needed this contact, however routine it might turn out to be. They’d felt so isolated, cut off from all news, from friends and family who weren’t close by. It was a subtle, ongoing strain that they had never expected to face and hadn’t been able to prepare for.
The station signed on. “This is Robert Keller, reporting.” Sela recognized the name. The tone of the announcer’s voice was telling; he was a man who normally greeted his audience with humor and a devil-may-care attitude, but was somber as he reported. “The governor has sent couriers to report that the Tennessee National Guard is working to keep the capitol in Nashville secure, but everyone is hampered by fuel shortages. There are unconfirmed rumors of widespread looting and several shooting deaths. Emergency services are unable to respond, so everyone is urged to conserve their resources.” His voice shook a little, then he cleared his throat and recovered. “Supermarkets here are empty, but Knoxville residents are so far weathering this crisis. Continue to check on your neighbors, and be careful out there. The next update will be at nine a.m. tomorrow.”
Barb said, “I wonder if all the college kids were able to get home.”
“I hope so,” Mike replied. “I don’t imagine the town could handle the care and feeding of twenty-eight thousand kids.”
The brief news, while not exactly sunshine and roses or really even that informative, at least hadn’t been as catastrophic as it could have been. Just hearing the broadcast was comforting. Some technology still worked, at least for now.
The next morning, the crowd in Carol’s yard was even bigger. Sela had walked over just after dawn, and she was startled when she looked out the window. “You gotta get a bigger yard,” she said.
Carol looked out, too, her eyes widening at the milling crowd. “Lord have mercy. I guess we need to take this somewhere more wide-open.”
The time was approaching, so she took the radio out and set it on the card table. They had cranked and cranked and cranked, to give the battery a good charge. Maybe today’s broadcast would be longer, have more information.
“This is Robert Keller, reporting. There was widespread looting in several Knoxville neighborhoods last night, with reports of people coming into the city from other locales, following the interstate highways. The KPD has performed heroic work during the night, quelling the looting, and for now all is quiet. The hospitals are not accepting critical cases, as dwindling supplies have to be carefully managed so as to provide care for the maximum number of residents.” He gave the locations of the shelters that were open, as well as the times and places for food and water distribution, along with the warning that “Armed police officers will be ensuring order.” He signed off with a reminder of the next update.
In the small silence that fell afterward, someone said, “I’m glad we live here.” While Wears Valley had come together, the larger city, if not already in a panic, was getting there fast. And it was fewer than thirty miles away.
Sela suspected there were similar reports being made around the country, in places that were lucky enough to have access to radio. Many, more rural areas, wouldn’t have even that.
So far they were doing okay. The last few days had been stressful and strange, but not difficult. There was no television, no phone calls, no access to the world outside this valley. There was no reason to go to her store, so she didn’t bother. At this point, anyway, there was plenty of food to go around.
The handful of gardens along the street were now being tended by more than one hand, as neighbors pitched in to help, hoping to extend the life of the vegetables. The one greenhouse in the neighborhood was being converted from . . . well, whatever, to vegetables they’d need in the coming months. They were working, and working together. Things had been peaceful, and the weather was still good. But during the coming months . . . who knew?
It was frightening to realize that the grid would be down that long, but Sela had no reason to think otherwise. The world had gone dark, and Ben had said getting the grid back up would take months, if not years. They had to face that, and prepare as best they could.
Barb had tears in her eyes, and so did Olivia. They weren’t caused by sadness, Sela suspected, but were tears of absolute fear. Knoxville wasn’t