Dark Days: The Long Road Home, a post apocalyptic novel by L M May Page B

wide with fear as Anne tried to slap the man's hand away.
    “Like I said, it's my grandson. And God help you if you wake him.” Anne glowered at Wally. “And you, young man, should be ashamed of yourself. Scaring young Becky here like that.”
    Becky let loose with the full force of her lungs, as if in agreement, and Wally took a step back. “Geez, you sound just like my mom,” he said, quickly adding, “God bless her soul.” He crossed his chest in a ritual born of habit.
    “Well if she could see you now she'd be ashamed of your behavior,” Anne said tartly.
    Gemma couldn't breathe as the wiry little man looked up at her knowingly as he lifted the blanket. She opened her mouth. She had no idea what to say. Horror filled her. This water could mean the difference between life and death, and from what they'd overheard it sounded like the stores had already been well and truly raided.
    “Settle down, love,” the man hissed under his breath. Throwing a quick wink at Megan, he turned back to Wally. “Let's go – it's just a kid, like she said. And one screamin' brat's more than enough.”
    “You got that right.” Wally glared at Megan. “Can't you shut that bloody kid up?”

    *   *   *

    Christopher's fists were so tightly clenched he could feel his fingernails digging into his palms as Wally and his men returned to the car, taking the cartons of drink with them.
    He didn't know what he would have done if they'd tried to take the water too. Between them, they might have been able to take them on. Especially considering they'd been drinking. But there was always the risk they were armed.
    Christopher hesitated. What about his bike?
    Wally turned, coming back for seconds.
    Christopher left the bike where it was. They moved quickly down the street, none of them daring to look back when they heard the wrenching, grinding sound of metal as the men tried to free the station wagon.
    He was angry about the loss of supplies. But without the bike, getting home was going to be a lot harder, and Gemma was anxious to get back to CJ.
    His gut clenched at the reminder that he was the reason Gemma had been in the city in the first place. He couldn't help but feel responsible for seeing her safely home.
    He had no idea why Caroline claimed the boy was his. Caroline had always been a little on the flighty side, but he found it hard to imagine any reason why she'd say CJ was his – she didn't strike him as the gold-digger type.
    Maybe she'd just been clutching at straws, wanting to provide security for her boy when she realized she was dying. Maybe she really did think CJ was his; timing wise, the night of the school dinner probably fit with the boys age.
    Christopher was ashamed of the fact he hardly remembered the night in question. His thoughts had been on Gemma and the man he'd seen her with, the reminder of how much he'd screwed everything up driving him to the bar.
    Caroline had shown up when he was well and truly plastered.
    When Christopher heard Melinda had twins with her new husband, it cut deeper than he thought it would, and he while he was happy for her, it was yet another reminder of the one thing he couldn't have. Instead he'd thrown himself into his career, earning ridiculous amounts of money when what he wanted was the one thing he couldn't buy; his own flesh and blood.
    When they reached the corner and turned, Christopher's shoulders finally relaxed.
    “I thought none of the cars were working,” Megan said.
    “Only the ones with electronics – some of the older ones will still work,” Gemma said.
    “Until they run out of gas,” Donavon said dryly.
    “Oh – well – I still don't really get it. Why everything just stopped working,” Megan said.
    “An EMP is a powerful blast of electromagnetic energy,” Gemma told Megan. “Think of it like lightning, but invisible and a whole lot bigger and faster.”
    Now that Christopher could understand. When he was a kid lightning had struck a power line near his