bizarre, because Dad was the most honest, upstanding citizen I’d ever known. He’d once brought me back into a store to pay for a fifty-cent piece of candy he didn’t realize I’d taken until we were in the car. And then he’d counseled me about right and wrong the entire ride home. If anyone followed the laws, it was Dad.

So why didn’t he, or any of us, tell about the other guns? Was it because Grandpa would most definitely lose his shit and be carted away? Or because we were embarrassed about the extremist supplies on our property? Or maybe because all of my family felt the same amount of strange discomfort around these DRI people and just wanted them to leave? I knew they were only doing their job, but some of it felt invasive. Whatever the reason, we didn’t tell. And they finally left.

Grandpa collapsed into a chair, gripping the arms and breathing hard. “It’s happening.”

“Nothing is happening, Pop,” Dad said, giving his shoulder a pat and squeeze. But even Dad’s eyes looked troubled.

I looked at Rylen, who also appeared uneasy as he looked back at me.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Mom said. “Government stuff is always tedious and detailed.”

I let out a breath. I wanted to get away from Rylen’s warm eyes, and go where I felt needed. “I’m going to the hospital, but they’ll probably send me out on runs. If you need me, tell someone at the hospital and they’ll get a message to me.”

I gave Mom a hug and she told me to be careful, then I was off.