When that was done, they climbed in the Tahoe and hit the road.
63
Somehow the blackout had seemed less strange during the gunfight. Peter had been on a lot of night missions as a Marine and seeing the darkened landscape through the green of the goggles had felt familiar.
But now, driving through town, it felt truly eerie. There were no streetlights or stoplights. No businesses lit up. No porch lights or yard lights. The only light came from the Tahoe. And when they passed, the darkness behind them was complete. Just the stars shining down through that cold infinity.
With Peter behind the wheel, June in the passenger seat, and Lewis in the back in case of a prisoner insurrection, they retraced their path, rolling through Electric City and Coulee City and Ephrata. Each town in its utter darkness feeling like something empty and dead. June kept checking her phone but there was no signal. They saw no other cars.
They crossed the flat plain of Quincy Valley, whose irrigatedorchards fed millions. A hundred thousand fruit trees would die without pumps to raise the water from the ground. They stopped by the side of the road to fill the tank from the fuel cans on the roof, then kept going.
By the time they got to the interstate, it was almost fivea.m. Peter put the hammer down, not worried about speed traps, knowing the troopers would have plenty of other things to do tonight. The Tahoe ate up the miles. Even on I-90, they saw no other vehicles. He figured most night drivers had either made it home or run out of gas by now, and the early risers were sleeping in until the power came back on.
His adrenaline had long since leached away. They had all sucked down the energy bars, water, and cans of Coke that June had brought, but that was before the fight and now they were all yawning. He’d turned the heat down to help them stay awake.
They crossed the Columbia in utter blackness, rose into the badlands for a while, then dropped down into the next valley. Lewis put on his night-vision goggles to peer out the side window. “First real town up ahead,” he said. “Might have to do a little B&E, but we need to get us some damn caffeine.”
“I’m good with that,” Peter said. When the Kittitas exit came up, he took it. At the bottom of the ramp, he turned right and his eyes found a glow. It was an independent gas station, windows and sign dark. The glow came from the parking lot, filled with cars and trucks circled around a bonfire. People stood on the gravel in ones and twos, hunched against the cold, looking up at the stars.
“This will be interesting,” June said.
Peter pulled the Tahoe off the road and found a spot away from the pumps and the other vehicles. They got out with their rifles slung behind them and pistols in their waistbands, checked the prisoners, then walked toward the convenience store’s door. A round-faced guy with pimples and a wispy mustache walked out to meet them, hisbreath white in the night. He was trying not to stare at their weapons, but not doing a very good job of it.
“Sorry, fellas,” he said. “Power’s out and the pumps don’t work. Registers neither.”
Peter’s wallet was at the bottom of the retention pond at the Auburn Mall, but he knew Lewis had money. “How about cash?”
Three other men wandered over. They wore scuffed boots and dirty Carhartts. Two had pistols on their belts. One, older than the others, had a shotgun broken over his shoulder like a bird hunter. They didn’t speak, just stared at Peter and Lewis, who stared right back.
The clerk said, “Cash works, but I can’t make change.”
Peter turned to Lewis, who peeled a hundred-dollar bill off a roll. Peter held it out to the clerk. “We just want coffee,” he said. “And food.” He looked at the other guys. “You want coffee? It’s on us.”
They shook their heads. “We’re good,” said the hunter. They were giving off a weird vibe, Peter didn’t quite get it. He wanted coffee but he had no desire to kill anyone else that day if he could help it.
The clerk took the bill, glanced at it, then nodded. “Coffee’s gonna be cold and old, but you’re welcome to it.” He opened the store’s door and held it for them. “Come on in.”
They left the other guys lingering outside and walked through the spotless little store, using the small tactical flashlights Manny had given them. The coffee was viscous and sour, but there was a full pot. Peter shared it out into three large cups and tucked them into a cardboard tray along with a handful of creamers and sugar packets. June was at the soft drink coolers. “Hey, they’ve got some of those Starbucks cans.”
“Grab a few,” Peter said. “And a couple gallons of water.”
Lewis came over, loaded up with packs of assorted nuts and beef jerky. “Protein.”
They dumped their haul on the counter. The clerk looked at the pileand began to punch numbers into his phone’s calculator. “This all’s gonna cost you a lot more than a hundred bucks.”
Now the other men stood at the store entrance, partially blocking it. Peter turned from the register and let his hand fall near his pistol, aware of Lewis doing the same. “You guys are making me nervous. You mind backing away from the door?”
The hunter looked at him, sucking on his teeth. His face was thin and severe. “You guys military?”
“Marines.” Peter tipped his head at Lewis. “Army.”
“We were all Army, too,” the hunter said. “So you know how it is. We’re just making sure everything’s copacetic and nobody gets hurt.”
“Roger that,” Peter said. “But I’d still feel better if you gave us a little space.”
The men looked at one another, then shrugged and shuffled back a few steps.
Lewis pulled two more hundreds from his roll and held them out to the clerk. “This enough?”
