Instructions for the End of the World by Jamie Kain Read Free Book Online Page B

daughter, straight-A nerd, expert marksman (thanks to my father’s training), boring good girl.
    I know how people see me as I sit obedient and silent in class, rarely raising my hand to give answers, always getting the answers right when asked. I know I am a stereotype to kids I’ve gone to school with, and it hasn’t really bothered me.
    â€œLet me make something clear,” Dad says. “We’re not on an army post anymore. People come in every shade of crazy out here in the civilian world, and it’s your job to keep yourself separate, keep the outside world from getting in, you understand?”
    â€œWho am I supposed to be friends with?”
    â€œYou don’t need friends. You’ve got your sister, and that’s plenty.”
    I roll my eyes at the trees outside the passenger window. The idea of Izzy being pals with me is so ridiculous that I wonder if our father has ever actually met my sister. I mean, I know he has, but has he?
    â€œI’m not really Izzy’s type of person,” I say.
    â€œDon’t talk back. You and Izzy are family, and there’s no such thing as not being each other’s type of person when you’re talking about your flesh and blood. You hear me?”
    I stifle a sigh. “Yes, sir.”
    I have heard all this before, in various forms. It was stupid of me to start such a conversation, knowing it would lead straight to nowhere. Maybe because Izzy is so much more girlie than I am, he sees her as this incomprehensible and fragile creature, in need of a bodyguard.
    He doesn’t know her at all.
    *   *   *
    When we get back from the grocery store, I help Dad unload enough food to last at least a month. He works in grim silence, and I wonder if he’d been hoping to come home and find Mom back. In the kitchen, he has already assigned cabinets for each type of food, to be lined up in careful rows, so I do my best to put everything exactly in its place.
    When I have nothing left but a giant bag of dried rice and no empty canisters in which to empty it, I look for Dad to ask him what he wants me to do with it. I know from past experience not to let it sit in a pantry and get infested with moths. After searching the house, I find him in his newly set-up office. He is flipping through the pages of a binder on his desk, then pausing to write something on a page.
    â€œUm,” I say to get his attention. “What should I do with the rice?”
    He frowns up at me as if he hasn’t understood the question, and the vague look in his eyes sends a jolt of fear through me. He never looks anything but self-assured. Now, though, he seems a little frail, and older than I’ve ever thought of him. I can see streaks of gray at his temples that I’ve never noticed before, and there are deep lines around his mouth and eyes.
    I think of the way he’s changed in recent years, the way his opinions have gotten more extreme, his actions less predictable, and I suppress a shudder.
    â€œI’m going to be gone for a while,” he says. “You’ll be in charge here until I come back.”
    His words take a while to sink in, and I stare dumbly, unsure what to say.
    He glances up at me from the binder, looking tired and distracted. “Well? Any questions?”
    â€œWhere are you going?”
    â€œTo find your mother.”
    â€œFor how long?”
    â€œFor however long it takes to find her.”
    â€œSo … me and Izzy are staying here?”
    We don’t even have phone or Internet service yet. It’s all part of Dad’s plan to live off the grid, but his envisioned solar power panels are nowhere near being installed. At least he bothered to turn on the electricity with the local power company for the time being. I guess I should be thankful for that.
    â€œThat’s right. You’ve got enough food to last you, and I’ll leave you with some cash and the hunting