Nuclear Winter Armageddon by Bobby Akart (best large ereader .txt) 📕

figure out how. Either way, it pedals like a regular bike and holds me pretty good. You might be able to strap your bags on the rack or somethin’ like that.”

Peter walked to the bike and set it upright. It appeared to be fairly new. Then he hesitated as he set it against a support post holding up the walkway above them.

“I can’t, Al. You’re gonna need this to find your mom a hospital.”

“No arguments. Jackie and I can manage. This is perfect for you, and you know it.”

Peter nodded and shrugged. Other than a nonstop flight from Dulles to Miami that wouldn’t likely happen for years, this was his best option.

“Okay. I have something for you, too.”

Peter wheeled the bicycle closer to the front door so it didn’t inadvertently ride off with someone else. The family had gathered in the living room again, and Jackie worked with her sisters to clean up the floor.

He gathered up the medications and distributed the potassium iodide tablets for everyone to take. He also provided them a bottle of amoxicillin for infections.

Finally, the tears flowed once again as Peter said goodbye to everyone, especially Jackie. They hugged until she finally relented. It was if she thought she could keep him if she didn’t let go.

But go he did. Peter had a long journey ahead of him. One that would present him with many challenges if the stories Al relayed were true. Staying nourished and healthy would only be part of his difficult task. Not being killed for his belongings would be a bigger one.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Monday, October 28

SNO-PARK at Echo Lake

Near South Lake Tahoe, California

The night before, Lacey and her family had ventured up the access road leading to Echo Lake and its surrounding campgrounds. It had taken them several hours to search for anything of value in the wrecked vehicles on the bridge. In addition to finding the ammunition for both pistols, the pickup had two full cans of gasoline, a loaded shotgun, and two hunting knives. Some of the other things they found included a Craftsman toolbox containing a variety of tools and several operable flashlights with batteries. Pushing through the pileup was an arduous task considering the slick conditions, but the additional snowfall proved to be a benefit, as the mud and snow tires mounted on the Bronco were up to the task.

It was getting dark, and Lacey was concerned about approaching South Lake Tahoe on the Nevada side of the state line. This was a tourist destination full of casinos, hotels, and surrounding campgrounds. The town was likely full of people, as, ordinarily, October was a beautiful time to visit the mountainous region.

So they turned off the highway and ventured up the access road toward Echo Lake, an outdoor paradise allowing visitors to hike, camp, and cross-country ski in the winter. A mile up the road was the first SNO-PARK, a permit-only parking area maintained by the State of California for visitors to be guaranteed a parking space that had been plowed in the winter.

They discovered several cars abandoned there despite the fact it was the least active of the nineteen SNO-PARK locations at Echo Lake. Once Owen pulled up to the small cabin that was used as a visitors’ information center, he parked the truck, allowing the three of them to observe their surroundings.

“If anybody’s here, I’m sure they’ll show themselves out of curiosity, don’t you think?” Lacey asked.

“I agree,” replied Owen. “Plus, it’s been three days since they hit the west coast. I imagine these people walked the ten or twelve miles to Tahoe.”

“Do you want me to go look around?” asked Tucker. “I could take a gun for—”

“No!” protested Lacey a little too aggressively. She caught herself and explained, “Tucker, you need to learn how to use a gun first. I think I’m the only one who’s ever shot a gun, and that was when I was a teenager.”

“That’s right, son. You can’t mess around with those things. Your mom has to teach us both how to use them.”

“We don’t have enough bullets to practice,” said Tucker.

“That’s true, but it doesn’t mean we can’t practice. Uncle Mike taught me how to handle a weapon by dry-fire training.”

“Dry-fire?” asked Tucker.

“That’s right. I’ll teach you what I know about handling a gun safely, and then we’ll practice pointing and shooting with no bullets in the gun. It’s called dry-fire shooting. Believe it or not, I got pretty good at shooting before I ever fired an actual bullet.”

Tucker was anxious. “Let’s get started!”

“Let’s make camp first,” said Owen, tamping down Tucker’s enthusiasm to practice with the weapons. He turned to Lacey. “Since you can handle a gun, can you stand watch while Tucker and I set up a camp? I wanna check out the little cabin. It looks like it has a stovepipe sticking up through the roof.”

Lacey checked the twelve-round magazine and confirmed it was full. She reinserted it into the base of the PT-111 Millennium Pro nine-millimeter handgun made by Taurus. It was a compact model and fit into her hand easily. She smiled and nodded to her husband, appreciating the confidence he had in her.

“Okay, I’ll walk around the truck while you guys get us set up. There’s some firewood over there, if you can use it.”

“We’re gonna have to sleep in shifts from now on, don’t you think?” Owen asked.

She grimaced and managed a smile. If the shoot-out at the bridge was any indication, their world was far more dangerous than it had been prior to the bombings.

“Dad, the door’s open,” announced Tucker, who had slipped out of his father’s sight and approached the visitors’ building without him. He tried the light switch several times with no success. He used a penlight flashlight he’d found in the wrecked Kia to light up the small building. “There’s a wood-burning stove. The place was trashed by somebody, but the windows aren’t broken out.”

Ten minutes later, a fire was built in the stove, and their sleeping bags