Part 8: Oak Creek
By Gale Langley

Aaron woke up the next morning to the sound of Jenna emptying their industrial size garden trash cans. "What are you doing Jenna, it's..." he stopped, remebering last night as he looked at the clock, frozen at 8:27.

"Getting ready to go down to the flower shop," she said, brushing her hair out of her eyes while continuing her war with the heavy bag. "The water's out, and if it's out here, it'll be out there, and those plants won't last in the heat. I'm gonna fill these up at the creek and take them down to town."

"Jenna! That's five...six miles from here. How are you going to get those down there? And...I'm not sure you should be going into town anyways. I mean, with the power out and all--there could be looters."

"Looters? Please! This is Oak Creek...not New York City. And I'm not going alone, anyways. You're coming with. I can't pull these in the wagon down to town by myself, can I?"

"You and your flowers!" he said, throwing his hands up in exasperation then begrudgingly going over to help her empty the trash.

So, together, they made their way into down town Oak Creek. For the first few miles it looked as it always looked, a lonely aspen-lined mountain road. Then, they found the first car, abandoned in a turn-out a about a mile from their home. They found more like that the closer they got to town, some pushed to the side, others left right where they stopped, in the middle of the road. Main Street looked like a parking lot, and a few of the cars were obviously the victims of fender benders.

The usually bustling tourist town was now oddly still. Except for a few people standing outside the general store with worried looks on their faces, there was no-one around.

"This is more than a blackout, Jill." She didn't need to answer him--it was something they both knew, and with no explanations coming to mind as to what is WAS, there wasn't much to say.

To Day 2: Part 2