The Road Home

by Robert Boren

  “Yeah, he said she was living under martial law, and the citizens were getting real antsy.”

  “I hope they get more than antsy,” Kim said.

  “Well thanks for the call, man,” Eric said.

  “No problem. We’re going almost fifty now. Probably faster than you guys are going.”

  “It is,” Eric said. “See you soon. Watch out for those scavengers. Don’t stop for anybody.”

  “Oh, we all discussed that, believe me.”

  “Good,” Eric said.

  The call ended.

  “Feel better?” Kim asked.

  “I’ll feel a whole lot better when I can see them,” he said.

  “Because of what happened to Carrie and Kate?”

  “Of course.”

  “Can’t say that I blame you,” she said, patting her lap. Paco appeared, tail wagging. He jumped up and turned around twice before settling in.

  “That dog loves you,” Eric said.

  “Yes, he does,” she said, petting his head. “We’re getting close to I-40. I think it’s only another twenty minutes.”

  “Then we’re on I-40 for another ten minutes, right?”

  “Give or take,” she said. “It’s actually not bad that Route 66 is so close. We can run the tanks over from there.”

  “I figured we’d just pull up to the bridges and stop right on I-40.”

  “We might, I suppose,” she said, “or a combination of the two.”

  “Yeah.”

  They rode silently for a while, Eric’s mind racing, thinking of all the things which could go wrong. The sight of Kate wounded on the blacktop kept playing out in his mind. Not Kim. He glanced at her, and saw her staring.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” she said. “I see the gears turning in your head.”

  “Just going over what we’re about to do,” he said.

  “This isn’t a battle. You looked scared.”

  He sighed. “Okay, okay. I keep seeing Kate lying there with Kyle kneeling next to her, and it really messes me up.”

  “She’s okay,” Kim said.

  “I know, thank God,” he said, glancing at her again, eyes misting.

  “You’re afraid I’ll get hit,” she said softly, “but Eric, this isn’t a battle.”

  “I know, but we’ve got so many battles coming. Nasty ones.”

  “Honey, you can’t get yourself into this mindset. We’ll be okay or we won’t. Worrying about it now isn’t gonna help. We’ve come through a lot already. We’ll be fine.”

  “I know,” he said. “I keep telling myself that, but then the images pop into my head.”

  “There’s I-40,” she said. “See, the front of the caravan is turning already.”

  “Forty-five seems like slow motion,” he said, trying to pull himself out of his thoughts.

  “Like you said, it’ll save gas.”

  Eric nodded, his eyes hitting the rearview mirror. He smiled.

  “What?” Kim asked.

  “Our friends are back there. Chance is right behind us. Wow, that’s a big bulldozer.”

  “Good,” Kim said. “See, I told you it’d be okay.”

  They made the turn onto I-40. Kim’s phone rang.

  “Carrie,” she said, hitting the speaker button.

  “Hey, Carrie, what’s up?”

  “Is that the others behind you?” Carrie asked.

  “Yep,” Kim said. “We just saw them. Eric’s been worried.”

  “I could imagine. Jason’s been grinding his teeth for half an hour at least.”

  “Oh, please,” Jason’s muffled voice said. Eric laughed.

  “What’s that big truck?” Carrie asked. “I don’t recognize it.”

  “Long story,” Kim said.

  “We’ve got time,” Carrie replied.

  “Okay, guess you’re right.” She told the story.

  “It might be good to have a big bulldozer like that,” Jason said.

  “I was thinking the same thing, man,” Eric said. “Sounds like this guy wants to be involved.”

  “We’ll talk to him,” Jason said.

  “I’d better get off the phone and plug it in,”

  Carrie said.

  “Okay, talk to you soon,” Kim said, ending the call.

  “How close are we?” Eric asked.

  She looked at her phone GPS. “Less than five minutes.”

  “Good,” Eric said. “I’ll be glad when the roads are destroyed.”

  “You and me both.”

  The caravan picked its way down I-40 towards the target bridges, the lead vehicles getting themselves there in a hurry.

  “We’re a long way back,” Kim said.

  “Yep,” Eric said. “Been on the apps lately?”

  “I’ll check now, she said, reaching for her phone, knocking Paco off her lap in the process.

  “You were right. I see the tank flat beds heading onto old Route 66.”

  “Really?” she said. “Probably to let us get closer. We need to be on this side of the bridges so we can turn around.”

  “Too bad we can’t just make for I-25. I saw a small road we could go down.”

  “I saw that. There’s no gas stations there for too long. We’d run out.”

  “Probably why Junior didn’t bring it up,” Eric said.

  “We’ve got some west-bound movement of enemy fighters on I-40,” Kim said.

  “You don’t look concerned about that.”

  “They’re a long way off,” Kim said. “We should be able to get our job done and be back on Highway 117 before they get this far.”

  “Hope you’re right.”

  “I’m sure everybody else has seen it,” Kim said.

  “The RVs are crossing over the center median and getting on the westbound side of I-40.”

  “Good,” Kim said.

  “Well, we’re moving anyway,” he said. They rolled slowly to the nice even spot on the median where everybody was turning, getting onto the westbound side and pulling up to the end of the line in the right-hand lane. Clancy’s pickup and the truck pulling the bulldozer kept going, crossing over to Route 66. Stanton Hunt and Chance parked behind Eric. They got out just as Dirk was walking over, pulling a cart with plastic explosives and detonating equipment. Cindy was with him.

  “Hey, guys,” Dirk said. “We need to hurry. You see those enemy slugs coming this way from Albuquerque?”

  “Yeah, we saw them,” Kim said. “They’re pretty far away.”

  “It’s only about forty guys, too,” Cindy said. “We still need to haul ass, though. We can only go forty-five with the damn tank flatbeds.”

  “You’re forgetting something, honey,” Dirk said.

  “I am?”

  “Yeah, we’re going to ruin the road. They’ll be on the wrong side of it.”

  “Oh,” she said. “True, but if they’re in four-wheel drive vehicles, they’ll get past that.”

  “Good point,” Eric said. “I’ll help you guys. Done some of this before too.”

  “I think I’ll hang out here, if that’s okay,” Kim said. “Maybe I’ll go keep Carrie company.”

  “Mind if I join you?” Cindy asked.

  “Not at all,” Kim said. They walked west on the road, towards Jason and Carrie’s motor home, passing Jason, Curt, Junior, Kelly, and others on the way.

  “Clancy has the dynamite in his truck, right?” Eric asked as they walked.

  “Yep, but we might not need that here,” Dirk said. “We still have those bridges near I-25 and Route 60.”

  “True that,” Eric said. The others caught up to them.

  “Hey, brother,” Eric said to Jason, who nodded back to him.

  “What’s up, pencil neck?” Curt asked, grinning at him. “Ready to blow some shit up?”

  “Damn straight,” Eric said.

  They were walking on Route 66, eyeing the black volcanic rock between that road and I-40.

  “These rock fo
rmations will keep vehicles from going around our mess on I-40,” Curt said, “but I’m a little worried about Route 66. This road is better than I thought.”

  “It’s starting to curve away from I-40 now,” Jason said. “We should be able to see the demolition team when we get past this.”

  “Hey, look up ahead,” Eric said. “There’s a bridge on Route 66! An old weak looking one, too.”

  “Well I’ll be damned,” Curt said. “I thought that was just a guard rail.”

  “We can blow that easy,” Eric said. “Not a good way around that.”

  “Well first things first,” Jason said as they walked across the small metal bridge. “See what we’ve got to deal with on I-40? That’s not going to be easy.”

  “Seriously,” Curt said. “That’s thick concrete tunnels, basically. We’ll need a lot of explosive. The tanks aren’t going to be able to handle it. They could probably blow this small bridge with one shot.”

  They got to the main team, who were discussing if they should get the tanks off the flatbeds or not.

  “I wouldn’t underestimate the cannons on those M-1s,” Hollis said, brushing his long gray hair away from his face, his wicker cowboy had holding the top of it down.

  “I’m thinking we ought to load the thing up with dynamite or plastic explosive,” Clancy said, “but the tanks are worth a try.”

  “It takes a fair amount of time to get the tanks on and off the flat beds, and we’ve got enemy on the way,” Francis said, standing next to White Eagle.

  “I suggest we try the tanks alone, and hurry up about it,” Jason said as he walked up. “You guys see that bridge back there on Route 66?”

  “Yeah, I thought that was just guard rail,” Francis said, shaking his head with a smile. “We’ll make short work of that sucker.”

  “C’mon, let’s get the tanks off, then,” White Eagle said. “Try a couple of shots. If it looks like we can chew through without using up all our ammo, we ought to do it.”

  “I agree,” Eric said.

  The men jumped into action, unhooking the heavy chains holding down the tanks.

  “Glad we were able to fix the third one,” Clancy said. “Wish we still had the fourth.”

  “Seriously,” Dirk said. “Okay, this one is un-hooked. You can bring her down.”

  “We’ve got this one unhooked too,” Francis said from the second flat bed. The third one was un-hooked within a few more minutes.

  “We should use what we’ve learned,” Jason said. “Aim all three and fire at once.”

  The first tank fired up its engine, backing off slowly.

  “Be careful on this rock,” White Eagle said.

  “Don’t take these off the road,” Francis said. “Getting closer isn’t going to help. These bridges are well within range.”

  “He’s right,” Curt said. “It’s a shame we couldn’t just leave them on the damn trailers.”

  “That would knock the flat beds on their sides,” Hollis said. “Trust me.”

  “Oh, almost forgot,” Clancy said. He introduced Hollis to the others.

  “I’ve heard great things about you guys,” Hollis said. “Glad to be with you for this little operation.”

  “Good to have you,” Jason said.

  The tanks were off the trailers within five minutes.

  Francis was looking at his phone. “Hey, guys, let’s pick this up,” he said. “The enemy is speeding up. They’ll be here in less than an hour.”

  “Let’s get a team planting charges on the Route 66 bridge,” Jason said.

  “I’ll work that,” Clancy said.

  “Me too,” Dirk said.

  They trotted off as the tanks all aimed at the bridge.

  “That bridge isn’t as thick as it looked like,” Curt said. “This might work.”

  Suddenly there was an ear-splitting roar as the three tanks fired, about half the length of the eastbound side of I-40 falling down.

  “Hell, that cut it down to less than one lane!” White Eagle shouted, looking through his binoculars.

  “Hit it again,” Curt shouted.

  The three tanks fired, and the remaining part of the eastbound road fell.

  “Hey, there’s water in that river!” White Eagle said. “It’s backing up behind the rubble.”

  “One down, one to go,” Curt said, as the three tanks fired again, this time taking a chunk of the westbound side down.

  “This is way easier than I expected,” Jason said.

  The three tanks fired again, taking all but the far side guard rail down.

  “We should use just one to finish that,” Francis said. “Maybe we should get the other two tanks back on the flat beds.”

  White Eagle nodded and trotted over to the tanks, passing the message on. Then one tank fired, taking the last piece of bridge down.

  “Yes!” Jason shouted. “Okay, let’s get these things loaded.”

  “Yeah, let’s haul ass,” Francis said. “Those enemy vehicles are really pushing, and it takes longer to put the tanks on those damn flatbeds than it does to get them off.”

  “Drive the tanks on the other side of the Route 66 bridge,” Curt shouted. “We can load them over there, so if it takes too long, we’ll be in a place the enemy can’t reach.”

  “That’s a good idea,” White Eagle said. He passed the word. The tanks took off west on Route 66, the flatbeds struggling to turn, but making it and heading towards the bridge.

  “We’ve got a good flood going down there,” Francis said, pointing to the water backing up.

  “Good, then it’ll make it hard even for off-roaders to get through,” Jason said. “C’mon, let’s get back and see if we can help the others with the small bridge.”

  The big truck pulling the bulldozer passed the Route 66 bridge, along with the other few vehicles who were there.

  Hollis stopped, looking at Route 66 for a moment. “Hey, see what we have next to the eastbound lane there? Somebody could drive that if there wasn’t water in the river, and we just made a dam.”

  “Shit, you’re right,” Jason said, looking at it.

  “Hey, we can blow this thing any time,” Clancy said, climbing up on the road with Dirk, stringing wires for the detonator.

  “Wait,” Hollis shouted. “We need to take the bulldozer on the other side and stop that up, or people will just drive through that wash there.”

  “Told you,” Dirk said.

  “There was a fair amount of water,” Clancy said.

  “Yeah, there will be some again, but when we broke the I-40 bridges it slowed the stream to a trickle,” Jason said.

  Hollis stood on the east side of the bridge. “I can use the Bulldozer to shove that guardrail over. That’ll block things up by itself, but I’ll knock some of those boulders down over there and bring them too. Should only take me ten minutes.”

  “Then let’s get on it, because the enemy will be here quick,” Francis said, still looking at his phone screen. “They’re really hauling ass. It’s like they can see what we’re doing.”

  “Okay,” Hollis said, running to his dozer. He and some others got it unhooked from the trailer, and he backed it off quickly, turning it east and rolling across the bridge. He pushed the guardrail with the scoop, the metal moaning, breaking loose from the timbers and slowly bending, blocking the path.

  “That worked well,” Eric said.

  “Yeah, but it’ll be too easy to fix,” Hollis shouted. He went to the stone wall next to the road and poked at it with the scoop, dust falling as the boulders wiggled. Then he backed up and moved forward, slamming into the wall, breaking a large chunk loose, which he pushed with the scoop over to the bent guard rail. He went back for more.

  “They’re getting close!” Francis shouted. “Let’s speed this up!”

  Hollis nodded and knocked another large boulder off the wall, which fell with a crash and rolled into a place that the dozer couldn’t reach.

  “Dammit,” Curt said.

  “I’
ll try again,” Hollis shouted, breaking off another big piece of rock, which fell in a place he could reach. He moved it to the bent guardrail.

  “That’s gonna have to do it,” Francis shouted. “They’ll be in sight any minute, and they’ll probably start shooting.”

  “Roger that,” Hollis yelled, driving quickly back across the bridge. Clancy jumped into his large truck and pulled it and the trailer further from the bridge, the rest of them men running across, getting a safe distance away.

  “Okay, blow it, Clancy!” Jason shouted.

  “Fire in the hole!” Clancy shouted, pushing the plunger. Nothing.

  “Son of a bitch,” Dirk said.

  “Wait, it’s just a loose wire on the terminal,” Clancy said.

  “Well fix it, pencil neck!” Curt said, eyes scanning the east.

  “Fire in the hole again!” Clancy shouted. He pushed down the plunger and the bridge exploded into twisted metal and debris, falling onto the river bed below.

  A shot rang out, hitting the dirt next to one of the tank flatbeds.

  “Crap, get some M60s up there,” Eric said, grabbing his BAR and rushing to the end of the broken road. He laid down and aimed, firing a few short bursts, hitting a pickup truck that was barreling down Route 66 towards them.

  There was the squealing of tires up on I-40, a troop transport truck trying to stop before it went over the edge. It couldn’t stop in time, falling into the riverbed below, exploding into flames, which were put out by the raging water around the broken pieces of the road.

  “Those tanks loaded yet?” Jason shouted.

  “Almost,” White Eagle shouted back, Stanton Hunt next to him, fastening the chains on the last of the flat beds. Another shot rang out, a bullet hitting the tank. Curt and Eric answered the fire with their BAR and M60, strafing Route 66 to the east. Francis rushed over and fired at Islamists getting out of their troop transports on the east side of the ruined I-40 bridge.

  “Those guys are gonna come after us on foot,” Curt shouted. “We almost ready to go?”

  “Yeah,” Stanton Hunt yelled. “Send a message to the others to get going.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Jason yelled back, sending a broadcast text. Then he ran back to the vehicles, Curt, Francis, and Eric running to catch up, all of them jumping on vehicles to ride back to the main group. They got far enough away to be safe from enemy fire in a couple minutes.