red hill - jamie mcguire

doorknobs.
Miranda
ONCE WE GOT TO THE ranch, we would be safe. That was what I kept telling Ashley while trying to
keep the Bug from getting stuck—on or off the highway. Daddy would be there waiting for us. He was
a crack shot, and Bryce had been hunting with him enough over the years that he was getting pretty
good, too. I had teased my dad so many times about his ridiculous collections of firearms and
ammunition. No one needs this many. It’s like a car collection. It’s a waste, I would say. But
because of my dad’s silly obsession we would have weapons, the kitchen cabinets and pantry would
be well stocked, we would have well water, and Butch—my dad’s bull. He didn’t like anyone in the
yard. Not even us. If we let him out, we’d have our own security system. Red Hill Ranch was the best
place to ride this out.
All we had to do was make it there, and we were in like Flynn.
We’d all tried our cell phones. Different numbers. Even 911, but we all got the same busy signal,
or out-of-range signal, as Bryce called it.
“The towers must be down,” he said.
“Well, that’s just great,” Ashley said. “I can’t get Internet, either!”
“Trust me,” I said. “No one is checking your Facebook status right now.”
“For the news,” she snapped, irritated with my joke.
“I’m going to take this exit. Take a back way. The interstate isn’t getting any better, and if I keep
driving in the median and the shoulder I’ll end up blowing a tire.”
Bryce frowned. “We’ve only got another twenty miles until the Anderson exit. The interstate is the
fastest way to your dad’s.”
“It used to be. Now we’re bypassing hundreds of cars stuck or stalled and trying not to run anyone
over.” Ironically, just as I said that, an older man stepped out between cars. He leaped back just as I
passed. I wasn’t slowing down. Not even for the terrified people who were now on foot and crying
out for us to save them.
“Miranda,” Ashley said, her voice small. “They’re not all sick. We can help them.”
“Help them how, exactly Give them a ride We’re in a Bug, Ashley, we don’t have any room.”
“Ash,” Cooper said, trying his best soothing voice, “she’s right. Everyone is afraid. If we stop,
someone might take our vehicle from us.”
“I’m taking this exit,” I warned, glancing over at Bryce.
“Stay on the interstate!” Bryce barked, a hint of desperation in his voice.
He wasn’t trying to be a jerk. I couldn’t blame him; leaving the interstate was choosing something
unknown. Anything unknown in this mess was downright terrifying. Staying on the same road as
thousands of others who had the same goal of survival was less daunting somehow. We weren’t alone