You’ve been with me for the last eight hours, so you know I’m telling the truth. I’ve been where you’re going, she answers.īefore Rebecca can answer, Harry snaps, That’s none of your business, blue blood. What does he mean, ‘you’ve been there’? I ask. Even in the shadows I can sense her uncertainty. Once again Rebecca glances over the seat at me. Next thing you know, you’re chasing him through the woods cussing yourself for being such a fool. Now how’s he gonna do that with his hands cuffed behind him, right? So he swears on his mother’s grave if you undo them he won’t run. You loosen those cuffs, next he’ll say he needs to relieve himself by the side of the road. First rule is, don’t believe a word these kids say. Couldn’t you loosen them just a little?įat chance, Harry chuckles. I’m worried I’ll have permanent nerve damage or something. But there is a hardness around her eyes and mouth that makes me think of someone older. She has a pretty face and streaked blond hair with dark roots. In the eight hours since they grabbed me, I’ve learned that Rebecca is new to the business of kidnapping for hire (Harry prefers you call him a transporter). Her name is Rebecca, and she is younger than Harry. The woman sitting beside him turns to look over the seat at me. You really want to know what my father does? How about loosening these handcuffs and I’ll tell you. Harry’s been calling me blue blood ever since he and the woman riding shotgun took me against my will from my parents’ house, drove me to the airport, and flew me to upstate New York. What’s your father’s business that he can afford a place like that? That was some spread we picked you up from, blue blood. When my parents hired you, did they know that physical abuse was part of the deal? I ask.įrom the movement of his head, I sense that Harry is looking at me in the rearview mirror, but his eyes are hidden in the shadow from the rim of his hat. With my hands joined by the handcuffs in the small of my back, there is no way to get comfortable, no way to relieve the pressure that has cut off the circulation. Now and then sudsy spray splashes against the windshield, and the wipers wash away dust and splattered bug carcasses. Rocks kicked up by the tires clank against the car’s underside. Except for the short stretch of dusty, reddish dirt road illuminated by the headlights, it is as black as blindness outside. The car bounces and lurches through the dark. Would you at least tell me where you’re taking me? I ask. I feel nothing but tingling from my wrists down.

My hands, locked behind me for the past two hours, have gone numb. From my seat in the back of the dark car I can only see the silhouette of his shoulders and thick neck beneath the wide-brimmed hat. Harry wears a cowboy hat and speaks with a western accent. If you’re sorry, then why don’t you help me? Maybe you could loosen the handcuffs? I ask. Internationally best-selling author Todd Strasser has written his most impressive and personal novel to date, ruthlessly yet sensitively exploring the terrifying what-ifs of one of the most explosive moments in human history.Your parents sent you to Lake Harmony because they love you. But even worse is the question of what will-and won't-remain when the door is opened again. With not enough room, not enough food, and not enough air, life inside the shelter is filthy, physically draining, and emotionally fraught. In the middle of the night in late October, when the unthinkable happens, those same neighbors force their way into the shelter before Scott's dad can shut the door.

As the neighbors scoff, he builds a bomb shelter to hold his family and stocks it with just enough supplies to keep the four of them alive for two critical weeks. But Scott's dad is the only one in the neighborhood who actually prepares for the worst. What if the bomb had actually been dropped? What if your family was the only one with a shelter? In the summer of 1962, the possibility of nuclear war is all anyone talks about.

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