by North, Geoff
The young man shook his head. “That’s difficult, buddy. There aren’t many vehicles left running, and what fuel there is available has been confiscated by the military... I mean us.” He grinned and patted his chest.
Caitlan studied the young soldier. She realized they started them out at an early age, but the skinny kid standing in front of them with the AK-47 strapped to his back was probably too young to drive. The uniform was too large on his narrow frame, and his hair was poking out from under his helmet. Soldier boys didn’t go around looking this unkempt, nuclear Armageddon or not.
She could see that Hayden was suspicious as well. “Come on... we have children waiting. What’s a few gallons going to hurt?”
“Talk to Sergeant Jeffrey in Supply.” He pointed to one of the many tents lining main street. “It’s the one with the flaps closed. I can’t guarantee he’ll say yes, but if you tell him you’re bringing those kids and that vehicle into town anyway...”
They went to the supply tent. Hayden walked backwards most of the way, staring at the soldier that had given them directions.
“The boy probably hasn’t had to shave a day in his life yet,” Caitlan said.
“He seems familiar.”
Jeffrey didn’t appear much older than the soldier outside. He was seated behind two picnic tables pushed together at the ends, covered with white banquet paper. There were stacks of files in plastic trays on either side of him, and every other square inch of table surface was cluttered with boxes containing essential survival supplies; first-aid kits, flashlights, batteries, and cases of drinking water. Almost everything people needed to live on that didn’t require being plugged in were on those tables or piled up behind him. “Sorry, guys. I can’t spare any fuel to civilians. What kind of vehicle did you say it was you’re driving?”
“I didn’t,” Caitlan replied. “It’s an Audi A8, bought it new less than five months ago.”
He whistled. “Wow, that’s one hell of a car. We’re used to seeing old clunkers still running. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to give you a litre or two, you know, just enough to get it here.” He started to laugh. “I can think of a couple higher ups that’ll fight over it.”
What kind of army is this? Hayden wondered. They offer food and cover, but expect people to willingly hand over everything they have left?”
Caitlan glowered at him. “We weren’t planning on staying.”
“Suit yourself. Feel free to walk back there and starve to death. No gas.”
Caitlan placed her fists on the table’s edge and leaned forward. It creaked under the added weight. “Are you fucking serious? You’d let kids die six miles out rather than give us a little bit of gasoline?”
“It’s a hard world out there, lady. It’s going to get a lot harder. Now please back your fat ass away from the table.”
Hayden pulled her away and spoke before she could release her temper any further. “Listen, you don’t have to be like that. We’ll bring the car to Brayburne... we’ll stay here and help out however we can.”
Caitlan turned to him and he squeezed her arm. It was a simple signal, one she caught onto immediately. Go along with it, I have an idea.
Jeffrey’s eyes narrowed, and he grinned. His teeth were too small for his mouth, and the effect made him look more rodent than human. “You think I was born yesterday? I’m just going to give you a few litres, and you’re going to walk out of here?” He pushed away from the table and stood. “We go together... and I’m driving that Audi back here.”
A replacement was found to take his station in the supply tent and he led them into a field behind Brayburne’s single grocery store. He waved an arm through the air in front of him, taking the wide expanse completely in. “I heard from some of the locals they’d planned on building a bigger grocery store. This whole area was bought up for the expansion. Over ten acres dedicated to the new building and parking lot.”
Almost all ten acres was covered with cars. Row after row after row of parked vehicles. Caitlan counted less than half of the first line directly in front of them and gave up at forty. The rows behind seemed to go on forever.
“We’ve confiscated thirty-one hundred and ten,” Jeffrey said. “Your car will make it thirty-one hundred and eleven.”
It looked like a used car salesman’s wet dream. Most of the vehicles were old, produced in the nineteen-seventies and earlier, but there were a few newer models. Caitlan walked up to the front end of a cream-colored Volkswagen Beetle and touched the hood. It was an ’09, maybe even a 2010. Caitlan loved cars, but she couldn’t be sure. There were two rusty Pontiacs sitting next to it, and a Mercedes-Benz CLS beyond those. She went to it and looked in through the driver’s window. A 2018, Caitlan was sure because she’d almost bought one. The fact her Audi had been available in black at the time was the main reason she hadn’t gone with CLS.
Sergeant Jeffrey was standing behind her. “A few of the newer German models weren’t affected by the EMPs. I’d say almost a quarter of them are still running, yours included.”
She turned to him. “Why have you confiscated them? What right do you have to take people’s cars away?”
“We can’t have the survivors roaming around wasting gas. It’s for their own safety as well. We treat everyone for radiation sickness, and keep them fed. They’re safe here... you’ll be safe here.”
“We’ll be controlled here.”
Jeffrey shrugged and pulled some keys out of a pocket. “Follow me.” He took them down the first row and met up with a hulking guard leaning against the hood of an ancient Buick. “You want to go for a ride, Fred? These two have an Audi on empty just a little ways east, got kids waiting to be picked up.”
Hayden wasn’t listening; his attention had been diverted by a by a big green tank sitting on the other side of a chain link fence next to the Buick. He had seen less than a handful of the military machines in his life, so he was no expert, but this one looked familiar. His fingers wrapped around the metal links and squeezed. “Where did this come from?”
“Why?” Sergeant Jeffrey asked. “You like tanks?”
“No. I just want to know.”
The big guard watching over the northwest corner of the compound answered. “Showed up yesterday, driven by a bunch of civvies. They said they came across it and a few other army vehicles in Ontario just a few miles from the Manitoba border.”
“But where did the tank come from originally... what about the soldiers in charge of it?”
Fred shrugged. “They said it had been abandoned. Found it in a ditch still running. Not a bad bunch of guys... young and stupid, but at least they turned the vehicles in when they reached Brayburne.”
Hayden pictured the soldier they’d spoken to in town—the one that had given them directions to the supply tent. Then he remembered the idiot that had urinated onto the burning debris of a blown up car. He saw his horse, riddled with bullet holes, lying in the muddy front yard of Elton MacDonald’s farm.
“These guys... most of them are still in Brayburne?”
“Well, yeah. Where the hell else would they go? Like I said, they’re not a bad bunch. They even offered to help out, so command put them uniforms and they got field commissions.”
“You ask a lot of stupid questions,” Jeffrey said. “Are we going for that car of yours or not?”
Caitlan climbed into the backseat with Hayden. She could see by the sunken look on his face that his plans had been drastically altered—or perhaps it was something else? She leaned close to him, pretending to search for a seatbelt, and whispered in his ear. “This is still on. You take the big one when we get the chance, I’ll handle rat-face.”
They set away from Brayburne, checking in and getting clearance with two more guards on the eastern end of town. Fred turned in his seat, planted his thick forearm on the bench seat’s cracked upholstery, and started talking to the new arrivals. “An Audi, hey? I had an ’03 once, the fenders were rusted right through, but that thing never broke down. Good milea
ge.”
Caitlan stared out her window. “What happened to it?”
“My nagging wife made me trade it in on a mini-van.”
“Yeah... women. We’re all bitches, aren’t we?”
“I never said that.” Fred looked away from Caitlan and stared at Sergeant Jeffrey. He was laughing. “You think that’s funny? At least I had a wife. What was your excuse, Sparky?”
Jeffrey glared at him. “Do not call me that. I’m ranking officer here.”
“Why do you call him Sparky?” Hayden asked.
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to say.” Fred held his hands up in mock fear. “Take my advice, though... Do not piss Sparky—I mean Sergeant Fartel Jeffrey off.”
The sergeant slammed on the car’s brakes. “How many fucking times have I told you to never use my first name? How many fucking times?” Jeffrey put the Buick into park and thrust his finger inches from the bigger man’s face. “All you fucking assholes think you’re so goddamned fucking funny!” A pulsing vein had appeared at the center of his forehead and a line of spit was stuck to his chin.
Fred grinned into the backseat. “See what I mean? We call him Sparky for that temper of his—one little spark is all it takes.”
“I’m reporting this when we get back.” The sergeant started driving again. “I’m sick of this shit... the disrespect... the total disregard of rank. Just because a bunch of bombs wiped out almost everything, doesn’t give you or any of those other assholes the right to talk to me like that. I’m fucking telling as soon as we get back. You’ll see.”
No one else said a word for the next five minutes as Fartel drove and threatened. Fred grinned at Caitlan and Hayden with raised eyebrows the entire way. The Audi was still parked on the shoulder of the highway. Michael and Amanda were sitting on the hood with Nicholas squeezed between them.
Hayden saw Angela appear from around the back end. She made her way to the front passenger side and started opening the door. Hayden shook his head as they exited the Buick. No, don’t go for the gun, not yet.
“Three rug rats,” Fartel observed as he went to look the Audi over. “Glad to see they’re good and healthy. They’ll be plenty to keep them busy in Brayburne.”
Hayden introduced them to the two soldiers and explained the situation. The twins nodded glumly, slid off the car, planted their hands in the pockets of their track pants, and stared at the ground. Nicholas remained on the hood, pushing an empty water back and forth between his legs. He looked at Jeffrey expectantly. “You got hotdogs and ice cream there?”
The sergeant was running his fingers along the car, walking slowly around it. “No hotdogs, kid. And all the ice cream was eaten in the first week. You’ll have to settle for whatever rations are provided.” The little boy looked disappointed, and went back to his bottle game. Jeffrey ended his walk-around inspection of the Audi with a kick to the front tire. Caitlan made a grunting sound. It was how most ignorant people judged a car’s merit. He glared at her. “This vehicle is actually yours? You paid with real money?”
Hayden braced for the inevitable attack. She would break his nose for that, and maybe worse. Caitlan simply nodded. “The money seemed real enough to the dealer... Sergeant.”
She’d almost called him Sparky. Or Fartel. Either one would have sent him into a rage.
Jeffrey nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, Fred, let’s get her fuelled up.”
The big guard went to the back of the Buick. Jeffrey threw him the keys and he opened the trunk. He leaned in to grab one of the four full gas containers, and Hayden nodded to Caitlan and Angela simultaneously.
Caitlan smiled the biggest smile Hayden had ever seen. “Hey, Sparky... you buck-toothed little cocksucker. Get your greasy fingers off my car.”
“What... did... you... say to me?”
Hayden went and stood behind Fred who was still bent over inside the trunk. “You need a hand?”
“Damned cap’s stuck on the underside. I can manage.” He yanked at the container and it came free. Just before his head was clear, Hayden slammed the trunk lid down. The edge of it caught the back of the man’s neck. The lid bounced back up, and the guard spilled down onto the ground, gasping for air and clutching at his partially crushed windpipe.
Caitlan could move fast considering her size. She didn’t go for the sergeant’s nose—she went for his balls. Her big leg shot up and her foot disappeared into the baggy crumple of pants collected around his crotch. He dropped to his knees making a wheezing noise that sounded like air being forced through hole-ridden newspaper. She slapped the side of his face with enough force to knock him down onto his back. Caitlan wasn’t finished. She sat on his stomach, pushing the last little bit of air from his lungs. “Is this car actually mine?” She broke his nose with the first punch. “Did I use real money to pay for it?” She knocked out four of his teeth with the second.
Angela pulled her off before she could bust the rest out. “Okay... you made your point.” Michael and Amanda were back up on the car hood, huddled against Nicholas. The boy was crying.
“Fucking weasely little bitch,” Caitlan said, glaring at the unconscious soldier. “You okay back there, Hayden?”
“I... I think he’s dying.”
Fred the car-compound security guard was on his elbows and knees, crawling around on the pavement and coughing up blood. Caitlan squatted down beside him and rubbed his back. “Can you breathe, sweetie?”
Fred nodded and rasped. “Hurs real bah... Cank swallow...”
“You’ll live.” She grabbed the back of his skull and pounded his forehead into the highway. The rest of him collapsed down into unconsciousness. Caitlan stood back up. Angela and Hayden had horrified expressions on their faces. “Don’t go looking at me like that. These two have to sleep for a few hours if we’re going to try and make a clean getaway.”
“A clean getaway?” Angela stumbled from one sleeping soldier to the next. “What did the two of you do in that town, rob a bank?”
“You saw how they were,” Hayden protested. “Brayburne’s locked down tight with guys like this running the place. They would’ve taken the car and forced us to stay.”
“And that would’ve been worse than driving aimlessly across the country?”
Caitlan and Hayden stared at each other guiltily. Caitlan shook her head. “You weren’t there, you didn’t see the condition people were in. They were staying in dirty tents... being forced to work for water and food. It was goddamned pathetic.”
Angela threw her hands into the air. “What do you expect the army to do in conditions like this?” Nicholas was crying harder, and the twins were squeezing him tighter. “The world we knew is gone! I think we should give Brayburne a chance.”
Caitlan pushed at Sergeant Jeffrey’s shoulder with the tip of her shoe. “I don’t think Brayburne’s going to give us a second chance.”
Angela ran her fingers through her short grey hair. “We can’t keep running like this... We have to find a home for these kids.”
Hayden had finished dragging Fred into the ditch. “There’s bad people staying there. A lot of the men in uniform aren’t really soldiers. Trust me, I know.” Caitlan helped him do the same with Fartel. “Get that gas put in the car and let’s get the hell out of here.”
Chapter 10
Nicholas wanted to drive with Hayden in the Buick, but Hayden forced him to ride in the Audi with all the others. Caitlan fired her car back up and lowered the window to talk with Hayden one last time before setting off. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Hayden adjusted his shirt. It was a good fit. “Take the first gravel road ahead and turn north. Go ten miles or so, and turn west onto Highway 16. About six miles after that you’re going to turn onto Highway 83 and start driving north again. There’s a big gravel pit on the east side of the highway not much further. Wait for me there. If I’m not back with you guys by midnight, keep heading north. Find something... somewhere. Take care of the children.”
“Don’t do this, you
big fool,” Caitlan said. “That boy in the back seat needs you more than he needs the rest of us.”
Hayden leaned down and smiled at his son. He gave him the thumbs up. “I have to see this through. I can’t just let it be.”
“She’s right,” Angela said. “We really should stick together.”
And you really should mind your own business. You’ve never lost a horse before, so what would you know about it?
Angela slid back into her seat and shut her eyes. Caitlan drove away.
Hayden went and sat in the dead grass next to the laid out soldiers. One of them would hopefully regain consciousness in the next few hours. He would need more information before setting out on his own.
It was Fartel that woke first, for which Hayden was grateful. He didn’t think Fred would be all that cooperative after almost decapitating the man. Hayden pressed his knee into the sergeant’s throat. “The men that brought the tank into town... where are they staying?”
He tried spitting into Hayden’s face, but it was impossible with so many missing teeth. Hayden jammed the knee in harder. “Tell me.”
“Last... tent. Last tent on the... west end of Main Street... it’s where all the... aack.” Hayden lifted his knee. “Where all the... new recruits stay. Now help me up, you fucking—”
He punched him in the center of the forehead. Jeffrey’s bloodshot eyes crossed inwards and shut again. Hayden no longer cared if he lived or died. He took the keys from the trunk lock and started the Buick. He sprayed the men with flying gravel and headed back for Brayburne.
***
Fred Walleyes woke up three hours later. The sky above was a blistering shade of pink and orange. The sky had been doing all kinds of crazy shit since the attack. Some days it was grey, others it was brown. He never saw blue anymore. Sunsets were even crazier—not that he’d seen the sun for weeks, but the erratic evening colors it still produced, like the one overhead now, were nightmarish. His throat ached. His forehead was throbbing. He finally managed to sit up, and discovered he was only wearing his boxer shorts and socks.