THANK YOU ALL for the views, comments, the votes! I really appreciate it! Please continue to read and keep up with Quinn's adventure. This chapter will present a tough decision that may have lasting consequences for the whole book - so choose wisely! I have already started working on some possible chapter 4's, so as soon as we have 5 votes about where to head with the story, I will work on that and release it 2-3 days after.

PLEASE ENJOY!

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THE SUN IS STARTING to set, and I know I should be running, because that's what my pounding heart is telling me, but I have to stop.

Seeing something on the side of the broken asphalt road regurgitates a memory long stowed away.

I stop. I have to. Because the rush of imagery that hits me is inescapable.

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I remember a time, about two years ago if the year really is 2022, when my family took one of our only trips together, with mom, dad, and my two sisters. To a place called Coeur d'Alene, in the northern part of a nobody state called Idaho.

When you're from New York, living in a floor-length penthouse on Upper East Side, Idaho is only a place you know French Fries come from. But during our trip, it became one of my favorite memories as a family.

It was the only time I actually got to spend more than a five minute phone call from my dad. It was the only time growing up when I saw my mom and dad in the same room not yelling wildly at each other.

The lake...the lake house...the house boat.

The picturesque scene unfolds of different hues of greens surrounding a rippling, silver lakefront, an eagle flying high overhead. Docks line the shorefront with people shouting to each other - not angry shouting, but happy shouting. The aroma that fills the air is almost palpable, a pure cornucopia of pine scent mixed with fresh mountain air and misty lake water. White sailboats dot the horizon line as a trepid breeze rolls through the hills surrounding the water. Various fishermen, young and old line up trying their luck at grabbing a trout or perch to fry later. Women of wealthy backgrounds lay out on the rocky shore, soaking in bronzing sun rays that only come from the clearest of blue skies.

I remember the vivid red and white stripes wrapping around the hull of the massive boat in which we spent our two weeks of vacation. My younger sisters, Jamie and Shaelynn – their names come roaring back to me like I just spoke with them – they're laying out on the deck of the ship sipping mimosas even though they shouldn't be legally doing so. Jamie is probably about 12 years old, blond, with sun-kissed skin and a genuinely happy smile and contagious laugh with no inhibitions, while Shaelynn is a little older, a brunette, skinny, hesitant to let out a laugh, and definitely more likely to call you out.

This time though, they're both laughing freely while mimosa sprays into the clean, mountain air from Jamie's mouth.

I can see myself, corner deck on the boat, and I know I'm sixteen, just barely getting my feet wet in the real world. Before the all-night private school parties. Before chasing every long-legged girl that wore a short skirt and high heels. Before my life went spiraling in all directions, and not just down.

Little did I know at the time, but my dad had actually planned the whole trip to "visit" a mistress in the area. At least some good fruits came out of the trip.

Already starting to fill out my own body though, I'm about six feet tall. Toned muscles throughout my body as I walk around shirtless, thinking I'm God's gift to women. My dark hair is a little longer, hanging past my ears, curling at the ends just slightly. My dimples of course, prominent on both corners of my mouth, and I stand there looking into my reflection trying to perfect my smile, to show both my pearly-white teeth and dimple at their fullest. I would learn how to use that smile to land many a girl. My skin is dark, golden brown from all the sun, and even though I have a little more baby fat than I do now, I can see my cheekbones and chin already sharply defined. You can even see the stripes from where I amateurly shaved my chest, afraid of the impending dark hair beginning to sprout.

As I strut around, trying to find my swagger, Shaelynn rushes from behind, throwing me into the water. Both girls high-five each other, laughing and pointing fingers at a now furious me, while I complain about having to do my hair again, only to reach in and pull Jamie into the water. What ensues is a full on dunking contest in the lake water.

At the end of the boat, I remember catching a stolen kiss from my dad to my mom. He has the same dark hair as myself while my mom has my facial features, but more feminine and beautiful. She has ginger hair, with a mix of blond interwoven. A delicate, petite woman, she is far more fiery than her little frame portrays. When I catch a glance of my parents talking seriously, my mom looks sad, with a mix of fury raging behind her eyes.

It was probably when he told her about the real reason he planned his trip there.

As I glance toward the shore, soaking in the moment, my eyes catch an oversized, red umbrella, perched about ten feet off the water line. Desiring to try out my newfound swagger, I swim at flying velocity toward the shore, trying to pump my muscles up a bit before I talk to the girl lounging underneath the red umbrella. As I come up to her, she realizes I must be headed her direction and meets my eyes with hers as I doggy-paddle nonchalantly up to the sandy beach. Her eyes. She removes her dark sunglasses and I'm awestruck by how piercing those blue eyes are, I stop, momentarily caught off-guard, until a little voice in my head says, hey buddy, stop creeping and go talk to her - don't make it weirder than this already is!

My internal swag voice.

I start to leave the water, feeling the cool breeze lick up my dripping legs. She stares at me, definitely noticing my physique I imagine. With a cobalt blue bikini top, a floppy straw beach hat, and legs that go for miles, I find myself standing there without a single word to say, completely intimidated by her gorgeous self.

So I start with my name. "Hi," I try to say as deeply-voiced as possible. "I'm Quinton York, but you can just call me Quinn."

She blushes, hiding a grin.

And I think I might have a chance until I realized why she's really blushing.

I start to become aware of that nice, little breeze, feeling it a bit stronger between my legs as it picks up. It's a little too strong. And then I realize, looking down exactly why this girl is blushing.

At some time between point A and B, during my overzealous swim to impress my girl, the lake current decided to poach my swim shorts and now I stood-

Butt naked.

In all my teenage glory, with a fair amount of shrinkage, and smiling wildly like a complete idiot, I now stood with outstretched hand, introducing myself.

The shrinkage on the outside wasn't nearly as bad as the internal shrinkage I was feeling.

And to top it all off, a now red-faced, angry bear of a father had come walking up to the shore, interested in the boy who now attempted to court his precious angel daughter. I recall he never liked me - And I'm starting to get an idea why.

Indulging my chagrin, I feel a delicate hand with slender fingers take mine, and in the most beautiful, light voice like music I hear the words.

"Celeste."

I faintly recall the rest for a moment but the memory starts to fizzle out.

There's nothing there. A brick wall.

Just Coeur d'Alene. And fishing. And talking to my dad about girls, about why they're so confusing all the time - his chuckling, my face turning red in embarrassment as I talk to him about the new girl I met, Celeste.

I felt happy.

I felt at home for once.

*******

Now I feel lonely.

I feel cold. And dark.

In fact, I felt terrified. Freaked out. About to lose it.

Because staring at the side of the road, I see in overgrown grass a sign broken in two, vibrant paint faded, wood splintering and weather-beaten from years of neglect.

In washed-out letters it says, "Welcome to Coeur d'Alene."

The panic grips at my heart like a grim reaper – needles of cold piercing through, the blood in my head pulsating so hard it feels like I'm going to faint any second.

This couldn't be it...

I don't believe it, in fact, can't believe that this place that not so long ago held one of my now scarce memories, is now a ghost town, abandoned, pillaged.

The lake...the lake house...the house boat.

Gone. Broken. Forgotten.

Glancing down the shattered asphalt road that leads into the city, I can see what used to be large condominiums and storefronts looking like crumbling sand castles. Like something attacked them.

But again I refuse to believe it.

It's gotta be a joke.

I wait for someone to jump out, my sisters, or maybe even Celeste. But nobody comes.

And the sun has set, casting dark, menacing shadows where just a minute ago, I could see ruins of a town.

Another deep howl in the distance makes my skin crawl, and I know I have to run.

Whatever it is, it's coming...

Across the way I can see what looks like a small rambler, down a long dirt path, nestled in a nook of pines. The moonlight just reflecting off what remaining glass windows still sit in its walls. And as I stare at the place, it gives me chills, especially when I see –

Light?

I can see flickering light, like from a candle, shining against one of the front windows, and for a fleeting moment, I think I can see a shadow silhouetted as the light passes the glass panes.

Another howl, this time definitely getting closer, maybe within a half mile now.

My mind races thinking about what to do, where to go.

I glance toward the city, the broken and vacated buildings, though a mile out, maybe hiding some kind of generator or something I could use to charge my phone and call the police. Maybe some untouched supplies?

I have to make a decision now though.

The rambler  that's obviously from a horror movie or the broken down city buildings a mile away?

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Please leave your comments about which way we go here! Rambler or city? And just to clarify - a rambler is a one-story house!

And if you have enjoyed reading "Nuclear Love," please take a minute and just hit that little star icon to VOTE so we can get even more readers jumping in here! Thank you so much!