EMP Catastrophe , Hamilton, Grace [crime books to read txt] 📗

out immediately. Don’t forget the gloves! Patton, did you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Patton said, already diving out of the bathroom to put on the stretchy gloves and gathering a couple of plastic bags.

“Told you this would be an adventure,” Ruth said, as Patton scooped the dead mouse into the bag, along with the remains of the nest. “That we weren’t just cleaning.”

“I wish Allison was here,” Patton said, an evil grin on his face. “She would’ve screamed.”

“I’m sure she’ll scream just hearing about it,” Ruth said. She reached up to swipe strands of brown and gray hair out of her face that had fallen out of the loose bun on the top of her head. “Take that out to the trash. The outside one, not the kitchen one.”

Patton nodded and scampered out of the room. Ruth chuckled and walked back into the main bedroom, checking to make sure they had bleach to clean the jetted tub. Even outdated, Ruth imagined what the place would look like given some love. Matthew had already described his vintage-inspired vision, Kathleen had given him the side-eye as she’d tallied up the cost, David had grumbled about how he was there to build things not decorate, and Ruth took in her family with tears clogging the back of her throat. She never imagined it would take nearly losing David for her to see what was really important, but now she had her eyes wide open. This hotel would be a fresh start for all of them. It gave David purpose in his retirement. It gave her the chance to spend time with her grandchildren. It gave Kathleen and Matthew the dream they'd always wanted.

Patton scurried back into the room. “All done,” he said proudly.

“Perfect,” she said, and pointed to the vacuum. “Plug that in and start cleaning.”

She expected him to complain, but Patton had the easy-going attitude rarely seen these days among the fast-moving wave of a youth obsessed with social media, new phone updates, and tech talk she barely understood. There was definitely something of herself in him. He plugged the machine into the wall, and the loud roar of the vacuum filled the room. Ruth had taught him how to vacuum with precision: ensuring he got every bit of dirt, crossing over the carpet in multiple ways, and making the old padded-down carpet tuft back up.

The vacuum's roar suddenly stopped when Patton was mid-push. Both of them looked to the outlet to see if the plug had fallen out, but it was still securely in place. Patton frowned and tried to turn the vacuum off and on again, but nothing happened. Ruth flipped the light switch with no result. Then came a sputtering whir as the vacuum suddenly roared to life. Light flooded the carved glass lights above, shining an old gold tone down on them.

“We must have lost power,” Ruth said, looking up at the flickering bulbs. “The generator must have started up.”

“Hopefully the power comes back on soon.” Patton began to vacuum again, but on his second push, the vacuum stuttered silent again. “Ugh, the generator must’ve gone out now,” he said. “It’s not starting.”

Ruth sighed. Like most things up at the hotel, the generator was on its last legs. Matthew had ordered a new one, along with other equipment that was being shipped from out of state to bring the hotel up to code and into the modern age. It wasn’t a surprise that when they lost power, the generator had died. Just an inconvenience.

“I guess you can help me in the bathroom,” she said and together, they began the process of getting rid of any remaining signs of vermin. After a while, she looked around at the newly cleaned room. It seemed to shine—as it should! Her arms ached from scrubbing, but she had the warm pride in her belly of a job well done.

“Ready for the next one?” Patton asked.

Ruth nodded. “Yes.” She flipped the bathroom light switch to check for power. Nothing happened. “We’ll come back and finish up the vacuuming once the electricity comes back on.”

Together they cleaned out another bedroom and moved on to the third, using manpower to leave the blinds dusted, the linens piled up for washing, and the countertops gleaming. Ruth was grateful that they found no more signs of mice or bugs. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and checked the power again by flipping the light switch on and off. Nothing. The power most likely would be off for a while if it hadn’t started back up by this point.

Patton gave a yawn even as Ruth felt an uneasy twinge—she knew the power could be unreliable, but as morning slid into afternoon, this felt long even to her. Her mind kept being drawn to the industrial refrigerator downstairs, the freezer, all the other things that ran off electricity that might need her attention. She hoped that the hotel's problems were due to outdated machinery rather than infrastructure—starting a business always teetered on the edge of failure. If guests complained about the electricity constantly going out, they wouldn’t be in business long. She’d keep that to herself, though—no use worrying her grandson about generators or how much it would cost to fix it when he should be focused on his schoolwork and finding more gross things to gush about. She could only imagine the cost if the walk-in freezer malfunctioned. She frowned. That was something she should check. It wasn’t a front and foremost worry—after all, those machines were built to run colder than normal freezers—but if the generator had already gone out…

“Do you feel like a break?” she asked.

“I’m starving,” he lamented, and Ruth grinned. “Me too. Let’s get a snack.”

They walked downstairs and into the kitchen. Empty black pot holders sat silently above a wide square island for food preparation. Patton slumped on a stool with his elbows on the countertop with a tired sigh. Ruth opened the pantry door, taking a look at what they