She raised her hands to cover her face. “I won't tell!” she squealed. “I didn't see anything! Please …”
His eyes were piercing, death staring her down. His finger curled over the trigger.
Lightning exploded again, hitting a nearby tree. Thunder cracked like an axe … or another gunshot. From the edge of her vision, she saw movement. A man with a chest-long beard and a dirty T-shirt came out of nowhere and tackled the killer, knocking off his aim.
Beth scrambled to her feet and grabbed her bike. She heard the grunts of the two men wrestling for the gun as she leaped onto the seat. Standing on the pedals to move the weight of the trailer, she felt the bike's tires slide in the mud.
As she reached the street, the gun went off again. She looked back. Her rescuer had fallen. The killer leaped over his body, aimed his gun at her.
Her bike slid again, and she fell. He fired again, missing.
She righted the bike and pumped the wheels, putting distance between them before he pulled the trigger again.
“You say a word, and I'll kill you and your family,
Beth
,” he shouted after her. “I know where you live!”
Shivering, she realized her name was on the back of her jersey. Why had she worn it? Why had she even come out today? He must know her family—her father and mother, her sister or brothers. Flying for her life, Beth rode toward home, praying the man wasn't following her.
two
K
AY
B
RANNING HAD MADE UP HER MIND
—
IF SHE HAD
to fight for her cash, she could do it. She'd waited a year to get her hands on her family's assets, and even though the banks were only authorized to give out two percent of each account's holdings each month, that would still net them nine hundred dollars today. And given the collapsed economy—and the rock-bottom prices—nine hundred dollars was almost a fortune.
Thieves were expected to come out of the woodwork today, but no guns were allowed inside the ropes surrounding the bank's property, except those held by law enforcement officers. Before Kay and the rest of the bank's customers could even get into the line that snaked Disney-style through the parking lot and out into the street, they went through a pat-down for concealed weapons. Thankfully, Kay's husband, Doug, was an armed deputy standing guard over the crowd, so at least the Brannings had a shot at getting their money home safely. Others had family members waiting outside the perimeter, armed and ready to escort them home.
The doors had opened two hours before, though Kay had stood in line for three hours before that. Already, thirteen people had been arrested trying to smuggle weapons past the ropes. Thirteen bank robberies averted. So far, no bullets had been fired, but the day was young.
Kay stood under her umbrella watching the door, waiting for those in the bank to clear out so another group could go in. Hank Huckabee, her neighbor, came out smiling like a lottery winner.
Deni, Kay's twenty-three-year-old daughter, stood near the sheriff's van, juggling her umbrella and her notepad as she interviewed a man who'd just given the teller a bloody lip. He sat in handcuffs with the other lawbreakers in the van, whining out his story as if Deni were the judge. Deni was too gutsy for her own good, but Kay knew better than to interfere in her daughter's work. Deni would kill her if she pulled mother rank. Instead, she caught Doug's eye, mouthed, “Your daughter,” and gestured toward the van.
Picking up on her concerns, Doug stepped closer to the van. But Mark Green—Deni's boyfriend who was also a volunteer deputy—had beaten him there. He stood with his department-issued rifle ready, not intruding on the interview, but making sure that Deni was safe.
Doug winked at Kay, and she nodded that Deni was fine. They could count on Mark to keep her safe.
“You are
not
getting this money!”
Kay turned at the sound of the anxious voice. Her next-door neighbor Amber Rowe stood two rows away in the roped-off maze, shoving her estranged husband away.
“You can't have it, Mike! It's not fair. I have three children to support!”
“It's my money. I earned it.”
Kay might have known the jerk would show up now, after abandoning Amber and their three babies a year ago, right before the outage. He'd moved in with another woman, and since then had done nothing to help his own family survive.
“I earned it too—raising your babies!” Raging indignation tightened her wet face. “You don't have any paperwork! They won't let you have it.”
“I'm your husband,” he bit out. “
Your
paperwork is my paperwork.”
“I'll fight you for it! So help me—”
Kay caught Doug's attention again, and gestured toward Amber.
Kay could tell from Doug's expression that he took Amber's situation as personally as Kay did. Kay and Doug had spent the last year helping the abandoned family survive. They'd both considered hunting the deadbeat down and dragging him back home. But they'd figured Amber had enough children to care for.
Doug crossed the parking lot to the man who had once been their neighbor. Taking his shoulder, he said, “Hey, pal. Long time no see.”
“Don't start with me, Doug,” Mike said, shaking him off. “I just want my money.”
Doug nodded. “So how do you want to split it?”
Mike's lips stretched tight over his teeth. “I'm not splitting it. I made every penny of it. She hasn't earned a cent.”
“Sounds fair,” Doug said. “By the way, you're up to date on your child support, right?”
Mike stiffened. “I don't have to pay child support. We're not divorced.”
“Does your girlfriend know that?”
Mike bristled and looked around at the disapproving stares. “Why don't you stay out of this? It's between me and my wife.”
“Why?” Doug asked, getting nose to nose with him. “I'll tell you why, my friend. Because Kay and I have been helping your wife take care of your children for a year now. You remember your children, don't you? Three toddlers with a dad who abandoned them during the worst crisis in history?”
Mike's teeth came together. “She threw me out
before
the outage,” he said, as if that made it better.
Amber's jaw dropped. “
What
? I did not!”
Mike's declaration ignited something in Kay's heart. She knew the real story. Amber would have forgiven him and taken him back at any point along the way. Kay had even kept the children twice while Amber suffered the indignity of going to Mike's girlfriend's house and begging him to come back. He'd refused.
And now he was here, trying to take the money Amber needed to feed her children. No, that wasn't going to happen.
Amber was crying now. “I
never
threw you out. I needed you despite what you'd done, and everybody knows that.”
Doug took Mike's arm. “Come on, pal. Let her get the money, and you two can negotiate later.”
Mike's teeth came together. “Don't make me hurt you, Doug.”
“I'm sorry,” Doug said. “Did I hear you right? Are you threatening a law enforcement officer?”
The line moved up. Kay was almost to the front—the next group to go in. If she could just get Amber into the bank to withdraw her money before Mike could get to the window … Ninety-eight percent of their account would still be there to fight over in court. But almost a hundred people stood in line between Kay's place and Amber's.
Kay called back, “Amber, come up here.”
Amber looked at her. “I can't, Kay. I'll lose my spot.”
“You're taking
my
spot.”
Rain pounded harder, a stark percussion to the day's events. “I can't do that.”
“Amber, get up here now!” Kay cried.
Amber scurried out of the line, her umbrella clashing with those around her, and ducked under the ropes.
The man who'd waited hours behind Kay protested. “She can't bust in front of the rest of us!” he shouted. “Lady,” he said to Amber, “I feel for you, having a dog like that for a husband, but nobody is cutting in front of me. I've been here for five hours!”
“It's okay,” Kay said. “I'll go take her spot. We're trading.”
Mike stepped over the ropes, pushing between people to follow Amber. “I'm coming with her!”
Doug blocked him. “My wife only gave up one spot. You heard the man. No one else in front of him.”
Mike shoved him. “You're crazy!”
“Oh, I wish you hadn't done that.” Doug pulled his handcuffs off his belt. “You've just assaulted a sheriff's deputy.” He snapped a cuff on Mike's wrist. Mike jerked his arm back, and Doug twisted him around. “And there you go, resisting arrest.”
The people in line around them applauded as Doug dragged Mike to the sheriff's van, where several others in handcuffs waited.
But Amber was still upset. “How could he
do
that? Doesn't he care anything about his children?”
Kay put her arm around her and pulled her hood up to keep the rain off. Amber was young enough to be one of Kay's children, and she'd done a valiant job trying to keep food on the table. She'd worked alongside the rest of them, planting food in their front lawns, raising rabbits and chickens, and chopping wood.
“Don't worry about him. Doug will stall him until you get the cash, and then you can ride home with us. Doug will escort us. Nobody's taking your money.”
Amber's distressed gaze followed Mike to the van. “I don't want him in jail, though. He's my children's father.”
“Hush now,” Kay whispered, forcing Amber to look at her. “They probably won't hold him long.”
“Maybe I
should
give him some of it. I don't want him to hate me.”
It was clear that Amber still loved her husband. The pain of his abandonment had run deep, and she hadn't gotten over it. “You can decide that later,” Kay said. “Or let a judge decide. But right now, you need to go in there and get your money.”
“But now
you'll
have to wait hours longer to get your own money. It's not fair.”
Impatience sharpened Kay's tone. “Mike getting your money—that's what wouldn't be fair. I can handle a little inconvenience.”
As soon as Kay was sure she'd calmed Amber down, she followed the line back to take Amber's place. Her gaze scanned the hundreds of people in a line that snaked through the parking lot and across the four lanes of highway in front of the bank. She hoped she got her money before dark.
Lightning flashed and thunder cracked a few seconds later. Of all days to have to stand in the elements.
She wished she'd told the kids not to deliver their papers today. She'd rather they were hunkered inside, out of the storm.
The line moved forward, and she watched as the guards at the door let the next twelve in. Amber got inside. Kay glanced at the sheriff's van. Mike was still trying to talk his way out of the handcuffs.
three
“Y
OU ARE SO LYING, DUDE
. A
ND IT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY
.” Jeff Branning sat backward in a straight-back chair, arms folded on the back.
His friend Zach had been lying on Jeff's bed, arms crossed behind his head. But now he sat up. “I'm not lying, man. My dad would know.”
Jeff got up, shaking his head skeptically. “So he told you the Pulses are getting weaker? Are you sure he wasn't yanking your chain?”
“He was dead serious.”
“But how did he know?”
“He heard it from the government, where else?”
Jeff went to the window and looked out into the rain. Zach's dad
was
an electrical engineer. He would know about the strength of electromagnetic pulses.
He turned back to Zach. His friend still looked weak from his injury a few months ago—but he wasn't crazy. “So does he think the supernova burned itself out?”
“Not yet. But it will soon. That's what pulsars do.”
“That's what they keep telling us.” Jeff had read everything the library had on these stars, and the truth was, most of them burned themselves out after only a few months. SN—1999 had stolen an entire year of their lives. Could the end really be in sight?
He looked at Zach, listened to the whistling sound of his friend's breath. No, Zach wouldn't have made the story up. But his father, Ned, could have been repeating a rumor. Jeff turned back to the window and peered up at the cloud-thick sky. If the star was burning out, things could go back to normal. Lights would come back on. There would be more cars on the streets. They'd have telephones again!
“That would be awesome,” Jeff muttered. “TV and computers, man. Video games.”
“Girls.”
“We can get girls now.”
Zach grinned. “Yeah, but we wouldn't have to work so hard. We could call them on the phone. Take them out in cars. Dude, if we could plug in amps, we'd be like real rock stars.”
Jeff doubted their little acoustic band would take them that far.
He glanced down at the street in front of their house, and wondered why Beth wasn't back yet. He and Logan had delivered all their papers and gotten back half an hour ago. Maybe the storm had slowed her down. Or worse, maybe she'd taken a side trip to the bank to see all the drama.
Little twerp. That was just like her. If his parents saw her there, they would blame him for letting her do it. He hoped she got home soon before he had to go looking for her.
four
B
ETH RACED HOME, LOOKING OVER HER SHOULDER FOR THE KILLER
. She couldn't see him, but she knew he was there. And even if he wasn't, he knew her name. It was a small town. He could find her.
She would be dead now if it hadn't been for the man who'd come out of nowhere. He'd looked homeless—dirty, unshaven—but he was a hero. Because of her, he was probably dead. The horror of that moaned up in her chest.
She had to tell someone so that the killer would be caught. But his words echoed in her mind:
You say a word, and I'll kill you and your family
!
Could he really do it? Would he know how to find her from just the name on her shirt?
What if he was following her? He may have had a bike behind the building. She glanced back and didn't see him, but he could still be there, just out of sight in the pounding storm, watching to see where she lived.