“Oh, honey.” Claire swept down and gathered her niece into her arms. Molly tried to struggle free.
“I’m sorry, Auntie Claire.” She wiped her eyes and sniffed. “I thought everyone had gone to bed.”
“Don’t be sorry, Molly. You’re allowed to be upset.”
“I want to be strong for Mom,” Molly sniffed.
“Sweetie, your mother is an adult, and more importantly she’s your mother. It’s her job to be strong for you, not the other way around.”
“I know, I just don’t want to disappoint her. I heard her saying to you before about how good and strong I’ve been and how relieved she was that I’m not falling to pieces.”
Claire frowned. Molly shouldn’t have heard that. She’d need to have a quiet word with Lisa.
“You won’t disappoint her, sweetheart. I promise.”
“I’m just so scared,” Molly sobbed and this time she reached for Claire. Claire gathered her up and sat there, rubbing the young girl’s back the same way that her own mother had rubbed hers when Claire had been upset as a teenager. “It’s not fair. I haven’t even had my first kiss!”
“Oh, Molly… I know it’s not fair.”
“I know I shouldn’t complain, I mean at least I got thirteen years. Noah and Tristan… They’re so young.”
Claire felt tears prick her eyes, but she gritted her teeth and blinked them away.
“Yes, they are. And so are you. You’re right. It isn’t fair. Even if we do survive this, the world isn’t going to be the same.”
“Do you really think we could survive?” Molly asked in a small voice.
“I honestly don’t know, but if there’s a chance we can, we have to take it, right?”
“Right.”
Claire went back to her own house the next morning to wait for Tom, in the vain hope that he might come home today.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Tom
THANKFULLY the heating in the truck worked. They stopped for a break when they crossed into Manitoba and inspected the food package that Cora had given them. Tom pulled sandwiches, fruit, muffins and a couple of chocolate bars out of the bag. They divided up the food between the two of them. Mike ate most of his at once.
“What? I’m hungry,” he said defensively.
Tom shrugged. “Just so long as you know I’m not sharing when you get hungry again in a couple of hours.” He ate his sandwich but left the fruit, muffins and chocolate bar for later.
After half an hour of uneventful driving, Tom spotted a car broken down by the side of the highway. He slowed down. The hood was up and a man was studying the engine.
“Should we stop?” Mike asked uncertainly. Tom thought back to all the people who had been helpful and kind to them over the past two days.
“I think we should. We might be able to help. And if not, we can give them a ride to the nearest town. I wouldn’t want to be stuck out here in this weather.”
Tom pulled up in front of the broken down car. He grabbed his coat and scarf and got out of the truck. Mike followed him. The snow crunched under his newly acquired boots, and Tom mentally thanked Frank and Cora again. There were two men, one in his early twenties, and the other looked to be in his fifties. The older one was peering over the engine, while the younger one leaned on the side of the truck, smoking a cigarette, watching them approach with a suspicious expression.
“Hi,” Tom said when they got close enough. “Need a hand?”
The older man looked up in surprise. The younger man glared at them and flicked his cigarette butt out onto the snow. Tom frowned.
“Ah! Yeah, I dunno what’s wrong with the damn thing. Just stopped going,” the older man said. Tom came closer and looked down at the engine. The younger man didn’t say anything, but kept watching them with narrowed eyes.
“I’m Tom, by the way, and this is my friend Mike.” The older man and Mike nodded to each other.
“Jack’s the name, thanks for stopping. No one else has.”
Tom looked expectantly at the younger man, but he just grunted and pulled out another cigarette. The older man narrowed his eyes at him.
“He of little words goes by Sampson,” Jack said eventually.
Tom inclined his head. “I might be able to help, want me to have a look?”
“By all means.” Jack stepped back and gestured for Tom to come forward. It was an older truck, similar to the one that Uncle Jim had on the farm. Tom had spent countless days over summer holidays helping his uncle ‘tinker’.
“Woah! What are you doing?” Tom looked up at Mike’s panicked cry. Mike was standing with his arms stretched out. Tom’s eye’s slid to where Mike was looking, and then widened in disbelief. Sampson was holding a shotgun, and pointing it right at them.
“Put your hands up!” he demanded while advancing slightly.
“Sam, what are you doing?”
“Stay out of it, old man. I’m getting us out of here,” Sampson said calmly. “Give us your keys and I won’t shoot you.”
“There’s no need, really. I’m pretty sure I can fix this,” Tom said quietly. “It’s just—”
“Shut up and give me your damn keys. I don’t believe you.” Sampson held the gun steadily pointed at Tom. He gestured for Mike to stand next to Tom.
Jack sighed and shook his head. Mike stumbled over to Tom.
“Well?”
Tom sighed. “The keys are still in the truck,” he said after a long minute. He glanced apologetically at Mike. Sampson narrowed his eyes at Tom.
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
Tom closed his eyes briefly. “Go and check.”
Sampson’s eyes got even narrower. “Pop, go and see if the keys are where he says.” Jack sighed again. Tom could have sworn the old man looked disappointed, but he did what the younger man said.
“They’re here,” Jack called out once he reached their truck. Tom gritted his teeth.
“Well drive it down here then!” Sampson called out. “Do I have to think of everything?” he muttered. The old man climbed into Frank’s truck and it roared to life. He carefully drove it towards the site of the hold-up.
“You piece of shit,” Mike spat. “We stopped to help you, and this is the thanks we get?”
“Shut your mouth.”
“What gives you the right—”
“This does,” Sampson snarled and waved the gun.
Tom felt slightly detached, like he was watching a movie. He’d never had a gun pointed at him before. He felt slightly mesmerised by it.
“Look,” Tom tried to stay calm. “We’re just on our way back to our families. I have a wife, her name is Claire, and two little boys. Noah and Tristan. I just want to get home to them.”
“I don’t care. If you say you can fix it, take than hunk o’ junk… it’s nothing personal, I just need to get somewhere. With the world about to end, I don’t really give a flying fuck about anyone else. Desperate times call for desperate measures and all that bullshit. Nothing personal.”
The old man reached them. Sampson kept his gun trained on Mike and Tom as he walked around to the passenger side.
Jack wound down the window. “I’m really sorry about all this,” he said. “Sam… Sam is…”
“Just shut up and drive, Pop.”
Jack smiled apologetically at them before driving off.
“BASTARDS!” Mike howled. Tom surprised himself by making a rude gesture at the retreating truck.
“What do we do now?” Mike asked. They were miles from the nearest town, and no other traffic had gone past since they’d stopped to help. They should have kept on driving. Tom swore under his breath.