by Bruno Miller
“We’re ready when you are. Take your time,” he said.
Crouching down on the hard blacktop hadn’t done his knee any favors, and he tried to put as much weight on his good knee as he could without drawing attention to himself. Thankfully, the others were gathered around the Toyota, filling Rita and Carlos in on what happened.
Ben was surprised when Sandy came over and insisted on helping him. “You’re still in bad shape, huh? Here, lean on me. That’s what we’re here for, right? To lean on each other?” She flashed the hint of a smile.
“That’s right.” Ben was glad to see Sandy had moved on, at least enough to set her emotions aside for now. They needed to get moving before the smoke and gunfire attracted anyone else, although after the amount of destruction they had unleashed on the looters, he was thinking it might be a deterrent to some degree. And for the first time, Ben realized that when they stood together, armed, they were a force to be reckoned with. He was proud of their toughness, and although what they were having to go through wasn’t something he would have ever wished for, it seemed to be bringing out the best in all of them.
“All right, guys, let’s get this show on the road. Don’t want to hang around here any longer than we need to. Same vehicle order as yesterday.” Just because they were well armed and successful at holding off the looters didn’t mean he wanted to test their abilities again anytime soon. He was sure trouble would find them easily enough without invitation.
“What’s the goal for today? How far do you think we’ll make it?” Allie asked.
“Depending on the road conditions and how thirsty the Scout proves to be, we should be able to cross over into Ohio in about four hours or so.” Ben had scaled the distance on the atlas last night before bed, and he figured the actual distance to the state line was around 115 miles. That would have normally taken about two hours, but the word “normal” had lost all meaning long ago.
“Yeah, you probably want to go a little easier on the Scout. Every time you get on it, we have a hard time breathing in the Jeep.” Joel glanced at Martin and laughed, but there was a lot of truth to what he was saying, and it brought up something Ben had been meaning to talk to the man about.
“Not only that, but we need to conserve gas. Every time we stop for fuel, it puts us at risk for stuff like that.” Ben glanced over at the plume of black smoke just beyond the overpass, then back at Martin.
Martin held both hands up in the air. “Point taken. Say no more. It does sound good, though, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, but every time it sounds good, you’re probably using half a gallon of gas. We need to see what type of range the Scout has today under normal driving conditions. That way, we can plan our stops better if possible.” Ben exaggerated a little on the gas usage, but he was trying to scare Martin, and it needed to be said. They had already wasted enough time talking; there was no need to mince words.
Ben turned to walk away but stopped. There was one more thing he wanted to say. “If you’re not driving, let’s work on getting the magazines reloaded.” The others nodded in agreement as they all separated for their vehicles.
Joel stopped. “What about Brad? Is he riding with you now?” Before Ben had a chance to respond, Brad appeared from around the far side of the Blazer.
Ben thought about it for a minute as the three of them looked at each other. Brad was already disappointed he’d been assigned to stay with his sister during the skirmish.
Ben shrugged. “It’s your choice.”
Joel hesitated for a second. “Well, come on then.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Brad smiled and shouldered his AR while running to catch up to his brother.
“Joel, you take the lead today. We’ll bring up the rear.” It was the least he could do, and as confidently as he’d told Martin the looters wouldn’t continue chasing them, he couldn’t help but wonder if they would see that Mustang again. If it showed up in anyone’s rearview mirror, he’d rather it be his. Ben shook his head as he approached the Blazer and met Sandy’s gaze.
“What?” she asked.
“I don’t want to hear about it. I lost my shot at the father-of-the-year award a while ago. Don’t you think?” Ben joked.
“Oh, I think the exact opposite, actually. By the way, have fun loading magazines.” Sandy cut him off on his way to the driver’s side of the truck. He couldn’t argue, not with the way he was carrying himself.
Sam and Bajer were all noses as he climbed into the truck. Both dogs had pushed their way over the center console to greet them upon their return.
“All right, all right.” Ben acknowledged each of them with a quick rub on the head. “Back up now. Go on, back up.” He noticed Emma was out from under the sleeping bag, but probably because of the temperature more than anything.
“Come on, here.” Emma slapped her hand on the bench seat, and the dogs tried to outmaneuver one another to get next to her. “You know I can take care of myself, Dad. I don’t need Brad to watch over me.”
“I know, but it makes me feel better knowing where you both are and that you’re together. I’m your dad. I’m allowed to worry.” Ben hoped that was a good enough reason for right now. It was the truth. He found one of his water bottles and washed down a couple more pills for his knee. “I really appreciate you driving, Sandy.”
“No problem. I’m glad to help take some of the load off of you.” She began to ease the Blazer out onto the road as she followed Martin in the Scout. Ben looked back at Emma and smiled as he arranged his M24 in the space between the console and his seat. She seemed content with his earlier answer, at least enough not to pursue it any further, and had buried her face in a book. He was sure she had read it a few times over by now.
“Maybe we could keep our eyes out for a library or a bookstore that’s still standing and find you some new books to read.” Ben glanced back at Emma once more.
“Oh yeah, that’s a good idea. I wouldn’t mind finding something myself. Reading is such a great escape,” Sandy added.
In spite of their enthusiasm, a simple “yeah” was the only response they got from Emma, but Ben would take it over her complaining any day. Considering what they had just been through and witnessed, he was impressed overall that the conversation after the firefight hadn’t been full of questions and uncertainty.
Gone were the days of thinking that maybe they’d endured their last encounter with trouble before they reached home. That had always been something he’d clung to, no matter how unlikely, but that hope had vanished, along with their chances of avoiding future conflicts. As those who survived began to emerge from hiding, their number of encounters would increase. And while they wouldn’t all be bad people, there would be no shortage of those who sought to do them harm and take what they had.
Ben adjusted himself in the seat and watched the Scout for a minute or two before dumping a few boxes of .223 onto the open road atlas in his lap. He began loading the empty magazines as he thought about what the day might hold for them. In some ways, not knowing what would try to do them in today, recent troubles excluded, was the hardest part. They’d seen more action in the last few days than they had all trip.
He wanted nothing more than to chisel away at the mileage standing between them and home, but reaching Colorado was starting to feel more like their secondary objective. Their first had become staying alive.
Chapter Sixteen
It wasn’t even eight o’clock in the morning yet and Ben could already feel the intensity of the sun’s rays on his arm resting out the window. It was going to be another scorcher, maybe the hottest day yet. With clear skies as far as they could see in every direction, there would be no relief from the sun today while they traveled.
They’d have to pace themselves and keep an eye on the vehicles so they didn’t overheat. Ben wished he’d mentioned the possibility of overheating to Martin; hopefully the guy knew enough to watch his gauges. The Scout worried Ben the most, but that had as much to do with the driver as it did with the
vehicle. Ideally, Martin would take their little talk to heart and amend his bad habits behind the wheel. But there was no guarantee against mechanical failure, a constant anxiety Ben had learned to live with.
He watched the convoy of trucks snake around the hollowed-out and blackened frame of a delivery truck blocking half of the road, the Jeep leading the way. Rita and Carlos were next in line, and as Ben expected, Rita slowed the Toyota down more than necessary in order to navigate around the wreck, which took up the better part of the right-hand lane.
He’d noticed Rita’s lack of confidence yesterday with some of the driving, but what choice did they have? Her husband was still too weak to take the wheel, and if Allie took over driving the Toyota again, Joel would be alone with his little brother and Carlos. Ben liked the idea of Allie riding in the Jeep with the boys. She was a competent shot and a level head when the chips were down. Additionally, the two of them made a good team, and it did Ben good to see them together. They had both lost so much, and with so many things beyond their control these days, Ben felt like the least he could do was give them time together. They were clearly in love, and it was a bright spot in an otherwise bleak world that for the most part lacked civility.
Besides, the older couple would have to go it alone eventually when it came time to part ways, which Ben thought might be as soon as sometime tomorrow. But then again, at this rate of speed, it might take longer. The only thing he’d wanted to do this morning was get back on the road as quickly as possible, and now that they were, he wished they could somehow fast-forward and skip the monotony included with a day’s worth of slow traveling.
Ben was grateful that Sandy was driving and letting him rest his knee. He made sure to move it around once in a while, at least as much as he could in the confines of the passenger seat. He finished loading the empty magazines and stacked them neatly in the center console, along with the road atlas. He’d studied the map so much lately he felt that he could finish the trip without it, including the detours he planned around the larger cities.
Youngstown, Ohio, was the next major city they would have to deal with. Ben was hoping to skirt by to the north. According to the map, the interstate appeared to run far enough outside the city limits to satisfy him. He had begun to reconsider, however, and based on this morning’s events, he thought a more northerly route would be wiser. If there was a growing number of survivors out and about, it would be in their best interest to avoid the more populated areas, even if it meant going a little farther out of their way.
Avoiding people had been their plan from the start, but he felt it was more important now than ever to make sure they did their best to abide by that rule. They’d gotten complacent on the trip east, passing through many towns along the way without seeing a soul. Ben feared those days were over, and even worse, the people they encountered from here on out were going to be desperate, and desperation could drive a person to do anything in the name of survival. As much as he liked to think they’d seen the worst of their trip so far, something told him they hadn’t.
Ben leaned to the left and then rocked back the other way with the Blazer as Sandy steered around a small accident. A newer-model Jeep, like his back in Durango, had been rear-ended by a small sedan of some sort. The car was wedged halfway under the Jeep, the result of a high-speed impact. Ben imagined the Jeep dying when the EMPs hit and then sitting dead on the road in the foggy early-morning hours. The sedan’s engine held out a little longer for whatever reason and came up on the Jeep out of nowhere. Judging by the lack of tire marks on the road, Ben thought the sedan never even hit the brakes.
The driver and passenger of the car must have died instantly, and from the looks of things, they were the lucky ones. The sedan had forced the front end of the small SUV off the road and into the median, causing a piece of guardrail to peel up and skewer the Jeep’s windshield. Remarkably, neither car had burned, like so many others, and the lack of a fire was what had initially drawn Ben’s attention.
But as they passed, something else caused him to stare. Two cracked and bloody spots on the punctured windshield indicated the driver and passenger of the Jeep hadn’t fared too well. The swarm of flies hovering near the busted-out windows confirmed it.
Sandy gave the blazer a little gas as she straightened out the wheel. Ben turned a little in the seat. For some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to look away. Eventually, the wreck became obscured from view by overgrown vegetation. With some of the weeds reaching as high as the windows on the Jeep, it looked like it had been sitting there for years rather than weeks.
Ben wondered if there had been any passengers in the back of either vehicle or if anyone survived. It was possible, since the cars hadn’t caught on fire. It was a testament to the times they were living in, though, that his initial instinct was to feel worse for the people who had possibly made it out alive than for those who perished immediately upon impact. He couldn’t imagine the survivors making it far on foot in this heat, especially if they were wounded. With no help for miles around, it wouldn’t end well for anyone who managed to walk away.
“You never really get used to it, do you?” Sandy noticed him watching the wreck as they passed.
“No, not really. Strange that the cars weren’t burned, though.”
“Yeah, I noticed that, too.”
“I guess it’s a good thing, right? Not getting used to seeing things like that.” Sandy glanced at the rearview mirror.
“Yeah, some days I notice it more than others.” Ben checked on Emma, who was still reading. She’d mastered the art of ignoring the outside world, and Ben was a little jealous at times. Sam had resigned herself to the makeshift bed among the gear in the back, and Bajer was stretched out across the seat with her head resting on Emma’s leg. The poor dog was so thankful to have been rescued from the moonshiners’ compound she might never let Emma out of her sight again.
When he turned around, Ben was glad to see the silhouette of a large highway sign up ahead. Sandy repositioned her hands on the wheel and sat up a little. She seemed just as happy to see the sign. It was the first one they’d seen since leaving Falls Creek, and Ben was anxious to see actual mileage for some of the places they had to pass through. He’d given up on the mile markers some time ago. They’d slowed down too many times, and he couldn’t read the numbers off the ones he’d been able to pick out among the weeds.
He knew approximately where they should be, but it would be nice to know how many miles they had to go until they could leave this state behind. They’d been here far too long and were worse off for it. Ben was almost afraid to read the sign out of fear he would be disappointed with how little progress they had made so far today. He knew they’d been averaging between forty-five and fifty-five miles per hour on the open sections of highway, but there were also plenty of times when he glanced over at the speedometer and saw it hovering below twenty while they navigated through some of the more congested sections.
What concerned him the most, though, was the fact that they hadn’t passed by Brookeville yet. It was the next closest town on the map, and according to his measurements, it shouldn’t have been too much farther.
“Brookville exit, two miles. Ninety-five miles to Youngstown, Ohio.” Ben read the sign out loud. It was worse than he thought. He looked at his watch and re-ran the numbers in his head.
“What’s wrong?” Sandy asked.
“That can’t be right.” Ben ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “We’ve gone less than thirty miles in the last hour.”
“Is that all? I thought we’d been driving for a lot longer.” Sandy sounded as disappointed about the time as he was about the mileage, and rightfully so. Ben heard Emma sigh loudly from the back seat. Unless something changed, this was going to be a much longer day than he anticipated. They were still deep in the foothills of the Appalachians. Maybe the road would open up a bit more. As it was, with the other side of the highway being unreachable due to the heavily forested and overgrown median, th
ey were limited to the westbound lanes of travel.
Of course, when the landscape did open up more and start to flatten out, they would lose what little shade they had been enjoying through some of the denser sections of trees. There weren’t many leaves on the trees, but the dead foliage still clinging to the branches, along with the thinner but more resilient pines, provided sporadic relief from the direct sunlight. However, the constant flashes of light caused by the sun passing behind the trees created a hypnotic effect, and Ben felt himself getting drowsy on a few occasions already this morning. But he refused to leave Sandy alone and fought the urge to nap.
Ben went over the math in his head a few times and guessed they were likely to end up somewhere between Youngstown and Akron. And he could live with that, mostly because it would put them at the separation point from Rita and Carlos in the middle of the day tomorrow. The reasoning was selfish, but he’d feel less guilty sending the older couple off on their own in broad daylight than close to dark. And it would alleviate him and the others from feeling obligated to stop and spend another night before parting ways, if it was early enough in the day.
It wasn’t that he meant Rita or her husband any ill-will. Quite the opposite, in fact. In some ways, they even reminded Ben of his own parents. They were very friendly and got along well with the group, but every time he saw the Toyota’s brake lights and felt their convoy slow, his desire to prolong their involvement with the couple any longer than necessary began to wane.
Ben tried to stop thinking about schedules and wasted time. Stressing over their speed, or lack thereof, wouldn’t change anything. He tried to tell himself, like he had in the past, that it was better to be cautious and safe than fast. But repeating that mantra didn’t seem to quell the anxiety he felt about their traveling arrangements. The only thing he didn’t need convincing of was that it was going to be a rough day if he kept beating himself up over their current situation.