by Nathan Jones
Although before they went to sleep Jane did a great job of reminding him that the personal reasons were pretty amazing, too.
“I wish you could come with us,” he said afterwards, kissing her tenderly.
His wife gave him a confused and slightly impatient look. “We both know and agree on why I should stay behind.”
“Right, I know,” Lewis answered, somewhere between amused and embarrassed. “But I still wish you could.”
She frowned for a moment, then her expression cleared. “Oh, that's one of those things people say when they mean they're going to miss you. In that case I wish I could go, too.”
He kissed her again. “Take care of Mom and Mary, okay? I know I can depend on Trev, but he's got his own family to worry about.”
Jane nodded. “I will. We'll handle things here while you're gone.”
Lewis knew they would. Which was why he could rest easy, figuratively as well as literally.
The next morning was drizzly and cold, and they got up early and made the few final preparations as quickly as they could to get in the truck and out of the weather. Although it wasn't the highest priority Lewis still hoped the vehicle's heater was working; no reason not to enjoy the available comforts.
Then they were ready to go, and last of all came the awkward last moments before departure where they said their final farewells.
Trev was first in line, pulling Lewis into a hug. “Well I guess for once you're going and I'm staying,” his cousin said with an easy grin as he stepped back. “I'll just be here doing my best to keep things going while you have your adventure south of the border.”
“About time I get to have some fun while you get stuck with the work,” Lewis joked back. “Stay safe here, and take care of everyone.”
“Always,” his cousin replied solemnly. “You stay safe too, and keep your eyes peeled for danger. Blockheads might've been invited to this trade summit as guests, but there's no guarantee they'll be peaceful. And they're not the only ones who might want to start something.”
“Yeah. Say goodbye to the rest of the family for me?” Trev nodded, and as Lewis moved on to shake hands with Rick and the others his cousin said his goodbyes to Gutierrez and wished Carrie a safe trip.
Jane had been waiting at the edge of the group. She'd never liked being in the middle of a crowd. Even though they'd already said their goodbyes last night, then again this morning, he still pulled her into a hug and kiss.
He spent a few moments just enjoying holding her, then gave her a last kiss and reluctantly pulled away to meet up with Gutierrez and Carrie. They were standing near the front of the truck with Matt, who wanted to give them the closest thing to an official sendoff he could manage under the circumstances. With only a few friends in the canyon his two traveling companions hadn't needed long for their goodbyes and had been waiting for Lewis, so now that he was ready it looked as if it was time to go.
Lewis was amused to see that even with such a small crowd Matt had still prepared a short speech for the occasion; his friend was settling well into the role of Mayor. Nothing too long or fancy, just that he wished them the best and their success on this trip could mean a much better situation for the town moving forward, as well as the chance for more convoy trips for food and other necessities that could help the town get back on its feet and eventually prosper.
Stuff everyone knew but people liked to hear said by the person in charge.
The small team who'd helped them with the final preparations applauded once Matt was finished, probably more due to the fact that they were now free to go home and get back to their lives. After giving Matt a final handshake Lewis piled in the truck with his two companions. Then the engine rumbled to life, and Lewis couldn't hear any potential problems from the sound of it as they started off.
There shouldn't be, after the hours he and Hank and a few others had spent tuning the beast up for this road trip. Along with the machinist's own expertise Lewis had manuals in his archives they could reference. When it came to vehicle repairs book learning came a far distant second to practical experience, but it was at least nice to have some understanding of what they were working on as they tinkered with things they only half understood until they finally functioned properly.
He hoped.
Carrie had the wheel, sort of a test drive to see if she felt comfortable doing her share of the driving in a large unwieldy truck with no depth perception. So far she was doing just fine as they headed down the canyon and along backroads to the waiting trailer.
It took a bit longer than expected to get its tires replaced. The bolts were rusty and the pump, not the fastest to begin with, had to fill each one from flat. Luckily it was just a matter of brute force and patience, which they had plenty of, and Lewis worked on the tail lights while they waited for the tires to fill.
An hour later they were bumping along the dirt road towards Highway 6. It was around a two hour drive to Moab under normal circumstances, but in a truck with a trailer, traveling cautiously in case they encountered any obstacles or threats, Lewis guessed it would take at least three.
The drive was uneventful. Actually it was almost eerie to follow a route he'd taken so many times and see all the structures burned down and numerous signs of fighting. The road was a mess where Sergeant Davis or squads of soldiers like his had sabotaged it, then the blockheads had made hasty repairs. Just enough for vehicles to pass without too much trouble, which was confirmed by every violent jolt and jump as they slowly maneuvered past them.
A couple hours along Carrie, who'd been watching the terrain around them give way to redstone hills and mesas, spoke up. “I can't believe how much the landscape's changed in just a few hours.”
“Is this your first time seeing it?” Lewis asked. He was currently at the wheel and needed to focus, not only on the road but on potential threats, but he wasn't blind to the beauty of southern Utah they were currently driving through.
The young woman nodded. “I'm a Missouri gal. We don't have anything like this around there.” She took in the scenery with a wide eye. “It's beautiful. It's . . .” she trailed off, apparently at a loss for words.
“Majestic?” Gutierrez suggested wryly. His friend didn't seem nearly as impressed, but then again he'd grown up in New Mexico and was familiar with this type of landscape. Although the rugged majesty of the national parks in southern Utah was hard to beat.
Carrie hadn't seen anything yet. And unfortunately wouldn't see the best parts, since they were just passing through.
Still, the young woman seemed impressed enough with what she did see. Her head swiveled left and right as she took everything in, and she didn't seem to tire of the view. Maybe part of that was boredom, even with the variety of songs from the playlist on Lewis's phone that was blasting through the speakers. But he was glad to see his home state was making an impression.
In spite of their slower pace it was hours before noon when they crossed the bridge over the Colorado River just north of Moab and came in sight of the tourist town. They were also treated to the view of a long line of trucks, semis, and escort vehicles parked along the street downtown and sprawled out in a few lots serving as camping sites.
It was an odd sight. Lewis had been down here several times to mountain bike or ride motorcycles or ATVs with friends and family. He'd walked along this Main Street, ducking into shops to browse or buy treats to eat as they continued on. The downtown was one of the big draws of Moab, something for adventuring tourists to come back to after a day of sightseeing in the nearby national parks, or conquering raw nature with a variety of vehicles or their own muscles and endurance. He'd spent hours strolling along the line of shop fronts as the sun set and temperatures cooled, mingling with a crowd of other tourists.
Now Moab was a ghost town, aside from the people in the convoy itself. The residents who'd been living here when the Gulf burned were nowhere in sight, not too surprising considering the desolate landscape. Lewis just hoped they'd managed to evacuate a
long the Colorado River to somewhere more hospitable, and hadn't all died of thirst or starvation waiting for help that never came.
They ran into a military checkpoint at the far end of the bridge. Apparently it was there to coordinate with new arrivals about their place in the convoy and rules and procedures, as well as filling them in on what they could expect to find at the trade summit.
Security and contraband came a distant second, since all approaches to Moab were visible from a ways off and any impending attack would be spotted long before the enemy arrived. In an extreme emergency they could even blow the bridge to make attack from the north impossible, or in the more likely event of an attack from the south flee across it and blow it behind them to completely prevent pursuit.
In spite of the low priority on checking for smuggling the soldiers did go over the truck and do a routine maintenance and safety inspection, to make sure the vehicle could get all the way to San Antonio in one piece. Which wasn't too much of a surprise.
The officer commanding the checkpoint was, though.
“Lieutenant Faraday!” Lewis called, happy to see the man.
Lieutenant Dell Faraday had been in charge of patrolling the border along the mountains just north of Aspen Hill during the fight against the blockheads, and had sent them help on more than one occasion. Including, as Grimes had revealed to Matt last fall, arranging for the town to receive extra supplies from the military windfall in compensation for their help and the donation of supplies and weapons.
He wanted to approach to shake the junior officer's hand, but given the armed soldiers who might take it the wrong way he opted to let Faraday come to him out on the bridge.
Which the lieutenant did, striding forward with a broad grin on his face. “Mr. Halsson, Mr. Gutierrez!” he said as he shook their hands. “Good to see Aspen Hill's joined us.” He turned to Carrie and gave her a polite nod. “Ms. Grant, Colonel Grimes requested I keep an eye out for you. He's extended an invitation for you to travel with his staff if you wish.”
Carrie gave Lewis and Gutierrez an uncertain look. “Thanks, but I'm good riding in the truck.”
“That's perfectly fine, ma'am. However, the Colonel would still like you to check in so his staff can brief you on what's expected of you once we reach the trade summit.”
The young woman shrugged her agreement, and Faraday quickly assigned a soldier to take a truck and drive her to the temporary headquarters, then after she was done with Grimes help her find where Lewis and Gutierrez had been directed to camp.
“The convoy will be here until tomorrow noon at the latest, depending on delays with arriving vehicles,” the lieutenant concluded. “You'll have a chance to explore the town, meet your fellow convoy members, or just rest and relax.”
That meant over a day of waiting. Lewis wasn't exactly complaining, since like the junior officer said it was a good chance to meet people. Anyone with a truck here obviously had resources to work with, which meant that Aspen Hill might find opportunities to trade with them as well; if the town could find what they needed closer to home it would be a shorter drive than a convoy to San Antonio, which was ideal in a lot of ways. Almost all ways, if the prospective trade partners offered similar bargaining rates to Mexico.
It was something to explore, anyway.
Once Carrie and her escort had driven off Faraday motioned for the other soldiers at the roadblock to get to work, while he pulled out a clipboard and pen. “We have to do a routine check,” he said apologetically. “Nothing major, but we'll poke around inside and I've got a few questions to ask.”
“Sure,” Lewis said. He wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea as a matter of principle. But military convoy, military rules. “It'll give us a chance to catch up while we wait.”
“More chance than you think,” the officer replied with a grin. “I'm the military's liaison to the convoy's civilian element. Meaning if you have any questions or problems you come to me with them.”
As his soldiers got to work Faraday motioned them toward what looked like an outdoor restaurant table complete with attached umbrella for shade, with half a dozen chairs scattered around it. Down south here the temperatures were a bit warmer, but still nowhere near enough to justify wanting to be out of the sun. Of course soldiers standing at a roadblock for hours might want to avoid getting sunburned.
The officer quickly took them through a few questions, such as where they'd come from and what community they represented, what trade goods they were bringing, how many people in their truck, what type of fuel they needed for refueling, and so on. It didn't take long, and once he was done they settled back to watch the soldiers finish their inspection.
“So how did you end up back in the Rockies?” Lewis asked. “Escort for General Erikson?”
With the news that General Erikson would be personally leading the convoy, Chauncey had started to pick up gossip on the radio about his movements. Apparently after pushing the blockheads out of the eastern States the General had left things there in the hands of the Canadians, effectively giving their military command of the troops he left behind to look after the remaining American citizens who now found themselves living in Canada. With Lassiter retired and going into politics Erikson had come back to Utah for good, to take over management of the US in the Rockies from Colonel Grimes.
Faraday shook his head. “No. General Lassiter actually, when he came back in December to retire and throw his hat in the political ring. None of us realized how difficult it was going to be getting a convoy home in the dead of winter.”
“So you wound up stuck here?” Lewis guessed.
The lieutenant nodded. “By the time we got to Manti the higher ups decided we wouldn't even attempt to get back out to the fighting, which wasn't really happening with winter going on anyway.” He grimaced. “Besides, Colonel Grimes was shorthanded and found plenty for us to do. Bit of a shame about the men we left behind to fight on without us, though.” He hesitated, glanced at Lewis then at Gutierrez, then shook his head and stared down at his clipboard, muttering to himself.
Lewis frowned. “What?”
Faraday gave a start and looked up and then away, almost guiltily. “Nothing, unfortunately. Just thinking about how selfish kids can be when they think they're being unselfish.”
Okay . . . “Are you, uh, talking about us?”
“What?” The lieutenant shook himself out of his thoughts. “No. just thinking of a promise I made to one of my new recruits. Most asked me to carry word if I happened to run into someone they knew back in the Rockies, or enquire after lost loved ones who might've found their way to a refugee camp. But the recruit in question asked for the exact opposite.”
Lewis couldn't help but wonder if the man had wandered into his own thoughts, or if it somehow had something to do with them. Except he didn't know anyone who'd gone east with the military to keep up the fight against the blockheads. The only one he could think of was Fred Vernon, but the former sheriff was hardly a kid.
After a slightly awkward silence Faraday glanced over at his soldiers and saw them waving the all clear. “Looks as if we're done with you,” he said, standing. “I'd like to get with you again soon to reminisce about old times, but not while I'm on duty.”
They followed the lieutenant back to their vehicle. After consulting a chart Faraday assigned them to a spot in a lot to park and set up camp, and even had one of his soldiers run and fetch a box of firewood, with a couple gallon jugs of water and a few bags of jerky sitting on top.
“We brought enough wood for everyone in the convoy to cook an evening meal and have it burning for a couple hours each night,” he said to Lewis's surprised look. “We've got chainsaws so we might gather more on the way if the opportunity presents itself, and if so we'll give it out. Be careful with the water, we've only got so much. Drinking and hand washing only.”
Lewis accepted the box and thanked the lieutenant. It was good to see him, and he did intend to take the man up on his offer to reconnect.
/> “You can carry weapons, but don't draw them for any reason other than self defense,” Faraday called as they hopped in the cab, Gutierrez taking the driver's seat. “And don't go in the buildings.”
Interesting. Moab had a lot of motels, and this dry weather tended to preserve things well. It would be more comfortable to spend the night in a room even if it was dusty and musty, rather than pitching tents in a lot.
That probably meant unpleasant discoveries had been made in the buildings, a sad fate for at least some of the town's residents. As for looting, it was likely the military had already claimed anything of value. Lewis had no interest at all in ignoring the lieutenant's warning and going exploring.
Gutierrez eased the truck off the bridge and through the roadblock, then into town and down the street to their designated lot. Once parked they both spent a few minutes setting up their tents and scrounging stones to make an impromptu fire pit.
Lewis considered talking to the other trucks in the lot and asking if they wanted to share wood for a single fire. Not only would that let them burn it longer but it would give them all a chance to socialize. But from the looks of things they'd all been there for days already and had used up yesterday's firewood ration, and had yet to receive today's. He figured it was something he could bring up once Faraday's people brought more supplies around.
With the tasks done he glanced at Gutierrez. “Well we're going to be here for a while, sounds like.”
His friend nodded. “I saw your ears quiver when Faraday mentioned introducing yourself to the other members of the convoy. If you want to go look into making friends and setting up trade agreements I'll stick around and watch things here.”
It was a generous offer, and seemed sincere. “Okay, I won't be gone long.”
Gutierrez had already plopped down on one of the camp chairs they'd brought, propping his feet up on the box of firewood as he cracked open a bag of jerky. “Take your time, man,” he said as he rummaged inside for a piece.