Compared to the squalid living conditions of their previous year, the truck seemed obscenely luxurious. It had a large, full fuel tank as well as several reserve cans; their fuel worries were now history. It also carried a modest store of snacks and drinks. Everything was frozen solid but Larry used the truck’s electric heater to turn frozen canned coffee into a piping hot liquid, their first in more than a year. It was a generic brand from the supermarket, but it tasted more delicious than anything they could remember. Everyone sipped their drink slowly, savoring each mouthful, and swallowing with reluctance. Then they attacked the quickly thawing nuts, crisps, chocolate, and other snacks. “I never knew junk food could taste so heavenly!” Anna said.
“Okay, what now?” Larry said, when the first wave of gastronomic ecstasy had abated and everyone was sitting back in the special warm glow that comes from satisfying a long-denied appetite. “Do we take the fuel back with us to Entry? Or shall we head straight to town?”
“To town!” said Jessica.
Nobody challenged her.
“No offence, Larry, but I think I’ve had as much of the Shell as I can take in this lifetime,” said Anna. “I vote we go into town and, like, never look back.”
Larry joined in the laughter. “No offence taken! I feel the same. Besides, we’ve been lucky with the chopper so far. What if it doesn’t start tomorrow, and we’re stranded on the other side?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Town
Other than the muted sunlight that infused everything with an orange glow, their drive to town felt rather normal at first. The terrain didn’t look much different from what they remembered from the pre-Shroud days. It had been a hot desert then; it was a cold one now. Larry drove slowly while the girls kept a wary eye for cracks in the road. It was only when they turned into the main road near Balindoo that the familiarity evaporated. What should have been a bustling highway was now dead silent. Stalled and abandoned vehicles cluttered their path, many with drivers and passengers still inside. Some of the people were huddled into positions that suggested the horror of their final moments, but the majority appeared strangely calm and lifelike.
“Oh, dear God,” said Elizabeth. “This is appalling.”
“Why did so many of them end up in their cars?” Anna said.
“Unheated homes,” said Jessica grimly.
“Yes, I think so too,” said Larry. “Initially, their cars with the engines running and heat on would’ve been warmer. At some point, the engines would’ve stopped, and then it would’ve been too cold to leave the car.”
“It dropped from minus 20 to minus 100 in a few hours,” said Jessica. “No time to go anywhere and nowhere to go.”
“How appalling,” said Elizabeth. “How terrible to be stuck in their cars, to freeze to death like that.”
“One consolation,” said Nicole. “At those temperatures, they wouldn’t have suffered too long. Death would have been swift.”
At first the family stopped at every vehicle they saw and bemoaned the fate of its passengers.
“I feel almost guilty at having survived,” Elizabeth said.
“If I see anyone I know, I’ll want to die,” said Anna.
“I wish I could grab the Shroud by the neck and wring it slowly, painfully,” Jessica growled.
Everyone felt the same futile mix of guilt, anger, and sorrow. This weighed them down so much that, at some point, the had to avert their eyes from the carnage around them. As they drove on toward Simpsonville, the family’s morale gradually returned.
“I could use a limerick session,” Jessica said.
“Me too,” said Anna. “Along with some booze.”
Nicole and Elizabeth echoed the girls’ sentiments.
“That’s the spirit,” said Larry. “We can’t avoid seeing such terrible sights, but we’ve got to stay upbeat.”
Progress was slow. Several times during their journey Larry had to use the full power of his truck to nudge aside vehicles blocking their path. It was nearly 7:00 p.m. and the orange sunglow was fading by the time they approached the town center. Here they saw fewer derelict vehicles. But bodies lay all around on the sidewalks, some still holding items of food that hunger had driven them to seek in the deadly cold. After gazing at them in horror and pity, Larry turned away and kept driving. Some minutes later he pulled into the parking lot of a supermarket and stopped the truck, leaving the engine running.
“Okay, here we are,” he said. “What now?”
Nobody had any immediate idea.
“I’m not sure,” Elizabeth said hesitantly. “When we faced death from freezing or starving, it seemed obvious what we should do. But now that there’s no immediate danger …”
Jessica sat silent. In moments of crisis her brain worked overtime, but now she appeared dazed.
“Perhaps we should think of, like, basic necessities,” said Anna. “You know, food, water, warmth.”
“And look for a place to say,” Elizabeth added. “This truck is nice and snug but might start feeling cramped.”
Larry nodded. “Yes, that’s what we should do. Find a good shelter. Some place we can call home for a few weeks while we figure out our long-term plans. But where?”
“Any place would do if we make it livable.” Nicole said.
Jessica entered the discussion. “Since we own the entire planet, we have options.”
Anna snorted. “Don’t write off the rest of the human race yet.”
“Could we go back to our old home?” said Elizabeth.
Suddenly everyone’s mood lightened.
“Brilliant idea, Grandma!” said Anna. “The last time we saw it, the house was, like, the coldest ice box ever, but perhaps it’s come along since then.”
The suggestion found immediate favor with Jessica. It would be wonderful to be back home, she thought, even if that word no longer meant much. It wouldn’t be too far to go, and there would be books and photographs and clothes there. “Zero points for imagination, Grandma, but a perfect ten for good sense.” Elizabeth pinched her cheek, and Nicole smiled. “What does boss man say?”
“Boss man he say—what women want, he want,” Larry replied. He mused ruefully on his fallen standards—he who used to read Dickens and Thackeray, now exchanging badinage in pidgin English! His pre-Shroud persona would have been mortified. On the plus side, however, his old jokes had always gone unappreciated, while his new, cruder sense of humor elicited chuckles from Jessica, his erstwhile critic. “Let’s go there in the morning, though. It’s almost dark now.”
“Sounds good,” said Nicole and added, after a pause: “Any ideas on how we should spend our first evening of freedom?”
“Raid a supermarket.” said Jessica promptly. “Especially the liquor section.”
“Zero points for honesty, but a perfect ten for imagination,” mimicked Anna, ducking away from her sister’s playful punch to her jaw.
The suggestion met with unanimous approval. The spacesuits came back on, and soon the five were inside the store, navigating their way with difficulty through the lightless aisles. Their flashlights revealed a scene of panic-stricken disorder frozen in time—dozens of customers lay sprawled or huddled amidst scattered groceries and collapsed shelves. The family quickly salvaged the items they would need to cook their first post-Shell meal: milk, eggs, salt, condiments, sugar, coffee, oil, frozen fish, and vegetables, along with basic utensils.
“Yuck,” said Jessica, as she opened an egg carton and showed it to the others. The insides of the eggs had spilled out of their shells while freezing and congealed into an unappetizing mess.
“Bring them. They should still be edible,” said Anna.
The inner room with the liquor stocks was almost intact. Evidently, the panic-stricken shoppers had survival in mind, not intoxication. Most of the bottles had cracked open with the cold, but a few were undamaged. The family members chose a bottle each of their favorite tipples: Bordeaux for Nicole, Kahlua and Cointreau for Anna and Jessica, sher
ry for Elizabeth, and an 18-year-old Glenlivet for Larry.
Leaving the others to their liquor search, Jessica wandered off into the appliance section and returned a few minutes later carrying a device that looked like a cross between a barbecue grill and an acetylene torch. “Look what I found!” she said. “A Vapemit stove.”
“A what?”
“Vapemit. A smokeless stove. It burns hydrogen and emits steam. Perfect for indoor cooking.”
“Brilliant! That solves the problem of where to set up the stove.”
Back at the truck, Larry cleared out the space behind the rear seat, dumping all the cans, tools, and equipment out on the parking lot. The floor was thickly and comfortably carpeted. They lit the stove and began their dinner preparations with eagerness. Larry thawed out the Scotch and poured them all a drink.
“To planet Earth,” he said, raising his glass. The others echoed his toast. With so many hands working in smooth unison borne of a decade of survival-level, high-stakes teamwork, dinner was ready in the blink of an eye. And what a meal it was! If their earlier snack in the truck had tasted heavenly, this went far beyond into a zone where adjectives couldn’t follow. Blissful silence reigned as the family relished their meal.
“Not bad,” said Jessica when the meal was over.
“Yeah, not too terrible,” agreed Anna. “Though it can’t compare with the delicious tinned stuff we’ve been eating for the past year, lukewarm and sans condiment.”
“And the best part? No cleaning up,” said Larry. He collected their plates and utensils and dumped them in a bin outside.
Dinner over, a pleasurable drowsiness stole over the family. It was cold and dark outside. But inside the truck with the engine running and the heat and reading lights on, it was bright and warm. They rearranged the seat cushions to make a snug little nest. A large sheet of canvas salvaged from the store made for a passable blanket, and they made themselves comfortable under it. There was so much to talk about, so many questions. Why was the Shroud thinning out now? How much longer before things got back to normal? How would their new life be, with no one else but themselves? What would happen to all the dead bodies? But all that could wait for another day. Before the family knew it, muted daylight was streaming in through the windows.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Home
It took them quarter of an hour to drive to their old house. They had to negotiate the by-now-familiar obstacle course of derelict vehicles and dead bodies, but, on the flip side, they had no moving traffic or signals to deal with. Driving time inside town hadn’t changed much from the old days, it seemed. On the way they stopped at a sporting goods store. They shed their suits and slipped into the warmest long johns, hooded parkas, and ski pants they could find.
“Whew, what a relief!” said Nicole.
“I never want to see the inside of a bloody spacesuit again,” said Anna.
In the dull orange glow of the morning sun their old home looked surprisingly normal, as if patiently waiting for its occupants to return. They felt a wave of excitement and nostalgia as they approached it. Anna had a fleeting irrational thought that once they stepped inside everything would be back to normal, and the Shroud would have been just a nightmare. The illusion held for a few moments even after they entered. Walls, floor, ceiling, windows, and doors were still intact. There was little dust—a thin sooty layer on the floor and furniture was the only sign of the Shroud’s visit.
“Everything’s exactly how we left it,” said Anna. “How lovely!”
But reality set in quickly.
“We could move in here right away,” said Larry, “However—"
“Too cold,” Jessica cut in, tapping her gauge. “Minus 47.”
“Ugh,” said Nicole. “Though the ski things are a million times better than the suits, I’m dying to get out of them.”
“Me too,” said Larry. “We need to find some way to heat this house. The old heating system is useless without a supply of gas.”
“Re-engineer it to run on diesel?” said Jessica.
Larry considered her suggestion for a moment and then shook his head. “Maybe, but it would take weeks to do it.”
“Right,” said Jessica. “We need a quick fix we can rig up in a few hours.”
A short silence ensued as the family pondered the problem. Then Anna had an idea: “Couldn’t we turn the house into the inside of a truck?” Seeing the mystified glances around her, she explained: “You know, find a way to suck the hot air from the truck into the house.”
Jessica’s eyes lit up. “Now there’s an idea! Run the engine and heater full blast, open the rear and jam it against the window.”
“Would that work?” Anna asked Larry.
“Hmm … it might, but to heat a house this size we’ll need more than one truck. More like half a dozen, all running at the same time.”
“No problem!” said Jessica. “Just drive around and grab ’em.”
Larry smiled. “Any objections to a bit of larceny?” The others shook their heads emphatically.
“We have four windows at the ground level and one in the basement,” said Nicole, catching the enthusiasm. “So five trucks?”
“One for each of us!” said Anna. “That should do the trick.”
“If we’re going to prison for auto theft, we might as well go as a family,” said Elizabeth.
When the laughter had subsided, Larry sprang up. “Let’s do it then. While we’re stealing the trucks, let’s also break into a hardware store and steal as much foam insulation and duct tape as we can find. We want to make tight seals between the windows and the trucks.”
“Also steal a nice, big diesel generator,” added Jessica. “To get the lights back on.”
“Great idea,” said Larry. “Let’s go!”
They set out enthusiastically, full of the spirit of adventure. Elizabeth was the first to spot a candidate truck—a Toyota Land Cruiser SUV, looking as if it had just been driven out of the showroom. Larry and Jessica got the driver’s side door opened. Inside, with a calm, faraway look in his eyes, sat the driver, his seat belt still buckled.
Anna screamed. “Oh, God, that’s Mr. Lodge.”
“Who?”
“Mr. Lodge. My piano teacher.” Anna’s voice choked, and tears began to stream behind her mask. “He looks like he’s just sleeping.”
Jessica put an arm around her. “So sorry, love, so sorry.” She held her as close as she could despite their bulky clothes. Then Elizabeth did the same. “How absolutely terrible.”
They stood indecisively for a few seconds, and then Larry said: “Let’s do this later. We’ll find other trucks.”
Anna shook her head. “No, I’m okay now. It was just a shock. And I guess we should get used to this. Let’s ease him out.”
After some hesitation, they unclipped the frozen driver’s seatbelt and pulled him out. They laid him on the sidewalk, still hunched in a sitting position. No one spoke, but Anna’s gentle sniffling wafted through the silence.
The truck, predictably, wouldn’t start. They tried the fire-under-the-tank technique, which melted the fuel in the tank, but the engine still refused to start. Jessica wanted to repeat the procedure under the engine, but Larry came up with a better method. Connecting a length of rubber hose to his truck’s tailpipe, Larry placed the other end in the engine compartment of the SUV. “Let’s give it a few minutes and try again,” he said. The two of them then returned to Larry’s truck, where they sat in gloomy silence.
“Feels like grave robbery,” Jessica said at last.
Elizabeth sighed. “Yes, it seems horrid, stealing from a dead man and throwing his body on the sidewalk.” She paused a moment and then added: “But, as Anna said, we need to harden ourselves to this. We can’t save these poor people. We can’t even give them a decent burial, there are too many of them, and besides the ground is frozen. All we can do is try and make our own lives a bit easier.”
“Totally agree,” said Jessica. “Old scruples
don’t apply.”
“Nicole?” said Larry.
“I agree,” she replied. “What would’ve been unthinkable before feels almost normal now.”
The family lapsed into silence.
“Time for another try,” said Larry after about fifteen minutes. The third time proved the charm, and the SUV started with only a token protest at being woken up from its decade-long slumber. Larry turned the vehicle’s heater to maximum and drove it to the house while the others followed in his truck. They repeated the foray four more times, each time driving back with a new truck. Soon, five extra vehicles were parked around their house.
Over the next few days, the team worked hard to turn their house back into a home once again. By the end of the third day, two of the five heater trucks had been mated with a window each using generous amounts of foam and duct tape, although they had a good deal of difficulty getting the tape to unspool and stick at the ambient temperature. By the fourth morning, the house was noticeably warmer. Two more trucks got plugged in that day. Within hours, the ground level of the house was warm enough for them to shed their padded outfits, and a day later it had reached a pleasant 20 degrees.
The fifth truck was then connected to the basement window to make the entire house livable again. Larry and Anna, who had figured out how to melt and pump the diesel from a nearby filling station, made periodic refueling trips to keep the trucks running. They also figured out clever tricks to keep the fuel in the trucks from freezing and prevent the engine and battery from getting too cold. Meanwhile, Jessica had been busy at work with the generator, and soon the lights came on as well. Camp stoves replaced the gas range in the kitchen. By the end of a week, the house was fully functional, except for the plumbing. Jessica set up a rudimentary water boiler using a diesel heater and bottled water. It wasn’t enough for showering—that luxury was still a dream—but sufficient for a much-needed sponge bath each day. The wastewater simply ran out through a pipe into a ditch where it instantly froze.
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