Read Under a Broken Sun for Free Online

direction, I guess.  I ended up majoring in astro-mathematics just to shut him up.  And it did come easy. 
    “What’s a magnetosphere?”  Marilyn asked.
    “It’s a layer of the atmosphere,” I said, trying not to sound too nerdy.  “According to this, if it’s hit hard, we’ll see massive fluctuations in temperature, increased solar radiation, and…”
    Holy shit.
    “The Earth will be uninhabitable in less than a year.”
    I read the last words on the last page:  “Should the worst case scenario occur”.  That was it.  No instructions, nothing.  I could finish it off myself, though.  Should the worst case scenario occur…we’re fucked.
    Marilyn looked up at me, “We’ve got a year?”
    “Looks that way.”
    “One fucking year?”  I nodded and folded the papers up, putting them away.
    Ashley tried to hold back the tears.  “Jesus,” she whispered.
    “There’s gotta be something we can do,” Marilyn said.  “Somewhere we can go.” 
    Somewhere to go.  “My dad said to meet him in Chicago.  He said that’d be the best location.”
    “Why?” Marilyn asked.
    “Access to fresh water, easy to find, centrally located for survivors.”
    Marilyn closed her eyes and leaned against the wall.  “Fuck.” 
    “You ok?" I asked. 
    She didn't answer right away.   When she looked up at me she seemed to snap herself back to this reality. "Yeah, yeah.  I'm all right,” Marilyn said.  She smiled, “My dad's a preacher.  Always talked about Armageddon when Christ will come again to judge the living and the dead.”  She stood up.  "Bullshit, I know."
    I wasn't too sure she believed that.  “Look," I said, "the only thing that’ll determine the living and the dead will be ourselves.  If people want to lie down and die for their God, let them.”  I stood up and started walking, Marilyn following behind.
    “Where are you going?” Ashley asked.
    “Chicago.  But first I need some supplies.”
    Ashley jumped up.   "Don't leave me," she said with a squeal.
     
    A quick climb up the highway off-ramp and we could see the city of Philadelphia ahead of us, across a river.  The buildings stood as if frozen in a painting: no blazes or massive explosions.  Small fires sent thin pillars of smoke up on the horizon, but otherwise it could’ve been an ordinary Saturday.
    Except for all the dead cars on the highway.  Thousands parked in their spots like the world's greatest 3D snapshot.  Drivers waking up into a nightmare got out of the cars they loved too much to abandon.  Some cars looked as if they were pushed to the side, and I couldn’t help but wonder why anyone would think that would fucking help. 
    We walked up a bridge weaving our way between the cars.   About half way across the river the structure of the bridge bent away like a massive beast tore it with its bare hands, dropping the road down to the river.  A single thread of a girder connected our side to the other, about a hundred feet away. 
    If we wanted to get to the city, we were gonna have to cross it.
     

5.    
     
    To our right, the tail of another airliner poked out of the river two hundred feet below.  That made three failing aircraft just near the Philly airport.  Christ, how many dropped out of the sky yesterday?  How many dead? 
    No time to think about that.  I scanned the area for another way across, for anyone who could tell us what happened.  Several cars clung to the edge of the remaining part of the bridge; one teetering like it would take a dive at any minute.
    Some guy snoozed in a messed up Dodge Dart.  He jerked awake from behind the wheel when I tapped on his window.  A weed pipe dropped from his chest to the floor.  “Hey,” I said.  “What happened here?”
    He rolled down the window and squinted at me.  “Huh?  Oh, plane hit the bridge going down,” he said.  “Took fifty cars with it.”  He looked up at me with lifeless eyes.  “All of them, dead.  We could hear