It took another twenty minutes to reach his own block. Several other cars had passed, though none as fast as that orange one. Several times he saw people running out of their houses to jump in cars or load junk into vehicles parked out on the street. Clearly something big was going on, but he couldn't figure out if it was a big tornado—thus the sirens—or what. He couldn't even guess based on what he'd seen. He'd get it all sorted at Grandma's. Sure she didn't have internet or even a cell phone, but she seemed pretty well-informed most of the time. She would probably be sitting in her sewing chair listening to a radio right now, probably with Angie close by.
In fact he had this image so firmly in his mind's eye it took him several moments to digest what was going on when he finally saw his grandma's house. There on the front porch was Grandma Marty. She didn't have her cane or anything—just looked like she was dragging herself along the wall near the front doors.
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