[ IP ] Dark Days

Molly sat on the porch of the old motel and gazed off into the seemingly infinite horizon of the Great Plains. There was n't much to be said for the scenery surrounding this section of what used to be Highway 50 as it stretched across the former state of Kansas, stitching together the still smoldering remains of the East and West coasts. Twenty years ago today, the bombs had fallen, leaving the world a dry husk of what it had been. 
 
 Molly had already been forty when the cataclysm began. She'd been running the old roadhouse and motel that had been left to her by her parents while they had gone out for a vacation to see the Big Apple. Somehow, they'd never made it out of Kansas in their seventy years but figured it was better late than never and booked their flights. Molly'd had half a mind to go with them but did n't want to risk leaving the roadhouse in the hands of her brother as tourist season was kicking off bringing RVs and campers howling through the otherwise empty expanse of the state. 
 
 Turned out that decision had saved her life. Molly liked to imagine her parents had been in Times Square or Central Park seeing something amazing when the first bombs hit leveling the city and the surrounding coast. She'd never know though. 
 
 At first, traffic through Kansas had boomed as people fled the hot zones left by the explosions. Molly found her roadhouse over-capacity and without nearly enough food to help the people that were now flooding through. She tried her best, but in the end had to hire guards from among some of the travelers to protect the old motel from attacks by caravans of people desperate for food and shelter. It had worked, but she regretted it now. Better that the place had gotten run down. 
 
 She chewed on an old piece of straw and watched patches of fluffy clouds forming across the sky. Maybe they'd get some rain in the next few days. Lord knows they needed it. Molly was having to attach an old winch to the well to drag the water up. The wind had used to run the turbine above it bringing up fresh water every day, but the weather was n't as reliable as it used to be, and the ground was drier too. 
 
 No one was at the roadhouse now. Sure, a few travelers came through every now and then chasing rumors of better futures to be found either East or West. Molly'd heard enough of them now to realize that they were n't true, but she never had the heart to pass that along to the people that rolled through. They'd be just as well off on one side of the country as the other and it would n't do any good to quell their already small hopes. 
 
 A dust cloud forming on the eastern horizon signaled an oncoming traveler. She felt her gut tightening. Maybe they'd roll by but Molly doubted it. People seldom pass through here without stopping for at least one night to resupply. Her own supplies were meager, but she did well trading for rooms and food. Maybe they'd have enough gas to spare her some. Her tanks had run dry years ago, but people carried it these days in jerry cans to use for trade. 
 
 It took the wagon almost half an hour to reach her after she caught her first glimpse of it. Sure enough, they turned in to one of the open spaces across the front of the building. She saw a man leading two mules as they pulled an overpacked wagon and a trailer, probably full of water. It was risky taking those thirsty animals across the plains with a limited supply, but she'd seen desperate people do stupider things. 
 
 Molly hoped the man was the only one, but as a woman climbed between the mismatched curtains hanging across the door her heart sank. They were the fifth party to come through though and Molly had made a deal. Every fifth group was theirs. She hated every part of what she did, but she knew it was probably the only thing keeping the road open at all and she knew it saved more lives than it cost. Did n't make her any less bitter though. 
 
 She stood and walked across the front of the dilapidated building where the couple were getting off the wagon. The paint had faded across the parking area and the `` E'' had almost fallen off the motel sign, but Molly made sure the rooms were kept in good repair and the sheets were clean. 
 
 `` Howdy there!'' she said as she approached. `` Where're you folks headed?'' 
 
 The man smiled at her as his partner blinked sleep out of her eyes. `` Out towards Cali, ma'am. Heard word of good farm work out thatta way.'' 
 
 California had grown into a small nation and now covered most of the old Western US. Molly doubted there was any work there based on the talk she'd overheard from travelers coming from that direction, but who knows. Maybe something'd come up, she told herself. 
 
 `` How long you planning on staying?'' she asked. 
 
 `` We were hoping we could stay for a couple nights, and maybe refill our water if you have a well,'' he replied eyeing the old windmill. 
 
 `` You're gon na have to say some prayers for rain tonight if you want any water. And you'll have to winch it yourself, but if it rains it's yours. What do you have to trade? Got any gas?'' 
 
 The man looked a little crestfallen about the water. Evidently, they were running a little low. He perked up though when she asked about the gas. `` Sure do ma'am. Got a ten gallon drum in the back and I'm sure the mules will be happy to see it go,'' he said with a wink. 
 
 `` Done,'' Molly said reaching out her hand and shaking his. The bartering would n't matter in a couple days, but they would expect it. No point in arousing suspicions. `` Room for two then? You're the only guests right now and I've got a lovely little space for ya.'' 
 
 `` Actually-'' started the man, but he was cut off from a high pitched voice from the door of the wagon. 
 
 `` Daddy, where are we?'' A little girl, no more than seven was looking out from the curtains, rubbing sleep away from her face. A little boy, probably four, shoved by her as she spoke and looked around. `` Yuck,'' he said. 
 
 Molly's heart dropped. Not kids. Not now. Who would think it was okay to drag their kids across this wasteland? And in a wagon. She stared at them and tried to think of a solution, but nothing was coming to mind. 
 
 `` -and drag the drum over to the shed if you'd like? Molly?'' The man's voice cut into her thoughts and she realized she'd missed the first half of what he'd said. 
 
 `` What? Oh, yes, of course. The gas can go right to the shed. I'll roll it in and lock it later. So, a bigger room then. Let me see what I can do.'' Molly bustled back towards the motel, her mind racing. She knew she had to do something, but what?
