He poked his head into Tom’s room to see how he was doing and found him sitting up in bed, staring blankly at the wall. Ryan was on the floor, playing with a little metal car his dad had found the other day, while Beverly sat near the window and drank her water.
Tom snapped out of his trance. “Oh, hey there, Major.”
“Hey, guys. Just wanted to see how you’re doing. You look better.” Vince was lying. Tom’s face and neck were covered with dozens of small cuts from the glass. Blood soaked through the bandage on his arm, and he looked like he was on death’s doorstep, if Vince was being honest.
“Thanks. I feel a little better, regardless of how I look.” Tom forced a smile. “Beverly told me about the new couple and what the man said. Do you think it’s true?”
“I don’t know. Let’s hope not.” Vince tried not to sound too concerned.
“If it’s true, then we’re on our own,” Beverly said. “How long can we do this without help?” Her face was red, and her voice shook. Ryan stopped playing and looked at his mother, then Vince.
“We’ll be all right. We have to stay strong and work together, but we can do this,” Vince answered.
“What makes you so sure we can survive this?” she countered.
“Because we have to,” he shot back, looking directly at her this time. She needed to get it together for her son’s sake, if nothing else.
“Tom, I’m afraid I need to ask a favor. Could you check out some wiring Cy and I did on the security lights I was talking about installing? We put everything in place this morning. Just need you to give us the thumbs-up and make sure we don’t mess something up.” Vince was eager to change the topic of conversation. He wasn’t going to bring up the wiring to Tom after seeing how he looked, but Beverly’s questions changed his mind.
“Sure thing. I’ll take a look this afternoon, if that’s okay.”
“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks. All right, I won’t bother you anymore, I promise.” Vince backed out of the room, avoiding eye contact with Beverly. How could she say those things in front of her kid? It made Vince angry, but he calmed himself down and reasoned that everyone was dealing with this in their own way as best as they could.
He headed straight to his room and was happy to see Mary and Nugget lounging on the bed. That was where he wanted to be right now. Vince closed the door all but a couple of inches to try and capitalize on the faint breeze rustling the curtains ever so slightly. He plopped down on the bed with a groan and kicked his boots off before lying next to Mary.
“So when are you boys going to get the radio?” Mary shook her head and smiled.
Vince was going to tell her about their plan to go look for the Oldsmobile, but she knew him too well.
Mary laughed. “Don’t look at me like that. I know you better than you think, Vince Walker.”
“We’re going to head out when it cools down. If we can get that radio set up, maybe we can contact some other communities or at least put ourselves on the map as far as the government is concerned. Let them know there’s survivors here that need help,” Vince answered.
Mary was about to say something but stopped.
“What?” Vince asked.
She paused for a moment. “About what Albert said, what do you think that means for us?”
“I don’t really know. We keep doing what we’re doing. One day at a time.”
“Do you think we’ll bounce back from this, and I don’t mean Cloverdale—I mean America.”
“I really don’t know. I want to believe we will, but I have my doubts. Things will never be the same, even if we do.” Vince rolled onto his back and let his head rest on the pillow.
“Yeah,” Mary whispered and put her arm over the top of his chest.
Vince was never under the illusion that things would ever be the same again, and he thought everyone else felt that way, too, and not just here in Cloverdale—everywhere. Vince looked at the curtains moving in the breeze and thought about the American flag he flew outside the garage. The country he’d given some of the best years of his life to might not exist anymore. All the friends lost and blood spilled. What did it all mean anymore? It was too much to wrap his head around right now. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on what he did have, and before long, he was fast asleep.
Chapter Thirty
Vince heard the knocking on the room door but chose to ignore it for the moment. Not until Cy pushed it open a few more inches and poked his head inside the room did Vince acknowledge that it was time to get up.
“Hey, you up? We better get moving if we’re gonna do this,” he whispered. Nugget lifted her head to see who was interrupting her nap but put it back down quickly when she saw Cy.
“Yeah… All right, I’m moving. Is John ready?” Vince sat up slowly and stretched before attempting to put on his shoes. He was sore, no more or no less than usual, but once his shoes were on, he’d wash down a pill before they left.
“Yeah, he’s out here. We’ll be waiting.” Cy’s head disappeared, and the door returned to its original position. With Mary comfortably sleeping on the bed beside him, Vince was tempted for a moment to call the whole thing off. He could have very easily gone back to sleep.
“Is everything all right?” Mary asked. Vince didn’t mean to wake her and hadn’t realized that she was up.
“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you. We’re heading out to look for Albert’s car.” Vince kept his voice quiet in case she wanted to go back to bed.
“No, it’s fine. I better go and see if they need any help figuring out tonight’s meal. If I’m not there, they tend to go through more supplies than they should.” Mary sat up, and Nugget lost her spot at Mary’s feet. The little dog stretched and grumbled before jumping off the bed and heading for the door.
Vince washed his face with some water from a bowl they were keeping in the room for that purpose and dried off with a towel.
“I’ll try to be back as soon as I can. I don’t think it’ll take long to find the car and get back.” Vince already felt guilty for leaving and not helping with dinner, or was it the fact that he wasn’t telling Mary the whole truth about his excursion? “It’ll give me a chance to look for some of the things on the list, too.” That was enough truth to make him feel a little better.
Mary made eye contact with Vince as he picked up his shotgun. “Be careful, please.”
Vince winked at her. “Always.” Then he slipped into the early-evening air and took a deep breath. It almost felt like a mid-June evening, and Vince took it in for a minute before looking for Cy and John. It didn’t take long to find the two; they were sitting in John’s Bronco and chatting loudly. Vince actually heard John laugh, something he wondered if the man was capable of anymore.
“You guys ready to find this car?” Vince asked.
“Just waiting on you,” John teased. Vince looked in at the back seat of the Bronco, making a point to be obvious about it. It was covered with John’s stuff. There was room for Vince, but it was a good excuse to take his own vehicle.
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll follow you guys in the wagon. I’ve got my tools in there anyway,” Vince reasoned.
“Well, we could all ride with you, if you’d rather,” John offered.
“Actually, I was thinking we might have to tow the car back, and that would be easier with the Bronco.” Vince wasn’t lying about that. The Bronco had a couple of tow points on the rear bumper; he didn’t even have a trailer hitch on the wagon.
“All right then. Try and keep up, old man.” John laughed and put the truck in gear as Vince stepped back.
“Yeah, yeah.” Vince shook his head and smiled at Cy and John as they pulled out to the parking lot exit and waited for Vince. John had let Bill know about their plan earlier, and he was ready and waiting to move the gate when they approached. Vince followed the Bronco through the opening and waved at Bill. “Be back soon.”
Vince would have preferred if Cy rode with him for the trip out to the car, but he and
John seemed to be getting along so well he didn’t want to interrupt. God knew his friend needed it. Vince hadn’t heard him laugh in a long time, let alone smile and joke around.
Besides, they’d need the Bronco in case the Oldsmobile really did need to be towed. If they were able to get the thing running again, then Cy could drive the Oldsmobile back. That would give Vince the perfect opportunity to do a little exploring on his own. His official reason for the trip was the list in his back pocket, but it was more about satisfying his curiosity.
Vince wondered how things looked to the west. It was farther from the Indianapolis detonation than Cloverdale, and maybe some of the towns out that way had fared better. Albert and Helen hadn’t found anything worth stopping for, but that was along the interstate. Maybe there was another grocery store or another group of people like them.
There was a Pilot Travel Center out by Prairie City, and that was as far as Vince was going to go. That was the next closest thing to civilization. West of here, it was about a twenty-minute drive, or at least it used to be before the EMPs made an obstacle course out of the interstate. He figured he had plenty of time to run there and get back to Cloverdale before dark. Of course, that all depended on how they made out with the Oldsmobile.
So far, the highway wasn’t as crowded as it had been on their trip east to drop off Travis and Dalton. Vince thought about those two for a minute and wondered where they were now. With any luck, they were farther away from Cloverdale than they were last night.
John was able to maintain a fairly steady pace, and Vince did his best to forget about everything for a little while and enjoy the air as it rushed in his open window. He didn’t have long to let his mind wander, however, and in what seemed like no time at all, John’s brake lights were flashing and Cy was pointing at something on the shoulder.
Then Vince saw the car, just as Albert had described it. The light-gray paint was badly faded, oxidized through to the metal in some spots, and the windshield had a large crack over the passenger side. It had to be the one.
It didn’t look like much, but Albert swore it ran great up until it didn’t, and that worried Vince a little bit, but whatever it was, they’d do their best to get it running. It wasn’t the car they wanted, but it felt wrong to come get the man’s radio without at least trying to fix his vehicle as well. What if the couple wanted to continue their journey at some point? Vince didn’t see that happening, but he wasn’t going to stop them.
They were two more mouths to feed, two more people to take care of. And Albert and Helen would need taking care of. They wouldn’t be able to contribute much in the way of helping out, at least not physically, but Albert could make up for that with his abilities as a radio operator. Vince truly believed that it would eventually get them the help they needed, and he also wondered if it could somehow increase the range of their two-way radios by becoming their base. All things to discuss with Albert when he was feeling better, but right now, he just hoped they could fix the car.
Chapter Thirty-One
It didn’t take long at all to get the Oldsmobile running, and it was a fairly simple fix. Based on how Albert described the breakdown, Vince assumed the problem would have been a lot worse. It turned out that one of the spark plug wires had somehow got caught against the engine and melted through. It took Vince and Cy a matter of minutes to splice the wire and make the fix.
The car fired right up, and after letting it run for a few minutes, Vince was satisfied the old sedan would make it back to Cloverdale without any trouble. Cy could drive the car back and John could follow him. Now Vince just had to break the news that he wasn’t returning with them, not right away.
John didn’t give him too much grief over the idea, but Cy didn’t give in so easily. Vince finally convinced him that it wasn’t that big of a deal and that he was only going another ten miles, if that. Besides, he was putting Cy in charge of following up with Tom and making sure the security lights were operational, something he could do while Vince put a little effort into finding a new belt for the loader or a few more batteries to add to the power bank.
Cy reluctantly gave in, and after making his dad promise to be careful, he headed off toward Cloverdale in the Oldsmobile while John followed. Vince was finally alone, and it was strange and a little unnerving. He still wasn’t used to the absolute quiet in the aftermath of the EMPs, but out here, the silence felt more absolute and truly added to the feeling of being on your own.
Vince decided he better get going if he was going to make it back before dark. He wasn’t going to rush, but he wanted to make it worth the anxiety this would cause Mary. He also didn’t want to get caught outside the safety of the wall at night.
There were good spots and bad along the interstate, and he was able to grab a few things to fill the boxes in the back of the wagon. He managed to find two belts he thought would work on the loader and a couple of batteries that hadn’t been melted to the cars he pulled them from. But overall, he passed by the wrecks that held bodies. For most of the trip, he inspected things from the safety of the car, weaving and driving all over the road in order to get a closer look sometimes.
On the open sections of the interstate that lacked wrecks or debris, he made up some time and managed to get the wagon over eighty miles an hour at one point. It felt good to be out here, and even though it was risky, he was glad he’d decided to do it. His fun came to an end, though, when he reached his turnaround point, a Pilot Travel Center. It was a large place with dozens of pumps and a restaurant attached. It looked just as bad as anything he’d seen around Cloverdale. Most of the windows were shattered, but at this distance, that was probably more from looters than the blast.
Vince didn’t stop. In fact, he didn’t even use the exit to turn around. Cutting through the weed-infested median, he made his way over to the eastbound lanes. Halfway through the grass, the rear wheels started to spin and his heart skipped a beat when he thought he might get stuck. He’d be screwed out here if he buried the back end in the dirt. He never should have tried to cut across.
All of a sudden, he found traction, then the shoulder, where he mashed down on the gas and sent a rooster tail of dirt and gravel backward as he pulled out onto the blacktop. Vince let out a deep breath. That was way too close for comfort. He’d allowed himself to be distracted by the trashed gas station and wasn’t thinking. He needed to be more careful out here on his own.
There were a couple more pit stops and greasy spoons across the street, but Vince kept his attention on the road this time. He was going to take a quick look at the car dealership here in Prairie City to see if it would be a good place to find more batteries, but something didn’t feel right about it, and he didn’t want to risk making any more mistakes tonight. Besides, it was getting dark, and the near mishap in the median had rattled his cage a little. He’d pushed his luck far enough for one day.
From what he could see, everything appeared to be in about the same shape as the Pilot Travel Center, anyway. It didn’t come as a surprise that these places looked like this. He expected them to be trashed, but a small part of him hoped something had survived or might be different. Better, maybe. But it wasn’t, and it was time to go back to Cloverdale and the safety it offered.
On the way back, he made a point to keep a steady pace. There were to be no stops on the return trip, and Vince regretted his decision to do this more and more as the sun began to sink and eventually disappear over the tops of the trees. The highway looked even more foreboding in the pale gray of the evening, and Vince pushed down on the gas pedal a little more.
It wasn’t far to Cloverdale now, and Vince started to relax—until he saw a man on the side of the road up ahead. He couldn’t make out much more than a silhouette, but he could tell that the figure was standing still and looking right at him. Vince fought the urge to stomp on it and blow right on by. He really wished John or Cy, or both of them, for that matter, were with him for this.
He brought the wagon to a stop about forty
yards, or within shotgun range, from where the man was standing and put it in park. He’d leave the motor running, just in case. Vince was less worried about the guy he could see than he was about the surrounding woods. Was this a trap? Were there more people lurking in the woods, waiting for the right moment to jump out and attack him?
“Hello,” the stranger called out to him, but Vince pretended not to hear it while he decided what to do. He went to the back seat and pulled out the shotgun; he wasn’t taking any chances. Slowly, he approached the guy and kept the twelve-gauge at his side, not pointed at the man but ready if he needed it.
“What are you doing out here?” Vince asked. It was too late in the day for small talk, and he wanted to get to the point right away.
“I’m not looking for any trouble. We had some car issues a few miles back, and we’re trying to get to Cloverdale to look for parts,” the stranger answered, then took a step back as Vince continued to close the distance between them. Then he saw a familiar mark on the man’s arm: a ranger insignia tattooed on his left bicep. Vince eased his grip on the gun and hoisted it up over his shoulder.
“Army, huh?” Vince asked.
“Yes, sir.”
Vince cracked a faint smile and pulled his sleeve up to show the man his tattoo. “Nam,” Vince said.
The whole mood shifted, and he could feel it. He offered his hand to the stranger. “Vincent, but my friends call me Vince, although I don’t seem to have many left these days.”
“Ben Davis. Glad to meet you.”
* * *
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Cloverdale (Book 4): Confrontation Page 15