6:00 Hours: A Dystopian Novel Read Online Free PDF

“Let’s go, let’s go!”
                  Mark grabbed as many bags as he could carry and pushed open the front door. Wind and rain swept inside, causing Mark’s balance to waver slightly. He bent his head and plowed through, followed by Alexander. Tara, sheltering Caleb in her chest, gazed at Rachel with sad eyes. She said nothing before exiting the house into the storm. Only Lena remained, her pink backpack on, and her eyes pink from crying. She hesitated by the door, looking back at Rachel.
    “You’re not coming with us?” Lena asked, bewildered.
                  Rachel shook her head and tried to muster a smile.
                  “Your parents need to take you somewhere safe. You and your brothers.”
                  “What about you? You need to be safe, too!”
                  “I will. Don’t worry.”
                  Tara returned to the door, calling for her daughter. She opened it and grabbed Lena’s arm.
    “Mommy, we can’t leave her!” Lena pleaded with her mother, pulling back.
                  Tara glanced at Rachel, the lines in her forehead deepening. Every second lost was another second the tsunami came closer. Rachel could tell guilt was growing inside Tara, but taking Rachel meant being responsible for another human.
                  “We’re going,” Mark shouted, his voice sounding very soft and very far away.
    The van’s headlights went on. Mark had a plan and Rachel was not a part of it. Tara pulled Lena to the van and shoved her inside. Rachel could hear the girl screaming as the van pulled away, spinning water off its tires. For a moment, Rachel almost couldn’t believe they had just abandoned her, but she knew it was more complicated than that. Taking her with them meant dealing with the tsunami and its after effects as a group, and they were not prepared for that. She would have to share in all their supplies. The Buckley’s knew it was unlikely that they could outrun the tsunami, so it was like taking Rachel with them was just letting her hitch a ride. It was letting her into their family. How many would have done any different?
    With the Buckley’s gone, Rachel rushed into action. She would leave her big suitcase behind and just take what she could carry on her back. She tore open pantry and cupboard doors, scouring the shelves for anything the family had left behind.  Besides some juice cans, nothing seemed terribly useful at the moment. She needed to waterproof her things. After some more searching, Rachel discovered Zip-loc bags. Her fingers trembling, Rachel put everything that could fit into the plastic bags -her cell phone especially - and sealed the bags closed. She grabbed one of the smallest survival candles and a half-empty box of matches on her way out the door.
    The wind hit her so hard in the gut it took her breath away. Rain pelted against her face so cold it felt like ice.
    Think, Rachel. You need to get inland fast.
    By the time she crossed the fifteen feet to her car, she was soaked up to her knees from the standing water. The street must have been at a slight angle because all the water was running downwards and puddling up in the grass. Rachel’s jeans were glued to her legs. Inside her car, she set her backpack on the passenger seat and took out her plastic-bagged map to plan a route. Would she even be able to read street signs? Rachel’s heart began to pound. She took her phone out and looked through the plastic to see if she had bars. None. Rachel had been in an almost disturbingly calm state for the last few days, unable to do much, but now that she was once again truly responsible for herself, panic began to emerge. This was serious. This was life or death. Rachel thrust the map back into her backpack and turned on the car. Water shot out from beneath her tires as she pulled ahead. She didn’t know where she was going, but she knew what she was getting away