Through the suburban wilderness, the Whiskeyknitters caravan made its determined way.
Pamela, leading the way, wondered idly what her dog Edward would think about the end of the world. Would the fate of human civilization even register for him, so long as his people were near?
Next in line, Mera concentrated on not scratching her face and getting shoe polish everywhere. Peer pressure! she thought. I gave in to post-apocalyptic peer pressure! She remembered she had some handiwipes in the glove compartment and considered whether they’d make the problem better or worse.
In the third car, Kate rated the current apocalypse against other fictional apocalypses and felt proud her cohort had their priorities in order. She wondered whether this trip would end up more of a thriller or a caper, genre-wise. Both had merits, but for the sake of getting away with it, she hoped for the latter. And then she got distracted planning her part of the heist.
Sea Silk, she thought. Those people at the gas station thinking cars would be of use much longer when Handmaiden Sea Silk was the true riot-worthy resource. Handmaiden Sea Silk in aubergine…
In the last car, traditional road trip behaviors had been triggered, and Shannan had her hands over her ears and was doubled over laughing while Allison sang Journey songs.
Distracted as they were, none of them noticed at first that they were now quite thoroughly lost.