Thirty days.
The countdown has started, North America shivers under the shadow of a massive alien spacecraft, and humanity is hurtling toward an unknown future that lurks at the end of the timer. Somewhere, somehow, the heroes are making their plan...
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SOMEWHERE IN HICK-TOWN, NORTHEASTERN UNITED STATES
PIT STOP #1: LOST IN PENNSYLVANIA
August 30, 7: 13 AM
Billie's morning grogginess broke when her head thunked against the car ceiling, the tires bouncing through a pothole large enough to drown a small herd of cattle.
Glancing at her passenger, Billie took a moment to admire the fine bone features of her companion, somehow still slack and smooth in sleep. Thea's cheekbones and thin, tip-tilted nose were impish, softened by the roundness of her chin and plush pink lips. Lips that were hanging open, a thin line of drool dribbling down her chin. Even that was cute.
Billie sighed. Three weeks on the road, and she still hadn't girded her tits to make the confession that spurred this whole blasted road trip.
The car coughed, the engine sputtering ominously in an irritable reminder Billie had pushed it too far and too long last night. Baby might look like a classic Caddy with the sea foam fins and trim, but her guts and bones were a butcher's operating table of whatever junkyard cars were mostly compatible. Frankenstein's monster brought to life by elbow grease and creative welding. If you didn't look too closely, it was a memorable drive-by experience. Driving Baby took a bit more finesse than the average vehicle, but Billie was the Frankenstein of this scenario, and she knew how to make those innards purr again.
Then there was the other problem.
This time of day, sunshine should be blinding her through the windshield, but it was muted as it was every day this month, while the great belly of the apocalypse hung in the sky with the same temerity as Billie's Born Again Aunt Judith on Christmas. Another sputter reminded her of the need for a pit stop.
"Hey, time to wakey-wakey, eggs and bakey," she nudged Thea's elbow. Her passenger woke with a snort, grimacing from hours spent sleeping up-right. Thea peered out the windshield, baby blue eyes wide.
"What time is it? Where are we?" Her jaw cracked when she yawned and stretched, one careless fist nearly clocking Billie in the cheek.
"Little after seven in the morning," said Billie, frowning at the shadowed greenery, broken up by sporadic strips of houses and businesses. "Best guess is somewhere in Bumfuck, Pennsylvania?"
Thea squinted through the window. "We're not at the coast yet?"
"Gurl, there is a lot of ground to cover. These states are huge, not like those piddly New England states that are a sneeze to get through," said Billie. Not to mention she was so, so lost. Pit stop first, then panic. "Once we push through to New England, it's a hop, skip, and a jump to the coast."
At least she hoped so. "See any good place to stop?"
Thea lifted her hands and peered through the circles of her thumbs and forefingers. "Ahoy there, Captain, I do believe that is a Wally World sign I see over yonder."
