distance, should, to save gas. At the very least people should share rides. Once we’re there, we’ll make a plan for the days to come.”
Days, she said, not weeks and months. She didn’t want to bring the panic back to those who had managed to dismiss it.
“We can elect a community leader at that time.” So far as she knew, they didn’t even have a county deputy who lived in the area, but she might be wrong about that. There was a forest ranger, she thought, but she’d heard he retired.
One thing for sure: her little neighborhood might have nominated her to get things organized, but she certainly wouldn’t be voted on to lead the entire community.
One of the men who’d been talking about upping security spoke up. “Who’s going to contact that Jernigan guy up on Cove Mountain? He’s retired military, right? That’s what I heard. He’d be an asset.”
If they only knew. Sela and Carol both kept their mouths shut. No one needed to know Jernigan had given them a heads-up about the solar storm several hours before everyone else found out.
A few people nodded their heads in agreement and one asked if anyone had his phone number.
It appeared no one did, no surprise there, and eventually Mike Kilgore offered to drive up in the morning and ask Jernigan personally to join in on the community plans. The men would no doubt prefer someone like Ben to be in charge, and to be honest so would she. But she didn’t think he’d agree. In fact, she was almost certain he wouldn’t.
As twilight deepened, a few people still stood around talking but most began wandering back to their homes, to prepare, to wait, to call loved ones they might not be able to talk to for a while. Maybe some would cry, or try to convince themselves that despite the warnings nothing would happen. Different people coped in different ways.
Sela was exhausted. She murmured a vague excuse about going in to check on something, though there was nothing to check, and went back into Carol’s house. It had been a hellish—and hellishly long—day, and she just wanted to go home. Home wasn’t possible just yet, unless she was willing to leave Carol and Barb to do all the work of canning their produce, which she wasn’t.
She began pulling stuff out of the refrigerator to throw together a meal. Perishables first, she thought. That meant the luncheon ham needed to be eaten. Okay, ham and cheese sandwiches it was.
Olivia was teary-eyed when she came inside, just ahead of Carol and Barb. “I want to talk to Josh,” she said, “but he isn’t answering his phone.”
“He’s probably on duty,” Sela said practically. “Every active-duty soldier will be preparing. Send him a text, tell him to call whenever he can regardless of the time.” Carol had to be as worried about her grandson as Olivia was, but she was holding it together for her granddaughter’s sake.
As far as that went, Sela wanted to know that her cousin was safe, too, and maybe find out some preparations the military was making. And after that she wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep, though she doubted sleep was coming anytime soon.
First, though, there was work—a lot of work. They had to do what they could while the power was still on.
Chapter Four
Mike Kilgore was a man who kept his word; he set out the next morning for Ben Jernigan’s house, high on Cove Mountain. He didn’t look forward to his task, because from what he’d heard Jernigan wasn’t the friendliest man in the valley, but Mike had been in the military himself and he figured that might give them some common ground . . . or not. He wouldn’t know until he got there.
The morning news was not good, and already cell service was spotty, satellites were going out . . . it looked as if they’d better prepare for the worst. Mike didn’t like thinking about that. He’d seen what he’d thought was the worst, in Desert Storm a quarter of a century before, then found out what was going on now was worse than his worst—and when the power grid went down, what happened in the cities would rank right up there. He felt sick to his stomach thinking about it, so instead he focused on what was right around him, on his family and neighbors, on Wears Valley. Think small; he could handle that. But the valley needed help,