Apocalipstick (Hell in a Handbag Book 1) by Lisa Acerbo (best motivational books for students .TXT) 📕

“It’s a blessing for our group.”

Even so, she had a hard time coming to terms with the genetic changes all too obvious in them but needed to get over the prejudice and fear. To believe the words she said to him. It had been a long time since her parents died and months since she got the scars lacing her stomach, the ones that left her wary. Months were as long as years with Streakers roaming.

When he reached out to pet the cat a few moments later, she didn’t notice. His hand slipped to her knee and stayed there. A row of stalled, flashing headlights distracted her.

“This can’t be good.” He parked and exited the car. Jenna gently placed the cat in the back seat and followed.

“What could go wrong now?” The words sounded strangled.

8

They joined Victor in surveying the unsettled landscape.

The older man ran a large hand through his short, salt and pepper colored hair and frowned in obvious displeasure.

“What happened?” she asked.

His dark eyes radiated unhappiness, unusual for a man who was jovial and eternally optimistic post-pandemic. When he couldn’t find a positive spin to put on the situation, it was serious. “There’s a huge pile-up of cars,” he said. “It looks man-made. People might have been trying to create a barrier against the Streakers at one time.”

“What can we do?” Jenna asked.

“We’re scouting around to see how far it goes, but it’s at least a couple hours of clean-up, or we try another route.”

Caleb’s lips pinched into a frown. “Will it give us time to get to our destination?”

“We’re considering our options, but I don’t know.” Victor scowled at the scene. “We might have to stay a day in a town close by. It’s called Pittsfield. A perfect name or what?”

The rest of the group had dispersed throughout the wreckage, and Jenna wanted to be of use. “What can I do?”

She hauled debris and moved rusty car parts while the New Race patrolled, watching for Streakers, ensuring everyone’s safety. Hours later, Jenna’s muscles burned. They’d hauled car fenders, tires, and barbed wire fencing. She prodded an old, broken Dodge Durango into a ditch. As Jenna deposited the last car battery in a pile that felt thousands of miles away, each foot became a burden to lift. Exhaustion swayed her.

Even with the concerted effort, the cleanup had taken almost three hours of hauling, jostling, and sweating. She caught her breath, watching Caleb trek close through the receding night sky. With the moon hidden behind murky clouds, it was hard to tell when morning would arrive.

“I’m exhausted.” She bent at the waist.

“We’re heading to Pittsfield. We’ll have to spend the day there and then make it to the High Point Inn tomorrow night.”

He put out an arm to steady her.

“I’m fine.” She grumped and moved away.

“You’re dead on your feet. Let me help you for once.”

“I’m no more tired than anyone else. I can do this.” She stalked back to the car and into her seat, checking the cat was still there before promptly falling asleep.

“Wake up.”

Fear shot through her with those words. “What time is it? Where are we? Did we make it to Pittsfield?”

“We found an abandoned movie theater. There’s a scouting party coming out now. The sun’s about to come out too. We’re all trying to hurry inside.”

She shook herself awake. “What can I do?”

“Help unpack.” He pointed to the back seat. People unloaded cars around her. Exiting the vehicle, she readied the equipment and placed them on the curb, waiting for the signal to move into the theater.

She surveyed the barren streets, mentally preparing an escape route if needed. Deserted. She didn’t expect to find any survivors loping along. The group hadn’t come across anyone for months, but maybe . . . there was always hope they would find more people before getting to the High Point Inn.

Jenna peered into the soon-to-be morning sky, unable to ignore the glorious sunrise about to bloom. Colors seeped across the horizon, clouds mixing gray and blue until they merged with the rising sun to blaze red and yellow.

How could the sun continue to rise every day when all the people she loved were dead? She couldn’t wait to get to the inn and hoped life could be relatively normal once again. Her grandest dream was to start a garden like her father had when he was alive.

Remembering fresh vegetables made her mouth water. How she missed her mother’s fresh-made marinara sauce from the tomatoes they grew and her secret-recipe vegetable stew. Not only could the garden feed them, but it would offer some independence. She didn’t want to rely on the New Race for her own survival.

“We got the okay.” Holding a heavy box, he nudged her forward. While the sun forced Caleb and the New Race inside the building, she finished unloading, carrying the cat inside last. An empty box would make a temporary bed for him.

“Be good. Stay here.” She doubted he’d listen, but she wanted to find Emma.

The older woman was in the middle of organizing breakfast with Jackie and Ford.

Jenna joined in, helping to mix a large bowl of flour, baking powder, sugar, and cinnamon with a little oil and a lot of water, forming a lumpy batter for pancakes.

“Can we afford to waste all these supplies for breakfast?” This would be a feast, celebrating the group nearing Virginia, but supplies were low.

“Got to enjoy life sometimes,” Emma said.

They used a propane-powered griddle to heat the food. The pancakes were not like her mother’s homemade recipe, but they’d supply people with the needed energy for the day ahead. The group had been lucky to find some canned peaches, and she hoped Emma, being in such a good mood, might break them out. People picked up the food and wandered off, breaking into smaller groups. Conversations turned into background noise when only the two women remained by the griddle.

She could always beg