Annihilation (The Seamus Chronicles Book 1) by K. D. McAdams Page A

repertoire. I know this because Liam is talking with Sofie and they are all looking at me now. Someone must have asked a question. Not only do I not have the answer, I can’t even guess at the question. And I’m probably staring.
    “Do you guys want a ride?” Maybe having power over the car will give me some coolness.
    “No. Seamus, I asked if you knew where Dad is,” Grace is looking at me with her amused you need to pull it together face.
    I’m still sitting down and realize that I look foolish, but I’m regaining my faculties.
    “I don’t know where Dad is, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t have exercise in the plan.” Now I’m getting my swagger.
    “Seamus, Dad told me the plan. Sofie and I are going to walk to the Historic Society. If we are going to be cooped up in a car for four days, I want to get some exercise and fresh air now.” Grace does not acknowledge any swagger. “I wanted to tell him we were leaving so he would know where we are. Will you tell him we left?” she says over her shoulder as she and Sofie head out the door. They have known each other for less than 24 hours but have been talking like they were friends for life. I don’t understand how they can have so much to say.
    “Come on, Seamus.” Liam is out the door and wants to drive.
    I get up from the chair and follow after him. I’m not really sure where we are going or what materials I wanted to source. I hate struggling with things that are not scientific. When there are no facts, there is usually no point, as far as I’m concerned. But my feelings for Sofie have no facts. I can’t rationalize them with a formula. For some reason I just want to catch up to them and walk beside her and listen to what she and Grace talk about. But that would be pointless.
    In a fog, I climb into the van and tell Liam we’re good to go.
     

Chapter 9
    Dad was pissed that we didn’t leave a note or some other method of telling him we had left.
    We all get a stern lecture about communicating. Sofie is spared a little bit, but Dad makes it pretty clear that if she is going to stay with us she will be held to the same standard. I am a little surprised at how she handles him. She offers a simple, honest apology and an acknowledgement that there is one set of rules for everybody.
    Grace tries to explain to Dad that everyone makes mistakes, including adults. But that isn’t what he wants to hear. He calls it backtalk and makes clear that this is not what he expects from his children. I see only a subtle difference between what Grace and Sofie said and I want to argue details and stick up for Grace. But I hold my tongue; the sooner this is over, the better for all of us.
    It’s almost one in the afternoon. We’re all standing around the kitchen unsure how to proceed after the lecture.
    “Does anyone want nachos with me?” Liam asks as he heads to the fridge.
    Food. Lunch. I wonder why I never get interrupted with thoughts of eating. In the past I have gone almost 36 hours without eating. I get so wrapped up in my work that I don’t even think about food. Sleep has always won out over hunger. But suddenly I’m starving.
    Liam makes his nachos, and Grace and Sofie pull some late greens from the garden. Dad is frying up some cold cuts and cheese to put on a bulky roll. My standby is cereal. Today I grab our biggest mixing bowl and fill it with three-quarters of a box of Special K. I finish the milk and head to the sink to rinse out the plastic container. As I turn the water on, I notice that Dad is staring at my bowl.
    “Was that the last of the milk?” he asks without looking at me.
    “I think so. I didn’t see another one in the fridge,” I say, unsure of why there is so much drama around finishing the milk.
    All the motion in the kitchen has stopped and everyone is looking at my bowl. Suddenly I realize what they all seem to have processed already. This is the last milk we will have for a long time. Even if the power stays on, the milk left