The sun is still low in the sky when we pull into the Starbucks parking lot, the pre-arranged meeting spot for the Weldon Preparedness Group members heading to Endurance Ranch. As Dad parks the Explorer, I spot red-haired Nick a few spaces down, standing in front of a grungy Jeep Wrangler and sipping from a Starbucks cup, a large German shepherd at his side. The dog starts barking the moment we step out of the car, which might worry me if I didn’t already feel like I swallowed a box of thumbtacks.
I carefully maneuver April away from the dog and into the Starbucks, more to get away for a moment than anything else. Food is the last thing my churning stomach wants.
When we get back outside, Dad, Nick, and his dog are standing in front of an ancient-looking Winnebago that’s taking up at least three spots at the back of the lot. As April and I head toward them, blueberry muffins and steaming coffees in our hands, the door of the Winnebago swings open and Dane’s dark-haired mom steps out, followed by his blond one. I expect Dane to appear next, but then I see him a few spots away, climbing out of a small red Volkswagen.
Right. Dad mentioned that Dane’s parents were driving to the ranch in their RV while Dane took the car. Looking at that Winnebago, though, I’ll be surprised if it makes it a hundred miles, let alone two thousand.
“Thanks, hon,” my father says when I hand him his coffee, strong and black, the way he likes it.
“Who else are we waiting on?” Dane’s blond mom—Charlene—asks the group.
Nick checks his watch. “Just James and Kendra. Gail and Stuart are flying out in a few weeks.”
“Flying,” Dad repeats. “They don’t want to have their vehicle out there with them?”
Nick shakes his head. “They said they’re selling everything and starting over fresh.”
Even though the sun is now beating down on us, I shiver. Gail and Stuart are the old white-haired couple, I think. I can’t imagine wanting to spend your retirement hundreds of miles away from home, stuck in an unfamiliar town while you wait for the world to crumble.
Quietly, I step a few feet away from the group and take out my phone. I know Claire’s probably not awake yet, but I send her a text anyway.
To my surprise, a response arrives less than a minute later.
☹️
💕
I pocket my phone and look over at April, who’s standing next to Dad and devouring her blueberry muffin with single-minded focus. Remembering the latte in my hand, I take my first sip, realizing immediately that I shouldn’t have asked for that extra squirt of syrup. The sharp sweetness is enough to make my eyes water, but I need to put something in my stomach before we leave, and the caffeine jolt is welcome after my night of broken sleep.
Is that hazelnut?”
I turn around to see Dane, sitting on the hood of the Volkswagen a few feet away. “What?”
He motions toward my Starbucks cup with his hand, and I notice he’s wearing the hemp bracelet again. “I can smell it from here. Hazelnut’s my favorite.”
My gaze drops to my cup for a moment before drifting back up to him. In his light gray shorts, faded blue T-shirt, and dark sunglasses, he looks like he’s ready to spend the day lounging on the beach instead of driving on the highway.
“Yeah, it’s hazelnut,” I say, moving a few steps closer. “Are you trying to tell me that you want a sip? You still have time to get one of your own, you know.”
Dane’s eyebrows shoot up over the edge of his sunglasses, and I realize my words came out a little snootier than I’d intended.
“Nah.” He folds his tanned arms across his chest. “My parents would kill me if they saw me with a Starbucks cup in my hand. Most of their coffee isn’t fair trade, and big chains like them put the little mom-and-pop places out of business.”
I glance down at my latte with a tinge of guilt. “Oh.”
“I still go, though,” he says, dropping his voice so only I can hear. “When they’re not around. I love the white chocolate mocha Frappuccinos.”
Something inside me perks up at this. Sneaking forbidden Frappuccinos is such a simple act of rebellion, but it’s enough to show me that maybe he doesn’t agree with his parents about everything.
“Me too,” I say, taking a big gulp of my latte.
James and Kendra—the young couple with the baby—pull up in a shiny new SUV. Nick’s dog starts barking again, inciting a startled cry from baby Micah, who’d been dozing in his mom’s arms. Nick tries to calm the dog while James and Kendra soothe the baby, and the complete chaos is like a preview of how the next few days are probably going to go. My head throbs, either from the noise or the straight shot of sugar I just injected into my bloodstream.
“Okay, guys,” Nick calls out once everyone is finally settled. “Let’s go over the itinerary again.”
I meet Dane’s eyes, my heart suddenly lodged in my throat. This is it. Everyone is here and accounted for. Nothing left to stop us from leaving. Dane doesn’t seem to notice my panic. He lets out a jaw-cracking yawn and slowly pushes off the car. How can he be so calm? He’s leaving his home and moving to a place he’s never been, filled with people he doesn’t know. I’m only leaving for a couple of weeks and I’m terrified.
We join the rest of the group gathered around Nick. Clearly, he stepped into Dennis’s shoes after he left.
“As we discussed at our last meeting….” Nick pauses and reaches into the pocket of his cargo shorts, bringing out a folded sheet of paper. He smooths it open. “We’re aiming to do five hundred miles a day, so that should get us to the ranch by Monday night. If anyone wants to push through to get there a day earlier, they’re welcome to.” He squints down at the sheet. “Tonight’s rest stop is the Hearthstone Motel in Briarwood. Everyone has their room booked, right?”
Dad, James, and Kendra all nod, while Charlene pats the side of the Winnebago. “We’ll probably stay at a nearby campground with old Winnie here,” she says.
“Unless the weather is exceptionally hot or rainy,” Kiana adds. “In that case, we’ll stay at the motel. There’s no air conditioning in this thing and the roof leaks when it rains.”
Charlene smiles and rolls her eyes. “Out of the two of us, it’s the native Hawaiian who’s bothered by heat and water. Go figure.”
Kiana elbows her playfully. “Shush.”
Nick puts the itinerary back in his pocket and reaches into the Jeep, bringing out a map. He unfolds it and spreads it out on the hood. “I figure we’ll just stick to the highway. That’ll get us to Briarwood by early evening.”
Dad takes a sip of coffee, wincing at either the temperature or the taste. “You know,” he says, leaning over the open map, “if we get off on Exit 27 and take Springer Road instead of the highway, we could be there an hour earlier. That route shaves off seventy miles.” He runs a finger along the map to illustrate.
Nick frowns. “I don’t think so, Gabe. The highway keeps it simple.”
“Well, there’s a road toll here.” Dad taps at a spot. “We could avoid that if we go Springer Road. I know the route; I’ve taken it before. It’s definitely quicker.”
“I know the route too,” Nick says, his fair skin reddening. “I was a long-haul truck driver for twelve years, remember?”
Dad steps back and takes another drink. He doesn’t wince this time.
“How about this,” Charlene pipes up. “Those who want to go the highway can go the highway, and those who want to go the alternate route can go the alternate route. Problem solved.”
“I think we should try to stick together,” Kendra says, jiggling baby Micah. “What if someone has an accident or…vehicle trouble?” She glances at the Winnebago as she utters this last part, and Kiana shoots her a grin.
“Exactly,” Nick says, refolding the map.
“So let’s all take Springer Road,” James put in. “I like the idea of cutting off an hour and dodging the toll.”
Everyone murmurs their agreement. Everyone except for Nick, whose face gets even redder. I get the feeling he doesn’t like being challenged.
“Fine,” he says tonelessly. “We’ll do it Gabe’s way.”
I peek over at my father to gauge his reaction, but he doesn’t look smug or triumphant. That’s not his way.
“Anyway, moving on.” Nick clears his throat and straightens his ratty baseball cap. “We’ll keep in touch over text, and if something comes up, car trouble or whatever, let someone know. And that’s basically it.” He tosses the map back in the Jeep. “Safe travels, everyone.”
There’s a general hum of excitement as the group disperses. April darts ahead of me, heading toward the car, and I quickly catch up and take her hand. Dane walks past and grins at me. “See you there,” he says.
Flustered by both his smile and his nonchalant attitude, I turn away without responding. Dad’s already sitting in the driver’s seat, the radio tuned in to the nineties rock station he likes.
“Ready?” he asks once we’re both buckled in.
“Ready!” April shouts from the back.
Again, I don’t say a word as the Explorer starts zipping steadily along the highway. Everyone else seems eager to get started on this exciting new adventure, while I’m a prickly ball of doubt and anxiety. I wish I could just brush myself off and keep going, like my mother always taught me, but there’s no getting rid of this feeling. The further we get from home, the tighter it grips.