by Unknown
“Well, let’s go see who's left, and who wants to go then,” Mike decided. “No sense deciding this until we know for sure.”
“You mean if they don't want to go, you're not going?” Terry asked.
“No,” Mike said calmly. “I'm going, period.”
“Maybe we should decide right now if all of us want to go,” Bob said. He looked around at the small assembled group, letting his eyes stop on Ed Weston.
“Ed, Dave?” Bob asked.
“I'm in,” Ed replied, “I can't see any reason to stay here, and I think you may be right, Bob. I'm not so sure this is a safe place to be.” He seemed to be slightly out of sync, Bob thought, but he answered quickly, and decisively nonetheless.
“I'm in too,” Dave said. “But what if we get to Rochester and it's the same as here?”
“That's a chance we'll have to take,” Bob replied. “In fact, I wouldn't doubt that there is damage. My only argument is that it may be safer than here. It's built on higher ground. It's also a much larger city, and I think that would increase our chances of finding other people. Maybe it would allow us to get a little more insight, or information, on what happened. Who knows, they may still have power, or some form of police, hell, maybe the television stations there are still working. We don't know, and the only way we will know is to go and find out. One thing is for certain though, Rochester is definitely built on higher ground than Watertown is. If that lake does rise, I would rather be there than here.”
Bob looked around at the small group, and then continued.
“So, if we're all in agreement, I guess we better go talk to the others and see how many of them are going with us, agreed” he asked turning to Candace. “You and Mike will have an idea of how many trucks we are going to need; get some drivers... How long you figure, an hour or so? I mean to get ready to go.”
“It will probably be a good three hours before we get what we need and get back,” Candace replied after a quick look at Mike who nodded.
“I think you better do the talking, Bob,” Mike said, “They know you better than they know me, and if we're going to get out of here today we better get our asses in gear too.”
With that the small group walked to the front of the store, where the other people had congregated by the shattered doors.
“Folks,” Bob said as he held his hands over his head to get them to quiet down, “I'd like to talk to you.”
Most of the people there either knew Bob, or knew of him, and they had an idea of what was coming, as most of them had been standing around listening when the conversation had first turned to leaving. They turned expectantly towards Bob now, and waited for him to begin to speak.
“As most of you know,” Bob began, “I'm in favor of leaving Watertown. I think you've all heard my reasons so I won't go into them, but what I would like to let you know, is that if we're going to go, and the eight of us are,” Bob lowered his hands and gestured to include the group of people that stood around and near him, “we need to know if any of you are going to come along.”
No one answered for a few seconds. Bob was about to begin speaking, if only to break the oppressive silence, when someone finally did. It was not what he had expected however.
“Hey? Who died and left you the boss,” a young teenager in the small group yelled out.
The young man stepped forward. His long stringy, dirty hair hung into his eyes, and he pushed it away with the back of his hand as he glared at Bob.
“I never said I was the boss of anything,” Bob replied quietly. “At least I don't recall saying it.” Bob stared calmly back at the young man.
“Well you're the ones been doing all the talking. Who are you to say what we should or shouldn't be doing? And how come I never heard about no fuckin' fault line, huh?”
“Maybe if you could read,” a young man said from behind him, as he also stepped out of the small group, “you would know. It was in the paper just a few weeks ago. And if you went to school you probably would have learned about it there too. I never heard him say anything about being in charge either, but they were the ones who decided to at least do something. We were all standing around out here with our fingers up our asses before they showed up. What is it; do you still think somebody is going to show up and save us?”
The two young men were now facing each other, and the small group around them seemed to be waiting to see what would happen next.
“Listen,” Mike said as he stepped towards them. “This isn't the time or place for this sort of crap: If you don't want to be here fine. Nobody said you had to go anywhere. Bob simply asked you if you wanted to go.” Mike paused as he stared at the two young men. “Sounds more as if you've got some sort of problem with authority. If so, that's something you'll have to deal with on your own time. The fact is that we can't stay here, and we've decided we're going. It's an invitation for you to join us, but you can stay right here for all I care.”
“Oh yeah?” the kid glared at Mike.
“Look,” Mike replied, staring back, “If you have some real objections state them: Otherwise shut up, listen, or hit the road.”
“I'm outta here. Screw you people,” the young man said as he glared at Mike, and the others from the small group that had moved up beside him. “You guys do what you want, I'm leaving,” he finished. He pushed his dirty hair from his eyes once more as he turned and walked out of the store.
“Listen!” Mike said, raising his voice. “I don't think we all have to start acting like a bunch of morons. We're all in this together, why don't you just listen to what Bob has to say, and then you can decide.”
The other young man lowered the hands he had raised, and turned back towards Bob expectantly. The rest of the crowd, realizing that the confrontation was over, and they weren't going to see a fight, turned their attention back to Bob. Bob waited for them to quiet before he resumed talking.
“Let me make this clear,” Bob said as he began to speak quietly. “I don't want to lead anyone. All I really care about is getting out of here, same as most of you.”
Candace watched as Bob spoke, and thought, kind of late for that, Bob. She had noticed that everyone had seemed to gravitate to Bob earlier when he had begun to speak. He had that kind of personality, she supposed. They also seemed to be drawn to Mike, and more than a few had asked her what her feelings were about the situation. Are we leading? She asked herself, as she turned her attention back to Bob.
“What we have to know,” Bob was saying, “is who wants to come with us.”
“Where will we go?” an older man asked as Bob paused. Bob explained their choice, and why they had made it as the group listened.
“Now, there are eight of us, and we need to know how many cars we're going to need to get us all there. Mike and Candace are going over to the Jeep dealership and try to find us some four wheelers that will fit the bill. New if they will run, older ones if they won't.”
“Ain't that stealing?” someone asked.
“Not as I see it,” Bob replied. “As I see it, they don't belong to anyone anymore. I mean... Anyone see any police? Or really, if you think of it, has anyone seen anybody at all in authority?” he waited briefly, before continuing, half expecting the young kid to pop back in the door and say, Nobody 'cept you, you old bastard. When he didn't Bob was relieved, and once again began speaking.
“No, I think being arrested for car theft is the least of our problems. I ain't saying it wasn't a good thought to bring up, but I'm not too worried about that at all. What I am worried about... The main thing right now anyway, is to get this show on the road before it gets much later,” Bob said, and paused. “So, if no one has any real objections, I'd like a show of hands so we can figure out who's going and who's staying.”
With no discussion, five members of the dwindling group, among them the young man who had been involved in the earlier argument, turned and walked to the far side of the wide double front doors, shaking their heads as they went. The remaining people began, slow
ly at first, with glances at their neighbors, to raise their hands.
“Don't just raise your hand if you're not sure, or just because the guy standing next to you did,” Bob said. “You have to be sure, and you should know that we may not make it. We don't have the slightest idea what we're going to run into on the way, or even if we'll get there. So you better be sure, because once we go we ain't coming back. So who's positive?”
Several hands that had been up went down, and their owners quickly gravitated to the smaller group that had begun to form by the front doors.
Bob looked at the young dark-haired kid he had been sure would end up with them, and then at Mike, who shrugged his shoulders and said, “Go figure.”
Four remained waiting.
“Okay then,” Mike said, “I guess we'll only need three cars. Who wants to go with Candace and me?” There were two women and the older man who had spoken earlier.
“I'll go,” one of the young women said, stepping forward. The older man stepped forward as well and volunteered.
“I don't think we need both of you,” Candace said. “Jan,” she said speaking to the woman who had stepped forward first, “if you want to come, let’s get going.”
The woman followed Candace and Mike out the front doors, as the older man walked over to Bob.
“Let's go back to the rear” Bob said in a low voice as he leaned closer to Ronnie. “I'm not so sure I want to stand up here and discuss our plans, if you catch my drift.”
“My thought exactly,” Ronnie said, as they walked towards the rear of the store.
Ronnie, Bob, and Dave, rested up against a wide cooler at the back of the store as Bob spoke. The two young women, Lilly and Gina, both of whom were in their late teens, stood nearby with the older man who Bob knew as John Bolton, a retired city Councilman from the Rochester area. He had been leading one of the groups that had come in yesterday. Bolton had retired and moved to Watertown to escape the crime in Rochester. He would definitely be an asset, Bob thought.
“Ed?” Bob asked. “We're going to need some other things before we go. I think maybe a couple more rifles, some camping gear, you know, things like that. If I make up a quick list, I was thinking maybe you and Gina might not mind getting it together, would you?”
“Sure,” Ed replied, “you a little concerned about that group up front?”
Bob leveled his eyes at Ed. “Them and any others like them. I'm not so sure they can be trusted. I saw Brad Saser in the crowd there, and he had a gun of some sort stuffed into his waist band.”
“I saw that too,” Dave said, and then went on. “Did you see the way he tensed up when it looked like those two kids were going to get into it?” Dave finished.
“Yes,” Bob replied, “I did, and it's something I thought of earlier. I saw some others carrying guns, when we were down to the Square. I don't much like it, but I think we have to have our own, even if only to play it safe. I mean rifles and shotguns are fine, but it doesn't appear it's just the gangs we have to worry about. Looks like the good guys ain't all good guys.”
“I agree,” John said. “I spent a good deal of time in Rochester, and I took to carrying a gun with me wherever I went. I think, especially now, since we don't seem to have any police to protect us, it's the only smart thing to do.”
“I agree,” Ronnie said.
The others in the small group murmured their agreement along with him.
“Dave?” Bob said, as he looked at him, “We’re also going to need some canned goods. Maybe some bottled water, soda, canned meats. How about you and Lilly start getting that together. Be sure to stick to the canned stuff, and toss in some basic medical stuff, you know aspirin, bandage, whatever you think we might need.” Dave nodded his head and left with Lilly. Bob scrawled a quick list for Ed and Gina, and sent them on their way. The three remaining men watched them walk off, and then Bob said,
“Ronnie? Did you see any state maps up front, at the checkouts?”
“I believe I did,” he replied, as he walked away to get one.
Ronnie glanced over at the group of people, who were still huddled by the front doors, as he picked up several maps and headed back to the rear of the store. They were all huddled together to one side of the front doors, talking in low whispers, and more than a few of them had turned his way as he picked up the maps.
Bob and John were sitting on the rail of a long meat counter, talking, and drinking a couple of beers when Ronnie returned.
“They're still cold if you get 'em from the back,” Bob said as Ronnie approached.
Ronnie reached into the cooler and snagged one of the beers from the back of the cooler, where ice had formed on the condenser unit. It hadn't completely melted in the cool interior of the store. He took a long drink of the cool liquid. Probably won't be drinking too many cold beers anymore, he thought. He reached into the cooler fished out a six pack from the back, and carried it over to the two men who were still talking. Bob and John both helped themselves to another beer as Ronnie spoke.
“Group up front is still there, and they eyeballed me pretty good when I went up to get the maps.”
“It's probably a good thing we're leaving,” John said. John had been in the crowd at the front of the store earlier and hadn't liked the way the conversation had been going. “There's a couple of loony's in that crowd, and I'm just as glad they're not with us.”
“I feel about the same,” Bob said.
Ronnie opened one of the maps, and spread it over the glass top of the meat case.
“John thinks the best way is probably Route 3,” Bob said.
“It cuts around the lake,” John explained, picking up the conversation. “If it's true, what Bob suspects about the fault line, it may be a tough way to go. But you've got to consider the other route, and I don't think that's a good choice at all. If we don't go 3, we're stuck with Route 81 to Syracuse, and the Thruway west from there. I think we all made up our minds to avoid Syracuse, so that leaves Route 3. That will take us into Route 104, and if we take that west it will bring us into Rochester. Of course there's still the lake to contend with.”
“I don't think the lake is a problem,” Bob said, “the fault line runs across the basin of the Great lakes. If it did shift, it would be a problem we might have to face down the line, but that would only be if we try to go farther west.”
“If it shifted, let’s say it did for the sake of argument, there's no real way to know at this point anyway, we could have one hell of a big river splitting the whole eastern end of the continent, from Canada, all the way down to the Gulf coast somewhere. I know, I already been beatin' on that horse, but I think it's the most likely explanation. I read about it, what could happen if the fault were somehow triggered, in an article in the paper a few years back. It may seem a bit far-fetched, but there's a lot of fact to back it up. The lakes would drop at first, and then they would level out as the new river fills up, and begin to rise again. That's a basic way of putting it I guess, but that's the gist of it. Right now though, if that lake really is dropping, we shouldn't have too much trouble getting into Rochester.”
“You don't think the road will be busted up, or flooded?” Ronnie asked.
“I doubt it'll be flooded,” John replied, “if the lake is dropping, that should keep the road dry. I'm not so sure it won't be broken up some though, and we may run into some stalled traffic I suppose, but being as it was night time, the traffic shouldn't be too awful bad, and Four Wheel Drive should get us around the worst of it anyhow.”
“I'd say it's a much better bet than Route 81 and the Thruway,” Bob said. “The traffic is pretty damn heavy there all the time.”
“Tell me about it.” Ronnie said, “I came down eighty-one on my way here the day I met you guys. I was out in Adams working that day, just happened to come in to the city. Nothing but Army trucks and traffic bumper to bumper.”
“Well then,” Bob said, “that decides that. John, what do you think our chances are, when we get there, of
finding it still standing?”
John shrugged his shoulders as he replied. “Good as any, I guess, there's no real way to tell. I don't think the damage here was caused by the meteor, I think we all agree it was most likely an earthquake, but that doesn't mean Rochester's still standing. And it says nothing about what's beyond Rochester.”
The other two men nodded in agreement. He was right, Ronnie realized, as he pulled another beer from the plastic collar that held it. They would simply have to get there before they knew. He sat beside them on the small rail drinking the semi-cold beer.
A short time later a loud commotion at the front of the store, caught their attention.
“Shit,” Ronnie said as the three of them hurried in the direction of the front of the store, “What the hell's up now?”
Candace was standing over the young man with the long greasy hair who had caused the earlier argument, with her fists clenched. Mike and Jan were standing in front of her trying to hold back the small group of people.
“What the hell's going on here?” Bob shouted as he came up the aisle with Ronnie and John.
“This ass-hole,” Candace said, waving her hand to indicate the young man on the floor, “and his buddy over there,” she pointed towards Brad Saser, who was standing in the crowd. “Tried to jump us when we walked in the front door.”
Dave and Lilly emerged from one of the other aisles and stood next to Candace and Terry, as the kid picked himself up off the floor, and retreated to the safety of the other group. The two groups stared at each other across the small space for a few seconds, and then Brad Saser stepped out of the small group with a pistol gripped in one hand.
“Don't have to be nobody killed,” he said, as he waved the pistol in their direction. “We want them Jeep's, that's all.”
Mike returned the man’s icy stare. “If you want one, why don't you go get one? If I recall correctly, you didn't want to come along in the first place, and if you want to leave now there are plenty more cars just lying around waiting to be taken. Take one and go for Christ's sake.”