Eye of the Sh*t Storm by Jackson Ford (most romantic novels .txt) 📕

belly rumbles. God, when did I last have any food? Howlin’ Ray’s, that’s when, and I puked that up back at the storage unit.

“Was that your stomach?” Grant says, his mouth twisted in a smile.

“… No?”

“Like hell. They heard that from space. God, you must think I’m so rude, not offering you folks anything to eat. I should have mentioned that – I’m almost out myself, actually. I’d just eaten dinner when those two thugs arrived. I don’t think they believed me when I told them. Lots of hungry people around these days.” He leaps up, roots around in one of the duffels, comes up with a sad-looking bag of ramen noodles. “This is all I’ve got left, I’m afraid. I’d be happy to cook it up for you, if you want?”

He holds the bag out to me, but I shake my head. I don’t care how hungry I am, I am not stealing a homeless dude’s last meal.

“What are you gonna do when you run out of food?” Leo says, scratching Bradley Cooper’s belly.

“Excellent question. Truth be told, young man, I think I need to move on anyway. Like I said, tonight wasn’t the first time I’ve been robbed – or nearly robbed, I suppose.”

With one more questioning glance at me – you sure? – he stows the ramen in his bag. I close my eyes, telling my growling stomach to quit it. The food problem is one I’ve been ignoring, but pretty soon, it’s going to become too big to do so. It’s not just me – it’s Leo, too. He must be running on empty – although give him this, he hasn’t complained yet. I’m kind of impressed with him, actually.

If all this had happened before the quake, I would have suggested we go find a restaurant or a diner. Hell, a Starbucks. That’s not really an option right now. It’s not just that we’d risk being spotted on surveillance cameras – it’s that we could burn literal hours trying to find a working kitchen. They’re mighty thin on the ground these days. Sure, maybe we get lucky – find a convenience store that’s still open or something – but even then, we’d spend a while hunting for it.

“I’ll head to that camp I mentioned,” Grant says, as if he knows what I’m thinking. “Lots of people there now. Safety in numbers and all that.”

“What about your stuff?” Leo asks.

Grant says nothing for a few moments, busying himself with the bag. “I used to do a fair bit of hiking – walked Runyon Canyon all the time. I don’t mind hefting a bag or two. I’ll just take what I need.”

“You gonna put a microwave on your back?” Nic asks.

His reply is a weary smile. “I’ll leave that for other people to use. I don’t think anybody’s stupid enough to try unhook it from the power line, after all. Maybe someone else can get a cooked meal or two out of it.”

“We could come with you,” I say. “We’re kind of heading down the river too.”

“Oh, you’re welcome to join Bradley and me, for sure. But remember, I just ate. It’s hours of walking, and I’ll be doing it on a full stomach. You sure I can’t give you some—?”

“Positive. Thank you though.”

He taps his chin. “Come to think of it, you folks might want to check out the FEMA outpost.”

“What FEMA outpost?” Nic says.

“What’s a FEMA?” Leo asks.

“Federal Emergency Management Agency,” Annie says absently. She keeps looking back towards the water, arms folded tight across her chest. “They’re the ones who…”

She stops. Goes dead still.

And I think I know why.

“Yeah, they’ve still got an operation in LA,” Grant is saying. “Soup kitchen, water point, basic clinic. You might have to wait a while – it gets pretty crowded – and they definitely don’t let you stay, or else I’d never have been on the river at all. But it’s a lot closer than the camp I’m going to, probably no more than a forty-minute walk from here.”

“Where?” I ask. I already know what he’s going to say.

“Dodger Stadium.” He points. “It’s up a hill or two, but I’m pretty sure you can get there all right. You can definitely handle yourselves if there’s trouble!”

Annie says nothing, staring out at the rushing water, chewing her lip. Nic senses the change, sends a questioning glance my way.

Dodger Stadium. Somewhere I hoped I’d never have to go back to.

The place where Paul died.

TWENTY-FOURReggie

And with one phone call, Reggie’s world comes crashing down.

“We think we’ve got it,” Moira says. “We’re going to make a fix here, then reboot the entire system from our end to reset the encryption. That should take care of the issue, and should bring the video and audio links back online. I want your team ready to give me a full update.”

It takes a lot of effort for Reggie to respond. “Copy.”

Moira ends the call without another word.

All at once, Reggie doesn’t want to be in the office. Or even in the building. She wants to be far, far away from here, somewhere she can deal with everything that’s happened tonight. Where she can actually make a good decision, for once: an informed decision. She actually goes as far as to move her hand towards the chair’s joystick, meaning to push back from the monitors, turn her country ass around and go.

But she has never run away in her life, not ever, and she sure as hell isn’t going to start now.

Isn’t that why you told the lie in the first place? Running away is what you want.

Reggie shuts down that thought before it can get going. She’s got to deal with this. She can’t do anything about Annie – that connection is still down, and won’t be back online until Tanner reboots the system. But at the very least, she can get Africa onside.

She calls him on the comms. “Listen very carefully—”

He cuts her off. “I am on the other side