Bethany Mangle - Prepped

There's no survival guide for falling in love.

First-Aid Kit

Nonperishable Food Items

Backpack

Comfortable Clothing: Necessary for easy mobility, especially when sneaking out of the house.

Arranged Marriage: A handsome companion for the end of the world. There's no time for love if you're the last people on earth.

Water-Resistant Watch: When breaking curfew, accuracy is vital.

Gas Mask: Would you risk being caught without it?

Hiking Boots: Sturdy footwear puts the "run" in "running away".

Prepped

Bethany Mangle

MARGARET K. McELDERRY BOOKS

An imprint of Simon & Schuster Childrens Publishing Division

1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, New York 10020

www.SimonandSchuster.com

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the authors imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Text 2021 by Bethany Taylor Mangle

Jacket illustrations 2021 by Rebecca Syracuse

Jacket design by Rebecca Syracuse 2021 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

MARGARET K. McELDERRY BOOKS is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Simon & Schuster Special Sales at 1-866-506-1949 or .

The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event, contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at www.simonspeakers.com.

Interior design by Irene Metaxatos

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Mangle, Bethany, author.

Title: Prepped / Bethany Mangle.

Description: First edition. | New York : Margaret K. McElderry Books, [2021] | Audience: Ages 14 up. | Audience: Grades 10-12. | Summary: Raised among doomsday preppers, Becca Aldaines life has centered on planning for the worst, but when her escape plan is jeopardized, she turns to the boy she is expected to marry and hopes for the best.

Identifiers: LCCN 2020031253 (print) | ISBN 9781534477506 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781534477520 (eBook)

Subjects: CYAC: SurvivalismFiction. | Family lifeFiction. | High schoolsFiction. | SchoolsFiction. | Arranged marriageFiction.

Classification: LCC PZ7.1.M364675 Pre 2021 (print) | DDC [Fic]dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020031253

TO MOM & DAD: WHEN YOU SIGNED ME UP FOR A LIBRARY CARD, YOU DIDNT JUST GIVE ME THE WORLDYOU GAVE ME ALL OF THE WORLDS.

EVEN THE CHILDREN COME TO watch us drown. Four of us line the banks of the duck pond in insulated clothes, shivering through alternating spikes of adrenaline and fear. Rays of waning sunlight speckle the black surface of the water, punctuated by ripples of movement from the fish unfortunate enough to reside here.

Dad waits for the entire community to assemble before launching into his usual pre-training speech. He adjusts the collar of his fleece-lined jacket and clears his throat against the side of his fist. Our focus today is cold-water survival. We dont know if well ever fall through ice or have to wade across a river to search for food.

Right on! someone shouts.

The cheer electrifies the rest of the group. They surge forward, as if eager to watch my misery up close. From the rear, a womans voice calls out our unofficial motto: Always be ready for the worst day of your life!

Dad shoots a withering glare in the direction of the speakers. Our neighbors shrink away, chastened. As I was saying, disaster can strike at any time, folks. That means winter. That means tougher hunting. That means walking farther and working harder to stay alive. He turns to us, gesturing at the colorful flotation devices piled by the bank. During this scenario, your objective is to don a life preserver and conserve your body heat for ten minutes. The water is forty-one degrees.

I glance at my sister as she peeks out from around my mothers waist. When no ones looking, she mouths, Always be ready, complete with a dramatic eye-roll and a sassy wobble of her head. My jaw tenses with the effort of restraining a laugh. Katies small mockeries make this tolerable.

As soon as Dads finished grandstanding, she rushes over with my neon-orange life vest and presses a kiss against the collar. For good luck! she chirps as she tosses the vest into the water. After watching it partially submerge and then bob to the surface, she prods me with her elbow. Why do we call this the duck pond if its full of geese?

I suck in a ragged breath as I untie my shoelaces and kick my boots into a nearby bush. Thick muck squelches between the toes of my athletic socks. Ill tell you later, I mutter, distracted by the slow drift of unidentifiable brown goop across the pond.

I was just wondering.

Line up for your safety inspection, Dad barks.

I shuffle into position and pat my pockets to make sure theyre empty. My watch is water-rated. The life preservers are already in the water. All set.

Dad pauses next to the boyfriend he chose for me, giving him a firm handshake and a smile that shows more teeth than affection. In my family, thats practically a French kiss.

Really excited for training, sir, Roy says. Been looking forward to it all week.

I resist the urge to smack my palm against my forehead. Not for the first time, I wonder what is so moving about my father that could make a teenage boy into such a programmed robot. Maybe Roy shouldnt go in the water after all. It might ruin his circuits.

Dad gives me a curt nod as he examines my clothing choices. Finding nothing else to comment on, he continues down to assess Heather and Candace. At thirteen, theyre the only others old enough to participate in this particular task. Or young enough. The adults hold their cold-water survival in the river, having graduated from Doomsday Prepper 101 under the direction of my grandparents. By blood, I guess that makes me a third-generation misfit.

Dad nudges our shoulders as he returns to the far bank to observe. Take off any extra layers or youre wearing them in the water. The scenario begins in thirty seconds.

Im not sure if theres anything as embarrassing as having a parentally selected boyfriend, but stripping down to skintight leggings in front of all our neighbors has to come close. I avert my eyes as Roy peels off his jeans and folds them into a precise square. He tries to help me out of my sweatpants, but I hop away, glaring. Dont even think about it.

At Dads cue, the scream of a whistle pierces the quiet aura of anticipation hovering over us. Like swimmers launching from their starting blocks, Roy and the girls execute expert dives and plunge into the deepest part of the pond. I will my legs to move, but my muscles betray me.

Its only two months until I can run away to college and leave all of this behind. Somehow, knowing the wait is nearly over makes it harder to endure this nonsense, no matter how much Im conditioned to expect it by now. At least Ill have a great conversation starter at freshman orientation.