The Road Home

by Robert Boren

  “The woman is alive,” Greg said, getting down on his hands and knees and sneaking to her, pulling her legs carefully, dragging her out of sight of the windows. He looked in her eyes and she stared back at him, too terrified to speak.

  “Is she gonna live?” Kitten asked, rushing over.

  “I need to see the wounds,” Greg said.

  “Are you an EMT?” Trish asked.

  “Med student,” he said. “You?”

  “Nurse,” she said.

  “Me too,” Vanessa said. “Give me something to do and I’ll snap out of this.”

  “Help me check out the wounds, then,” Greg said. They peeled off the coat of her pant suit at the waist. “As I thought, this isn’t her blood. It’s his.”

  “Isaac,” she said, starting to come out of her shock. “Is he dead?”

  Greg looked her in the eye and nodded yes. “I’m sorry. Let’s check out the arm.”

  Vanessa and Kitten helped her out of the coat. Her blouse was sleeveless. Greg took a close look.

  “You’ll be fine,” he smiled at her, “It’s just a flesh wound.”

  “I’ll see if there’s a first aid kit in here,” Trish said, rushing into the room where the coffee maker was.

  “There’s one in the desk drawer, lower right-hand side,” the woman said. “First cubicle.”

  “What’s your name?” Vanessa asked.

  “Mary,” she said.

  “You hear that?” Greg asked.

  Trish nodded and went into that room.

  Gunfire outside was increasing, and there were more explosions. Kitten looked towards the front of the building, wishing she could see.

  “Who’s out there that you’re worried about?” Greg asked.

  “My dad and my boss,” she said.

  “Well, let them take care of themselves,” Greg said. “We’ve got enough to deal with right here. We need to help the people in that bus. Not all of them are dead.”

  Chapter 18 - Magdalena

  Jason was at the wheel of their motorhome, Carrie dozing in the passenger seat. The desert was lit by eerie light from the full moon.

  “There’s the sign for Magdalena,” he said. Carrie stretched, looking over at him. “Already?”

  “You’ve been snoozing for a while,” Jason said. “The munchkin’s been asleep for quite a while, too.”

  “How many people are stopping for gas?”

  “Most, probably,” Jason said. “It’s a bigger town. There’s two good-sized gas stations right on Highway 60. The tribe has already been through and gassed up. They’re ahead of us now by about half an hour.”

  “Thought you didn’t want to be separated.”

  “We talked. Stanton suggested they get ahead a little so we wouldn’t have too much of a line at the gas pumps. We’ll stay closer for the rest of the trip.”

  “Are we going into Texas after this? Straight through?”

  “We’ll talk about that,” he said. “It’s a five-hour drive from Magdalena to the first town in Texas, and it’ll take some time to blow that bridge.”

  “Clancy said he could do it in about twenty minutes,” Carrie said.

  “I’ll allow an hour,” Jason said, smiling at her. “We’ll trade off driving if we do this, and we’ll also need to help anybody who’s driving by themselves.”

  “I don’t think we have much of that. Clancy and a couple of tribal people are all I know about.”

  “Some of the tribe’s vehicles have four people in them,” Jason said. “I’m sure Stanton and White Eagle have already figured something out.”

  “Hope so,” Carrie said. “I got some sleep, so I can drive whenever you’re ready.”

  “There’s the first gas station. It’s got an open spot. I’m going in.” He pulled the rig up to one of the gas islands, moving forward as far as he could. Eric got on the other side of the island with his Class C motorhome.

  “Hey, brother,” Jason said as he went to his gas filler.

  “Hey yourself,” Eric said. They got the fuel flowing and leaned against the back of Jason’s rig.

  “Tired?” Jason asked.

  “I’m okay, and Kim’s been sleeping. We’re still going into Texas tonight, right?”

  “I’m for it. It’s not a short drive, though. Five hours not counting the bridge operation.”

  “There’s Curt,” Eric said, pointing at his rig as it rolled down the street. “He must be going on to the second gas station.”

  “There’s only two, right?”

  “Yeah, I think so,” he said. “Might be another back in town someplace. I didn’t look very hard. Both these are big stations.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Jason said.

  “You been listening to the news?” Eric asked. “The shit is hitting the fan big-time now that the apps are wide. There were gun battles going on in DC, at the Capitol, the White House, and the Pentagon. All three places have been overrun.”

  “Really?” Jason asked. “Haven’t had the radio on. Chelsea got too scared when we were listening to the reports about those nukes on the Mississippi, so we shut it off.”

  “Probably just as well,” Eric said. His pump clunked to a stop, and he pulled the nozzle out. “I’d better let somebody else get in here. We’re just going on?”

  “Yeah. Mine’s done too.” He pulled the nozzle out, nodding to Eric as he walked towards the cab. “See you soon, man.”

  “Later,” Jason said. He got his receipt from the pump and went back into the rig.

  “That was fast,” Carrie said.

  “We weren’t even close to empty. That was a top-up.”

  “Oh, yeah,” she said. “Off we go again, huh?”

  “Yep. You looked at the apps since you woke up?”

  “No, but I’ll do it now,” she said, reaching for her phone on the console, which she unplugged from the charge cord. “Good, full charge.”

  “We should plug mine in,” Jason said, fishing it out of his pocket. He handed it to Carrie and fired up the engine.

  “I can start driving now, if you want,” she said.

  “I’m still good. Later, after we do the bridge. That okay?”

  “Sure,” Carrie said. “No enemy close by. We’ll have to keep an eye out, though. Some are a little south of Albuquerque.”

  “I-25?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “Wonder if they’re being pursued by the locals now that everybody has the apps?”

  “If they’re going south, I’d bet on it.”

  “Probably right,” Carrie said, watching out the window as they passed the second gas station, several of their friends at the pumps or in line. “How far is this bridge?”

  “Look at the text message from Junior,” Jason said. “The GPS coordinates are there.”

  Carrie picked up his phone, inputting his pin and looking. She typed the numbers into her map program. “Okay, I see it. Not much of a bridge, but he’s right, there’s no easy ground to drive over as a detour.”

  “Can you tell how many miles?”

  She moved her fingers on the screen for a few moments. “Well, it’s only twenty-six miles to I-25, so I guestimate we’re talking about five miles, seven at the outside.”

  “Good,” Jason said. “Stanton Hunt and his folks should already be there, then.”

  “Want me to call him?”

  “Sure,” Jason said. “Put it on speaker.”

  She hit the contact on her phone. It rang a few times, then clicked.

  “Carrie?” Stanton asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “You’re on speaker. Jason’s driving.”

  “Hi, Stanton,” Jason said.

  “Hello. Was just about to call you. We’re already at the bridge. This is gonna be a piece of cake, but I want to move some boulders on the road so nobody rolls off the end from either direction.”

  “I’m good with that,” Jason said. “Don’t want to be killing any civilians.”

  “The other jobs we did were visible from
a long way off,” Stanton said. “This one won’t be, especially at night. I’ve got two of my guys rigging up charges already… oh, and Clancy is already here helping.”

  “He is? Didn’t know he was that far ahead. Good deal. How do you feel about going to Texas tonight?”

  “After seeing the enemy on I-25, I think we ought to.”

  “You saw them too, huh?” Carrie asked.

  “Yeah, I think they’re being chased. One of our guys was looking at a message board. The citizens of Albuquerque are hunting them with the apps. Sounds like they’ve killed a lot already. Maybe all this roadwork we’ve been doing won’t make much difference.”

  Jason chuckled. “I still want to do it, just in case. See you soon.”

  “Okay, my friend,” Stanton said. “This is only about fifteen minutes past the town, so it won’t be long.”

  The call ended, and Carrie picked the phone up again, putting it close to her face.

  “Checking the apps again?”

  She looked over and nodded yes. “I think they’re being killed on the road.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “There’s an ever-smaller number of icons the furthest south, and a trail of stationary ones behind them.”

  “What kind of numbers are we talking about?”

  “On the road?” Carrie asked.

  “In the lead on the road.”

  “Down to about forty,” she said. “There’s probably two hundred scattered on the road behind them. No reason for them to be sitting there if they’re alive.”

  “How about Albuquerque?”

  “I can’t really tell,” she said. “There’s about ten thousand hits there, but I haven’t seen any move since I woke from my nap.”

  “Probably dead or hiding,” Jason said.

  “I’d say some of both. Look, I see tail-light reflections. Way up ahead.”

  “Probably our friends,” Jason said. They continued rolling ahead silently for a while, getting closer and closer to the car lights.

  “There’s the bridge,” Jason said. “They’re all huddled around it. Everybody is parked past there.”

  “They’d better be,” Carrie said, smiling.

  “I’ll park on the westbound shoulder,” Jason said, crossing into the oncoming lane and pulling up, about fifty yards past the bridge.

  “Hey, isn’t this illegal?” Carrie smirked.

  He stood up and stretched. “No more illegal than blowing up a bridge.”

  “Funny,” she said. “I’ll stay here with Chelsea. You go ahead.”

  Jason nodded and went out the door, walking to the others. Stanton and White Eagle were sitting by the bridge with Clancy. They had boulders carried up to the side of the road. “Good, you’re all set,” Jason said.

  “Yep,” Stanton said.

  “Glad we don’t have to get the tanks off the flatbeds for this,” Clancy said. “That’s a pain in the neck.”

  “Speak of the devil,” White Eagle said, pointing to the approaching flatbeds. “Damn those things look huge.”

  “They are huge,” Clancy said.

  “You sure you got enough dynamite to blow this?” Jason asked.

  “Oh, yeah,” Clancy said. “No problema. Didn’t even use any of the plastic explosive. Thought we’d want it for the bridges by I-25 that the leadership team was talking about.”

  “Don’t think we need to do that,” Jason said. “I think we ought to forget it.”

  “Yes, I agree,” Stanton Hunt said. “Been watching the apps and talking to some of the warriors about the message boards. The people of Albuquerque are killing those invaders left and right. They’re even chasing them south on I-25 and killing them on the road.”

  “Same with west and eastbound I-40,” White Eagle said.

  “Serves the bastards right,” Clancy said.

  The tank flatbeds rolled by, getting to the end of the parked vehicles on the eastbound shoulder and pulling over to the side.

  “Hope that shoulder isn’t very soft,” White Eagle said. “Those suckers are heavy.”

  “You got that right, man,” Clancy said.

  “Here comes Curt,” Jason said. “Junior’s behind him, and several of the others.”

  “We’ll be done and on our way in no time,” Stanton said. The group watched as the rest of their friends rolled past the bridge.

  “That’s everybody,” Jason said.

  Clancy nodded. “I reckon it is. Shall we?”

  “Let’s do it,” Stanton said.

  Clancy picked up the detonator box and the wires sitting in the sand by his feet, walking back about sixty yards slowly as he felt for wires getting hung up. Then he twisted the wires on the terminals and tightened the nuts on each. “Ready?”

  “Hell yeah,” White Eagle said.

  He raised the plunger and shoved it down. The bridge blew up big, showering them with pebbles, a few larger rocks landing close to them.

  “Shit, we should’ve gotten back further,” Stanton said.

  “Maybe I used a tad too much dynamite,” Clancy said. “We’d better go check it and place those boulders.”

  The group ran back, seeing the bridge destroyed, jagged cement and rebar sticking out. They moved the boulders into place, two men on each of them, then turned to leave.

  “Hey, who’s that?” Clancy asked, pointing to approaching headlights. Two pickup trucks and a sheriff’s car squealed to a stop, several men jumping out, pointing guns at Jason and the others.

  “Drop your guns,” shouted a gruff-looking sheriff.

  Chapter 19 – The Swells

  “Where are they now, dude? You look worried.”

  Richardson was still sitting at the table with his laptop. He spoke to Juan Carlos without looking up. “They’re off Highway 46, and just got onto Cranes Mill Road. They’re definitely coming here.”

  “You going to call Wallis?” Brendan asked.

  “I’ve been texting him the whole time. This is happening all over the place. The main focus right now is Lewisville Lake in Dallas. Lot of people below that, plus there’s a big battle going on from the Trinity River park.

  “They’d better get the hell out of there if that dam goes, dude,” Juan Carlos said. “That riverbed fills up big time. Tall levies on either side.”

  Richardson nodded. “I’m not sure where the enemy is gonna hit the water, but I think we ought to get underway. It’s pretty obvious they’re going to the south side.”

  “Doesn’t matter which side,” Brendan said.

  “Honey, why don’t you take Madison and Hannah to shore in the small patrol boat?” Richardson asked Lita.

  “I’m not leaving,” she said. “I’m gonna fight. They know how to run the boat, if they want to leave.”

  “I’m not going anywhere either,” Madison said.

  “Same here,” Hannah said.

  Richardson nodded. “Okay, then let’s get the boats tied to the back of this beast and pull up the anchor.”

  “C’mon, man,” Brendan said, getting up.

  “Yeah,” Juan Carlos said. They both went outside, Hannah and Madison following them.

  “I’ll handle the anchor,” Harley said, going to the bow.

  “Do you think this is the right thing to do?” Lita asked. “You think Wallis would okay it?”

  “Not gonna mention it to Wallis,” Richardson said. “I don’t want them to destroy this lake. We need the water. You know how it gets around here, and we haven’t had much rain in the last couple years. We’re on the verge of a drought again.”

  “What if we don’t stop them?”

  “Then we’ll do what we did on Falcon Lake. We’ll make for shore, get stuck there as the water goes down. It’ll be scary, but we’ll probably survive it.”

  “Didn’t a bunch of boat crews die at Falcon Lake?”

  “Yeah, but we didn’t know what to expect,” Richardson said. “C’mon, let’s move this laptop up to the bridge and get the engines started. I suspect
we’ll have to jockey a little to get the anchor pulled up.”

  She nodded, watching as Richardson picked up the laptop, then followed him down the hallway to the bridge.

  “Keep on the apps with your phone, okay?” Richardson asked. “We need to know which road they take. It’ll tell us what cove they’re going to.”

  “Will do,” she said. They rushed through the door into the bridge, Richardson setting up the laptop on a table against the back wall, then getting into the pilot’s seat. He hit the engine ignition and all four outboards started. The floor vibrated as they idled.

  Harley stuck his head in the side door. “The anchor is already on its way up. It wasn’t stuck very tight. Surprised it was holding us.”

  “Calm waters,” Richardson said. “How are the others doing?”

  “I think they’re just about done, but I’ll go check. You want us on the roof, or do you want us in the bridge?”

  “I think Juan Carlos and Brendan ought to be on the roof,” Richardson said. “The visibility will be crucial.”

  “Okay, good,” Harley said. “How about me?”

  “In here, but ready to get on the deck if we need it,” he said. “Oh, I know something you can do. Start carrying belts of mini-gun ammo up to the top, and get those things loaded.”

  Brendan and Juan Carlos rushed up the deck, with Madison and Hannah trying to keep up.

  “We all set back there?” Harley asked.

  “Yep,” Brendan said. “We’ll help with the ammo.”

  “Grab some of those M19 grenade belts,” Juan Carlos said.

  “Where do you guys want us?” Madison asked.

  “In the bridge, watching the gun sights,” Richardson said, “but don’t flip the control switch while Brendan and Juan Carlos are up there.”

  Brendan made eye contact with Richardson and mouthed thank you.