Desperation

by Bruno Miller

  “Then what?” Allie called out from inside the Jeep.

  Ben pointed upriver. “There, but we’ll have to go through a small town to get to it.” From where they were, Ben could see the Emlenton bridge and a little of the town. It was just a couple of miles away, as the crow flew.

  “That’s not too far.” Martin held his hand over his eyes to block the sun.

  “It’s not the distance that worries me. We should stick close together through town, weapons ready. I’ll lead the way this time, okay?” The others nodded and Ben turned toward the Blazer.

  “Dad…what happened with the guy in the Mustang? Sandy said there were a couple bikers, too,” Joel asked.

  “I don’t think we’ll be seeing any more of them. I can tell you about it later if you want. Right now, I just want to get off this bridge.” He did his best not to sound rude or dismissive, but this wasn’t the place or time to have a conversation. Ben turned and headed for the Blazer before Joel had a chance to respond. They’d been here too long already.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  It took more than a few minutes to back their way out to a point where they could execute a very tight three-point turn and head east toward the exit. The single lane and concrete barricades lining the road on both sides made for a slow extraction from the bridge, and the fact that they were extremely vulnerable while getting turned around wasn’t lost on Ben.

  The disappointment of not being able to cross the river here was a hard pill to swallow, albeit not an unexpected one, but Ben was happy to be off the bridge and moving at a decent speed again. It felt strange to be heading east and driving down the wrong side of the highway. It made more sense than trying to cross over the median through waist-high or taller vegetation, though. When they’d done it before, it was a calculated risk and the grass was shorter. They could see the larger pieces of debris or wreckage and avoid them, but now there was no telling what was hidden from sight among the overgrowth. It wouldn’t take much to puncture a tire or tear something loose from the undercarriage.

  Ben thought about taking the wheel for a while, especially now, with them heading into town, but he decided to leave things as they were. He’d drive after they crossed the river and stopped to refill their water containers. For the time being, he preferred having Sandy behind the wheel so he could be free to defend them from threats. When Joel asked about the Mustang, Ben told him he didn’t think they would see it again, but he wasn’t sure about that. And as they headed the wrong way down the interstate, Ben couldn’t shake the image of running head-on into the old armor-clad Ford and the bike. A part of him, the part that wanted closure on the conflict, wished they would meet again. He hated feeling like he had to keep one eye behind them at all times.

  The only good thing about their detour was that the new route would likely throw anyone following them off their trail or at least reduce the odds of being found. In the event the Mustang was still out there, looking for them, the driver would have no way of knowing which way Ben and the others went to continue around the bridge.

  Leaving the interstate for a while might be the best move right now. They’d pick it up again a few miles on the other side of Emlenton, but it would be a while before they were back on I-80. The Mustang had been close enough for the driver to see the Colorado plates on the Blazer, so it wouldn’t take much to figure out they were headed west and would likely use the interstate to make the best time.

  Ben removed his sunglasses and wiped the sweat from his face with a rag. He was overthinking this and spending too much time worrying about something that might never happen. Maybe the heat was starting to get to him.

  “You feeling all right?” Sandy asked.

  “Yeah, just can’t stop thinking about this morning,” Ben confessed.

  “Are you worried they might still come after us?”

  Ben shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe a little.”

  “I bet they don’t even have their car fixed yet. It looked to be in pretty bad shape,” Sandy said.

  “You’re probably right.” He nodded and turned to see if Emma was paying attention to their conversation, but she was still drawing in her notebook.

  “There it is. I see the exit up ahead.” Sandy took her foot off the gas as they approached. Ben watched the string of vehicles follow the Blazer through a sharp turn onto the ramp. The exit led them onto a small two-lane road that wound its way through the woods for longer than Ben would have expected, based on what he saw on the map.

  They passed over a small bridge spanning a steep ravine and a stream of fast-moving water. Ben was tempted to suggest they stop right here for water, but it wasn’t ideal. The ravine was too steep and rocky, and the water was a good thirty feet down from the road. From what he could see, the stream looked clean, though, and that was encouraging, but right now, he just wanted to get across the river.

  Once they made it through town and were safely on the west side of the Allegheny, he felt like they could relax a little. He’d studied the road atlas well, and as far as he could tell, once they were through here, it was a clear shot to the Ohio border. He couldn’t wait to open the map to a new state, anything other than Pennsylvania. They’d had nothing but trouble in this area, starting with the night they tangled with the bears.

  In the time it took them to almost get through this state, they had traveled halfway across the country on their trip east. To say it was frustrating was an understatement. He always knew it would take more time because of the northern route they had chosen in order to avoid Pittsburgh, but he never would have imagined it would go like this.

  Ben tried to curb his optimism for the time being. There was still no guarantee this bridge would be open, either, and he regretted not taking a look at it through his scope when he had the opportunity. Maybe he would have if he hadn’t been in such a hurry to get moving. They’d know for sure in another mile or two.

  They had to be close now; they were starting to see the remains of buildings, some burned to the ground, others destroyed by looters. Most of them were houses, but as they rounded the bend onto Main Street, they suddenly found themselves on a very narrow road surrounded by commercial buildings on either side. The exhaust echoed off the building, making it impossible to hear anything but the Blazer. It felt cramped and made Ben uneasy. Some of the shattered storefront windows were less than a few paces away from the truck as they passed by.

  Ben slid the KSG across his lap and let it rest partway out the window. So far, they hadn’t seen any people, and he was hoping it stayed that way. Maybe the heat was keeping them inside, or maybe there was no one left here. He also noticed that Emma was no longer drawing. Instead, she sat quietly, looking out the window. Even Bajer and Sam were anxious and sitting upright, their ears raised while they searched the passing buildings.

  “There’s a sign for the interstate. Follow it?” Sandy asked.

  “Yeah, that should lead us to the bridge.” Ben saw the sign, too; it looked like a left at the intersection ahead would lead them out of town. He checked on the other vehicles behind them. Joel was bringing up the rear now, something Ben wasn’t very happy about. The Scrambler was too far back for his comfort, and the spread between the vehicles was too large.

  “Stop at the intersection for a while and let everyone catch up,” Ben said.

  “Okay.” Sandy let the Blazer coast.

  “I don’t like this place. It’s creepy.” Emma was slouched down in her seat and leaning toward the middle.

  “Try to pick up the pace a little. Over.” Ben knew the distance between the vehicles had nothing to do with Joel’s driving, but maybe a push from the back would encourage Rita and Martin to speed up.

  The Blazer rolled to a stop at the intersection of Main and Kerr Avenue. Straight ahead was a park sign for the Allegheny River Trail, and the road to the right led farther into town. The left was what they wanted, and the bright blue sign that read I-80 WEST pointed the way to the bridge and the interstate beyond.

/>   To Ben’s immediate left was what was left of the Emlenton fire department. The roof had caved in, but the concrete structure still stood. The trucks were all lined up inside but burned and covered with debris from the collapse. On the right side of the Blazer was a Uni-Mart, a small convenience store and gas station, long ago picked clean by looters. Ben felt a little better now that the rows of buildings lining Main Street so closely had given way to a more open area of town. There was more than just a sidewalk separating them from the broken and battered storefronts, but it was still tight. Although he hated having to stop the Blazer here, if he and Sandy continued around the corner, they would lose sight of the others.

  Rita finally caught up to them, and Sandy started to make the turn toward the bridge. Ben leaned forward in his seat, not knowing what to expect but hoping for the best. Once out in the intersection, they could see the bridge clearly. It was less than a half mile away and it looked wide open. A sense of relief washed over him when he laid eyes on the two open lanes. But the feeling didn’t last long. When he turned to make sure the others were following, he saw Martin steer the Scout into the Uni-Mart parking lot.

  Ben sighed. “What is he doing?”

  “We’re stopping here?” Emma asked nervously.

  “No. I don’t know what’s going on.” The idea that Martin might be having some type of mechanical problem crossed Ben’s mind. But when the Scout came to a controlled stop near the underground tank access caps protruding from the asphalt, Ben knew he was out of gas.

  “Joel, can you find out what’s going on with Martin and get back to me? This isn’t a good place to stop. Over.”

  “Copy that. Over.” Ben watched as the Jeep veered off the road and drove over the sidewalk to get next to the Scout. Allie leaned out the window and started talking with Martin. A few seconds passed before the radio crackled to life.

  “He’s low on fuel. Less than a quarter tank. Over.” Ben was furious. Why would he wait until now to mention he needed fuel? He could have said something back at the bridge.

  “Great timing. We could have stopped back on the interstate somewhere. We passed at least a dozen places in the last hour alone,” Sandy huffed. She was mad, too, and rightfully so. She understood the dangers of fueling up in a place like this. They couldn’t see farther than twenty yards in most directions, and in some instances, the buildings blocked their view entirely.

  Ben thought for a second. “How’s the Jeep on gas? Over.”

  “We’ve got just under half a tank. Over,” Joel answered.

  “Copy that. Sit tight for a second. Over.” Ben glanced at the Blazer’s fuel gauge and confirmed they had about the same. He was hoping to stop and fill all the vehicles somewhere more remote, like at a standalone gas station off the interstate.

  “Pull the truck up enough for Rita to make the turn and get behind us, but don’t go past the gas station. I’ll be right back.” Ben held onto the KSG and slid out of the Blazer. He barely even noticed the pain in his leg as he walked back toward the Toyota and waved Rita forward. She slowed as they passed Ben.

  “How much gas do you have?” he asked her.

  “Over half a tank.”

  “Okay, good. I want you guys to go ahead and cross the bridge. Wait for us on the other side, okay?” Ben walked backward a few steps to keep pace with the Toyota while he spoke.

  Rita and Carlos both nodded.

  “Let them by. They’re going to cross over and wait,” Ben called out to Sandy, who was leaning out her window and waiting for instructions. He originally thought he wanted the Toyota to at least be in position to roll out quickly if the need arose, but the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of them being removed from the equation altogether. If they had to make a hasty exit from town, Rita’s driving abilities would slow them down too much.

  Ben wasn’t sure what was more disappointing: the fact that Martin wasn’t communicating with the group and making decisions on his own or that the Scout was an absolute gas hog. He hadn’t expected the fuel economy to be great, but this was ridiculous. Overloading the Scout with ammunition and guns wasn’t helping any, and at this rate, they’d have to make twice as many stops. The supped-up International was going to cost them a lot of time.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Ben started for the Scout but stopped halfway across the narrow two-lane street when he heard a noise.

  “What is it?” Allie asked.

  “I’m not sure.” Ben kept watch down Main Street as he made his way to Martin. “This isn’t a good place to stop. How bad are you on gas?”

  “I’ve got a quarter tank, but I just figured since there was a gas station right here—”

  Ben cut Martin off before he could finish. “We need to decide things as a group. If you had let us known you were low, we could have topped you off with the jerry cans back at the bridge.”

  “I wasn’t thinking about it then, I guess.” Martin hung his head. Ben weighed their options for a moment. He considered putting at least one of the spare cans of fuel into the Scout since they were already stopped, but something about this place wasn’t sitting well with him.

  “Dad.” Joel opened the driver’s side door of the Jeep and stood up, looking back toward the section of town they’d just driven through. The expression on his son’s face matched the uneasy feeling in his stomach. Ben stepped back from the Scout and saw a small crowd of people moving their way. They were walking slowly but making steady progress toward the vehicles. Some of them had clubs or sections of pipe that had been crudely fashioned into weapons.

  One of the men had a sharpened pool cue, stained red with what Ben assumed was blood from another confrontation. The crowd reminded him of the meth-head looters from Falls Creek. Their clothes were tattered and soiled, and most of the group had visible scabs covering their bodies. It was like a scene from a low-budget horror movie, and it took a couple of seconds for Ben to accept what he was seeing was real.

  Then a man in the crowd threw an empty bottle their way. The glass shattered on the street, far from reaching them or doing any damage, but it seemed to incite his followers and motivate them to quicken their advance.

  “Drive! Go on. Get out of here.” Ben made eye contact with Joel as he backed away from the Scout and leveled the KSG at the advancing crowd. There were too many people for him to handle on his own, but he was hoping the shotgun would be enough of a deterrent to at least slow them down. He only needed to buy enough time for Joel and Martin to get out of there.

  Joel looked like he wanted to argue but dropped back inside the Jeep and closed the door. He’d been smart and left the Jeep running when they pulled in to check on Martin, and it was only a matter of seconds before he was sitting next to the Blazer and ready to go. The Scout, however, was a different story.

  Martin had turned the truck off after pulling in for fuel, and now he was having trouble getting it started again.

  “Don’t flood it,” Ben yelled without looking away from the advancing looters.

  Martin threw up his hands. “I’m trying.”

  The small crowd was growing in size as a few more stragglers joined from the shadows of the abandoned buildings. The mob seemed to be emboldened by the Scout’s mechanical trouble, and some of crowd started moving at an ungainly canter toward the gas station. None were carrying guns—none that Ben could see, anyway. But it didn’t make the threat any less deadly. The shotgun pointed in their direction seemed to have no effect on their advance. Ben thought about shooting the man he perceived to be the leader of the attack; that usually stopped the other, less-committed participants. But as he glanced back at the Blazer, he saw Emma peeking out from behind the seat.

  Ben couldn’t shoot a man who was armed with only a stick, not in front of his daughter. Or could he? If Martin couldn’t get the truck started, he might not have a choice. Aiming high, he unleashed one of the Dragon’s Breath rounds into the air above the mob. The magnesium-fueled fireball lit up the street above th
e crowd, stopping the looters in their tracks for a moment. Remnants of white-hot magnesium rained down on them in a shower of sparks. A few scattered, seeking shelter in the burnt-out storefronts.

  Ben was disappointed to see that most remained and collected themselves quickly to resume their advance. These were people who had nothing left to live for. Based on the looks on some of their faces, Ben thought they might rather be put out of their misery by a bullet than suffer another day of this post-apocalyptic hell.

  Ben flicked the lever and switched over to the barrel holding the double-aught buckshot. For the first time in his life, he hoped for a large spread on the steel shot, and with any luck, he’d be able to take out a couple of the looters with a single shell. He hated doing this while Emma and Brad had a front-row seat, but they were running out of time.

  “Come on, you stupid…”

  Bang!

  The Scout roared to life with an explosive backfire and a large puff of black smoke from the exhaust before Martin could finish screaming at it.

  “Go!” Ben yelled while backpedaling toward the Blazer. “Everybody, go!”

  Joel pulled out first in the Jeep and headed for the bridge. The Scout lurched forward when Martin threw it into gear and began moving out. But not before losing the rear window to a chunk of concrete thrown from the crowd. Several looters had made it to within reach of the fleeing Scout, and one of them lunged for the opening left by the broken window. The man caught the truck with one hand, but the broken glass cut into his palm and he let go after only being dragged a couple of feet. Landing on the pavement face-down, he was trampled by the others as they continued the chase.

  Sandy had the Blazer rolling and the passenger door open for Ben while he sprinted the rest of the way.

  “Go, go, go.” He threw the KSG into the truck, then grabbed the door and pulled himself inside. Before he had a chance to close it, Sandy stomped on the gas, pinning him to the back of his seat. By the time he was able to sit up and take stock of what had happened, the mob had dwindled to a few die-hards still chasing them but falling away fast as they sped off. They were nearly caught up to the Scout, which was now halfway across the bridge. Ben and Emma continued watching, along with Sam and Bajer, as the rest of the assailants gave up the chase and resorted to waving sticks at them.