The America Falls Series: Books 1-3 : America Falls Box Set 1

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The America Falls Series: Books 1-3 : America Falls Box Set 1 Page 25

by Scott Medbury


  “Ah, well, perhaps someday you’ll be able to match my profound wisdom,” Sonny said, smiling. “I’m going to have to slow down, the snow’s falling so much harder here. I think there is a rest stop coming up pretty soon now; do you think we should stop to stretch our legs and let those in the back use the facilities?”

  “Not just those in the back,” Indigo said. “I could use a pit stop myself.”

  “Yeah, we’ll stop,” I said, looking out at the blowing snow. “But we can’t stay too long. We’ll stretch, use the bathrooms, and then get on the road again.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Sonny replied, moving over into the far right lane so he could exit when it came up. No more than five minutes later, he was pulling off.

  The rest stop had a small gravel parking lot, two cinderblock restrooms, and a snow covered picnic area. There were three picnic tables and a covered brick barbecue. Sonny pulled the truck up in the parking lot close to the restrooms. As soon as he turned the engine off, I opened my door and ran around to the back of the truck before pounding on the door.

  “We’re at a rest stop,” I called. “Anybody who has to use the facilities or just wants to stretch is welcome to do so.”

  I unlatched the handle and pushed the rolling door part way up before a hand grabbed it from inside and helped pull it up. The filtered moonlight revealed Ben’s smiling face.

  “I thought you’d never ask!”

  13

  A sleepy Luke and I searched the men’s bathroom. We kept the crossbow and pistol at the ready and searched every stall with our flashlights, making sure that nobody or nothing was lurking there to endanger those who needed to go. While we were doing that, Allie and Indigo did the same thing in the ladies’ block, Indigo armed with the revolver I’d given her and Allie with one of the Chinese assault rifles we had. Sonny was waiting in the truck, not wanting to risk turning off the engine. He would go when we were done.

  “You know I only have to pee because you woke my ass up, right?” Luke said, shining his flashlight into the final stall.

  “Sonny wanted to stop, and I thought it would be a welcome relief to you guys, too.” I said. “I know there is no heater back there ...”

  “There are no gigantic wind tunnels caused by missing windows either,” Luke said, stepping into the last stall and began to relieve himself. “Heat or not, so far my ride back there has been toasty compared to the time I spent in the passenger seat of that truck.”

  I picked a stall and entered, putting my pistol on the square toilet roll dispenser. I looked up at the cobwebbed semi-open ceiling as I did my business and was nearly through my long awaited whiz when a yell from outside made me jump and pee over the rim of the toilet.

  “DON’T MOVE!”

  It was Sonny.

  Almost immediately, a girl screamed but was immediately drowned out by the deep roar of what could only be an animal. Shit! Adrenalin shot through my system as I desperately finished and pulled up my zipper. I snatched up my gun and ran out of the stall; Luke was already ahead of me and disappeared through the door outside.

  The sight that greeted me was surreal. It was Allie, frozen to the spot just outside the door to the other cinderblock building, holding the assault rifle in quivering hands as she raised it and aimed at the black bear just a few feet in front of her.

  Now, I know black bears are supposed to be smaller than grizzlies or brown bears, but this one had reared up on its hind legs and looked massive in the small clearing. It was roaring at Allie and, I have to admit, I was glad I had recently relieved myself because that angry bear was terrifying.

  I aimed my pistol at it and saw Luke do the same with his crossbow.

  “Don’t shoot!” a desperate voice called from our left. Indigo had crept up behind Allie and now had a calming hand on her upper arm. “Don’t shoot him.”

  I had no idea if the bear was a him or a her, and I’m not sure if Indigo did either, but the bear stopped its display of aggression and seemed to be weighing up its options now that it was faced with so many of us. Ben and Brooke were near the back of the truck, Brooke staring in fascinated horror at the wild creature.

  “What do you suggest we do if we’re not going to shoot it, Indigo?” I asked, genuinely hoping for a non-violent solution to our big furry problem.

  “I think we should make a lot of noise, all at the same time, to scare him away. You should fire your gun in the air. That should do it.”

  It was almost comical, but the bear seemed to be listening to her, its big brown eyes never leaving her. I definitely didn’t want to kill it ... him.

  “Okay, after three, make all the noise you can. If it goes bad, run away as fast as you can and Luke and I will take him down. Okay?”

  Everyone agreed in apprehensive whispers and I could see Sonny looking at me, from where he sat in the truck with the door half open. He nodded in approval.

  “One ... two ... three ... now!”

  Everyone roared, sang, and yelled at the bear. Next to me, Luke was doing some crazy American-Indian dance and hopping from one foot to the other as he waved his crossbow wildly over his head. In another time and place, I may have burst out laughing but, as if to emphasize the gravity of the situation, the bear again roared, took a step back, and fell to all four paws before swinging his head from the girls, back to us, and then to Ben and Brooke.

  I believe he may have found Luke’s overenthusiastic dance particularly threatening, because he turned back to us and bared his teeth. I knew instantly he was going to charge and I fired my gun over his head at the exact moment Sonny punched the horn of the truck. The next two seconds were the longest of my life. The bear froze where he was, his big eyes now on me.

  I lowered my gun until it was pointing at his forehead. Time seemed to slow and I could hear my heartbeat in my ear. I began to squeeze the trigger as the horn continued to blare in the cold night ... then it was over.

  The bear turned and trotted off into the trees lining the rest stop as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Gone. As simple as that. I exhaled slowly, my breath pluming in the frigid night air, and slowly lowered my weapon.

  “Did you see that?” Luke asked incredulously as the others walked over to us. “Why the hell isn’t he hibernating?”

  “He is winter walking,” said Indigo. “They do that sometimes.”

  “Thank goodness,” said Ben. “Well, I don’t know if it was the gunshot or your silly dance that got the better of him, but I think we dodged a bullet there.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think it was the dancing though, that just seemed to make him madder,” said Brooke, and we all laughed as Luke gave an encore.

  We spent another 10 minutes at the stop while everyone had their toilet breaks. Sonny was the last to go as I stood by the driver’s door of the idling truck. I snuck a look at the fuel gauge. It was under a half a tank full now and I hoped it would be enough to get us close to Campton. Ben approached, gazing up at the sky as he walked.

  “Well, with all this snow and the cloud cover, at least we know that they won't be tracking us by satellite, hey?” he said, joining me while his twin sister was in the bathroom. “Might make it easier to track us on the ground though, you think?”

  “If it keeps snowing like this, there is a decent chance that it’ll cover our tracks by morning,” I replied.

  “God willing,” Ben said. Yeah, as if God cares. “Are you planning on staying up front?”

  “Unless somebody else really has a burning desire to replace me up there,” I said. “It’s cold and miserable, but does have the advantage of having windows to look out of.”

  “I plan to keep my place in the back of the truck,” Ben said. “Brooke mentioned the same. The supplies are secured better this time, and hopefully there will be no careening off military vehicles and barricades in this next portion of the trip.”

  “Well, Sonny actually has a driver’s license, so there’s a better chance of avoiding such things. Better than with me beh
ind the wheel, at least.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up about it, mate, you were doing the best you could, yeah? And you managed to get most of us out of there alive and in one piece.”

  “Thanks, Ben. That means a lot to me, knowing how you all feel ... people keep telling me I am being too hard on myself.”

  “You are, but that’s a part of who you are and what makes you a good leader,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder. Brooke emerged from the female toilets and began limping toward us. Ben glanced over his shoulder.

  “I’m going to go help Brooke back to the truck. Talk to you later, mate,” Ben said, as he walked over and offered her his arm to lean on.

  I could tell she was still troubled by her twisted ankle and I worried it might cause some complications later in the night or the next morning when we finally abandoned the truck. It made me conscious of my own injuries. Apart from my stinging cheek, which Indigo had put Band-Aids over, and some general stiffness and sore ribs, I felt surprisingly okay.

  Sonny returned from his toilet break after a few minutes and I made sure everybody was back where they belonged and ready to roll. I pulled the roller door down and latched it. Sonny and Indigo were already back in the cab, so I clambered up into the passenger side seat and closed my door.

  As the truck started and the headlights came on, I thought about the falling snow and how it seemed to bring bad luck to me ever since leaving the Fosters’ residence. Where would I be if I’d stayed there? Captured by looters ... or the Chinese ... dead? Perhaps. Who could say?

  “Did you get any encouraging words from Luke?” Indigo asked, as we pulled back out onto the freeway.

  “Not really,” I said, chuckling. “Not with all the excitement. I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m not without hope, just a cynical pessimist.”

  “I can see that,” she replied, smiling as she put her arm back around me and leaned in close for warmth.

  “You think I am a cynical pessimist?”

  “I wouldn’t like you so much if you were,” she replied, snuggling closer to my shoulder.

  “Someone once said ‘there is nothing more pitiful than a young cynic, because they have gone from doing nothing to believing in nothing,’” Sonny said.

  I knew he was teasing, but his comment stung a little. That saying was from a world much different to the one we now lived in.

  “Well, there’s one good thing about my outlook,” I said, deciding not to take it to heart. “When good things do unexpectedly happen, I get a pleasant surprise.”

  “Like the bear?” asked Indigo.

  “Yeah, that was good, and definitely unexpected.”

  “All jokes aside,” said Sonny. “You both did really well back there. You two make a good team.”

  Our eyes met and Indigo smiled before looking back to the road ahead.

  After a few more miles, the two sides of the freeway merged together and, with no median between them, became more like a four lane highway. Soon we saw roads and even driveways coming directly off of it. We continued travelling north at a speed of about 30 miles per hour. It was all the speed Sonny dared, given the swirling snow and limited visibility.

  It took us nearly half an hour to get to the town of Hillsboro, New Hampshire. Here, the highway we were following merged with another and turned east toward Concord. We were mostly quiet during that leg of the trip. Sonny was concentrating on the road ahead and Indigo snuggled against me with her eyes closed. At one point, she began to snore, surprisingly loud for such a sweet girl, so I nudged her a little bit and she squirmed around and continued sleeping, but at least the snoring stopped.

  “About five or seven miles further up the road we are going to come to another freeway. Do you think we should stay on the highway or take the freeway in and through Concord?” Sonny asked, as we were leaving Hillsboro behind.

  “I think there’s good and bad about taking the freeway,” I replied. “The fact that they have limited access means we have fewer directions danger can approach from.”

  “True enough.”

  “But, on the other hand, that advantage can turn into a disadvantage because, if we do meet trouble on the freeway, there are fewer opportunities for escape.”

  “Also true.”

  “We are taking a freeway out of Concord, no matter what road we take in, aren’t we?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Then maybe it would be easier to get on here, assuming this freeway connects to one leading north. That way, we won’t have to hunt for freeway entrances while we’re navigating through the city, we just skirt around it.”

  “Sounds like a decent plan, but what if the Chinese have occupied Concord? It seems likely to me that they’d be watching the freeways more closely than the side roads,” Sonny said.

  “Risk versus reward, I guess. Every decision we make has to take those aspects into account. By not taking the freeway, we risk running right into a Chinese patrol on one of the streets of the city with nowhere to run. Let’s take the freeway.”

  “You’re really starting to sound like one sometimes,” he replied, glancing at me with a small smile.

  “Starting to sound like what?”

  “A leader.”

  Less than 10 minutes later, we were approaching the on-ramp to the freeway and Sonny pulled the truck to a stop. At first, I didn't realize why. He was staring at the freeway as it stretched into the distance, an incredulous look on his face.

  “What…?” I began, before it hit me like a slap in the face. We could see the freeway stretching into the distance because the row of streetlights running along it were blazing, the light reflected by the snow. The freeway glowed, a white ribbon in the middle of a dark night. On this section of road at least, the Chinese had turned the power back on.

  Indigo stirred between us and opened her eyes.

  “Lights…”

  “Yep,” I said. “Maybe sticking to the side roads and going through the city would be for the best after all.”

  Part Three: Bloody Nose

  14

  We continued on highway 202. It followed the freeway close enough that we could see its lights blazing though the trees. This went on for maybe four miles before the freeway veered off to the south east and we continued on toward the heart of Concord.

  Reaching the outskirts of the city, we saw the freeway was not the only place where streetlights were working, although, none of the houses or buildings we passed seemed to have any lights on. The snow was still falling, even thicker now, with the large flakes clumping together in the air. Concord was eerie, the streetlights illuminating what was essentially a ghost town.

  “If the electricity is on, I'd bet a hundred bucks that the Chinese have troops here,” Indigo said.

  “I’d say so, but there’s not much we can do about it, if we want to get to Drake Mountain,” Sonny said.

  “Maybe you should turn the headlights off,” I said. “The snow is reflecting enough light from the streetlights that we don’t really need it.”

  He followed my suggestion. The road was still plenty visible in the ambient glow of the streetlights and hopefully we’d now be less noticeable.

  “Should we stop and ask the others their opinions about this new development or should we just keep pushing on?” I asked.

  “I think push on,” said Indigo, with a frown creasing her face. “Like Sonny said, there isn’t much we can do about it, short of scrapping the trip altogether, and do we really have anywhere else we can go?”

  “Could we turn back and loop around, avoiding this city?” I asked Sonny.

  “Probably,” he said. “But it would use a lot of gas up to do that. The roundabout way is long, all the way through Vermont and back.”

  I looked at the gas gauge on the dashboard. It now read a little over a third of a tank. “Darn it, this thing gets horrible mileage.”

  “What do you expect? It’s a rental truck,” Sonny said lightly. “Look, throw in the fact we don’t know if
any other way we go is actually going to be safer than this way or not and I think it’s better we stick with this route.”

  He paused at a traffic light which was blinking red. I was thankful we were the only ones that appeared to be out on this cold night.

  “Maybe we could get some gas,” Indigo said. “If the lights are working, the pumps might be, too. We just need to find a gas station.”

  “No, Sony’s right,” I said, shaking my head. “It would be too dangerous to stop and try and get fuel. I guess we stick to the plan unless we come across a real threat.”

  “Okay. We push ahead,” Sonny agreed, pulling through the intersection and continuing his drive deeper into the city.

  Street signs indicated that if we continued down the highway, we'd eventually reach Interstate 93, the freeway that should take us north to Lincoln. From there we could join the road leading to Drake Mountain Resort.

  According to Indigo, who was examining the atlas, it was about 30 miles or more to Campton, where we planned to ditch the truck, and another five from there to Lincoln. Sonny said from Lincoln to the ski lodge, where we assumed the safe haven was, was another couple of miles, so it looked like we’d be walking at least seven miles. I desperately hoped it would stop snowing by then.

  The drive through Concord was eerie, the emptiness only highlighted by the illumination of the streetlights. I couldn’t help looking at the rows of darkened houses, wondering how many dead Americans were entombed in the snow-topped buildings. I shuddered.

  Indigo saw it first.

  “There’s a building with lights on up there,” she said, pointing ahead. “We might want to take a side street and go around.”

  Following her finger, I saw what looked to be a squat building about two blocks up on the right. There was a neon Budweiser sign lighting up the street in front of it. Sonny slowed the speed of the truck and we inched closer.

  I could see there were four Humvees parked in the small lot. Clearly, the soldiers were inside the bar, probably enjoying some leisure time. Something about Chinese troops sitting around drinking in an American bar, while its former owners rotted in their homes all around them, stung me badly.

 

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