Joe stepped warily into the shadowed apartment. He was surprised to see the gun in Arlene's hand, and shuddered involuntarily as an unbidden thought jumped into his head.
You're going to die again, only this time with a gun.
He paused for a second, fighting the unreasonable fear he felt. She's scared is all, he thought, she wouldn't really shoot me. Even so he was cold inside as he walked into the small apartment.
"How did you know?" Arlene asked once he was inside, and she had secured the dead bolts and chains once more.
There were three separate dead bolts on the door, Joe noticed, and two chains. Not the flimsy types that he used to install for Bud, but the heavy duty ones. She took the time to make sure they were all locked, while keeping the gun on him, before she turned completely from the door and faced him, asking the question.
"You prayed, Arlene, you asked God to send me. I..."
"...Listen, like I said, I know it sounds whacked or something, but that's how I know..." Joe stopped and looked at her, willing her to understand, despite how unlikely his story sounded, even to his own ears. She was actually very pretty, he thought, for an older woman. He had thought she would look... Well, like a prostitute. He didn't know for sure what a prostitute should look like, sort of sultry, he decided. Maybe a lot of make-up, short skirt, no bra. Every time he had seen one on TV that's how they looked anyway, and Watertown didn't have much of anything that he could compare it to. She didn't though. She actually looked... Well, normal. No make-up, or only a little, he couldn't tell, and just faded jeans and a lite cotton button-up shirt. To Joe she looked more like someone’s sister than a prostitute.
She was a little shorter than he was, and, he thought, maybe thirty or thirty five tops. She wiped at her red eyes as she stood staring at him.
"I don't believe in God," she said in a level voice.
"That's not true, Arlene," he said, and then continued to speak. "You do. You didn't think you did, and maybe you even didn't up until a couple of days ago, but you do now. You prayed and asked him to help you. I'm here. He sent me to get you and take you with me to where Frank is."
"I don't believe in God, and I don't believe you," she said. She tried to both look and sound convincing, but she didn't quite make it believable.
Joe just looked back at her.
"I believe in good and bad," she said. I believe that there is somebody, I just don't know who, I guess a God of some sort, but not like you think, not like a church type of God, do you understand?"
"I do, Arlene," Joe said. "I think it's different for everyone, you know? It's not like that for me, but it's also not like a church type of thing for me either, so I think I know what you mean. I never spent much time in church. To many hypocrites, you know? I never even studied the bible, hell, I sometimes swear, and I used to smoke weed too. Who would think that God would want anything to do with me? He did though, and I'm glad He did. It doesn't mean I'm going to start reading the Bible, or go to church every Sunday, or knock on doors... of course all of that's gone now, but if it wasn't, I don't think I could ever be that way, could you?"
"I tried," she said, paused for a second to draw in a deep breath, and then went on. "I tried. I guess I still do, but like you said, I don't think I could fit in at a church, or go around knocking on doors or anything." As she spoke she lowered the gun, and finally set it down on a small table next to her.
"I guess, crazy as the whole thing sounds, I do believe you," she decided.
Joe had released his breath when she put down the gun. He hadn't even been aware he was holding it. He walked across to an old worn couch and sat down while she settled into a tattered old chair that faced it.
"So what now?" she asked. "Where is it that you're supposed to take me?"
"East," Joe said, "we need to help Frank. He knows you, Arlene, and he'll listen to you. It would take too long to explain it all now, and truthfully I don't know all of it. But if we don't go, he may die. All of us might, I guess, and I don't want to die, Arlene. I'm not even sure what we're supposed to do, even if we get there in time. I don't know, but I'm going to go anyway and at least try. We may go for nothing, he may not need us, but I really don't know. I guess God does, but I don't." Joe became quieter as he spoke and the last was almost whispered.
"Is there anything left to the East?" she asked. "I saw missiles headed toward the East, at least I thought I did, and what's it all about? If they fired missiles at us and they hit in the east shouldn't we stay away from there? Shouldn't we just say to hell with it? What's left?" she stopped and looked at him, tears threatening once more.
"I only know there's something, Arlene. I only know I have to go..."
"...What's here, for that matter? What's to keep you here? Have you seen what the city looks like?"
Joe paused, recalling his walk into the city. Many of the buildings had toppled, and those that hadn't had at least been damaged. It had looked like a war zone. He knew that no missiles had hit the city, or even near it for that matter. But the earthquakes had taken a large toll. He had passed several buildings that had apparently caught fire, and since no one had come to put them out they had just continued burning. Some still were, and some probably would catch soon. He had smelled natural gas several times, and it had hurried him along as he didn't want to be near it if it caught. In more than one place he could hear it hissing through breaks in the pavement, and the smell had been very strong.
"It's really bad, Arlene, really bad. And it's not safe. And there will probably be a lot more aftershocks." He paused and looked into her eyes as she wrung her hands in her lap. He could tell she was near tears again.
"I'll go," she said. "I knew I couldn't stay here much longer. I was just about to go when you showed up. I'm not saying I believe everything you're saying either. I don't want to lie to you about that, or pretend."
"Fair enough," Joe said. "I'm not sure I would believe it either in your place. I've just been through a lot, I don't want to get into it, but it was enough to convince me."
"So, where? Or, how are we supposed to get there?" she asked, and then continued after a second without waiting for a response. "It's not like we can go to the airport, or rent a car, or even hitch a ride. How do we get from here to there, and where exactly is there?"
"There is New York, not the city of New York, but western New York. It's not really even New York though anymore, it's really not even the United States anymore, I guess."
"What are you talking about?" she asked.
"The world, Arlene...have you been out at all since this happened?"
She looked at him with tears in her eyes, and then replied.
"No, I was too afraid. I felt the earthquakes, I wasn't sure if it was earthquakes, or, you know, a missile, or a bomb of some kind, but I didn't go out. I just stayed here. It's been really quiet since yesterday; I haven't heard anything close by. I did hear some far off sounds, like explosion's maybe, but the phones have been out, so I couldn't even call the police, or anybody, so I just stayed in here. I would have had to go out today I guess. I ran out of food yesterday, so I guess I would have had to go out..."
"...What does it look like?"
"I understand", he said. He reached forward and put his arms around her to comfort her, and the tears she had been trying to hold back came out in a torrent. She leaned her face into his chest and let them come.
She tried to speak, but he couldn't understand her. The words wouldn't come out right so she gave into the tears and he held her, rocking back and forth gently, and let her cry. When she stopped he picked up a mostly empty box of tissues and handed it to her.
"It's pretty bad, Arlene," he said. "The city looks really bad. I don't know about all of it, the country, I mean, but I know from what He told me, God, I mean, it's pretty bad. There are still a lot of people though. Probably a lot right here in Seattle. I think most of them are just hiding, like you were... I don't know."
"I know the missiles did hit, He told me, bu
t not close to here. And for some reason they didn't completely blow up the world either. The middle of the country is pretty bad, He said, and He also said it wouldn't be easy to get to New York. He told me not to worry about radiation either... I guess that sounds really nuts, but I'm not going to. If He wanted me to take some sort of precautions, you know, gas masks or, I don't know, He would have said so. He just said not to worry about it..."
"...That's all I know, except he wants us to go help Frank. I've never even met the guy, I swear, but I know he must be there, and he must need help, or, you know, God wouldn't have asked me to go."
He still felt a little uncomfortable from holding her. He hadn't had a lot of experience with women, or with comforting anyone for that matter and he wasn't sure if it had been all right to hold her.
He supposed it had been, and it had also given him some comfort as well. He realized that he needed her to come with him. He missed people more than he ever thought he would have, and it was a good feeling to know that you could just hold someone, and be able to derive so much comfort from such a small act. It had obviously been something she had needed to do too, he thought, and so decided it had been the right thing to do.
She stood, still wiping at her eyes, and said,
"Well, if we're going, I suppose we should." Arlene looked around her at the small apartment and realized it held nothing she wanted to take with her.
"Will we need this?" she asked, picking up the gun.
"As much as I'd like to say no, I can't," Joe said. "There are probably a lot of bad people still left. I think it will do for now, but I think it would be smart to pick up a couple of rifles... just to be safe."
"I guess you're right," she agreed. "You know I never thought I'd find myself wishing for a cop," she said shaking her head. She smiled.
A small smile, Joe noticed, but a smile. Seeing her smile made him smile in return.
She really is pretty, he thought. The thought made him blush slightly, but he smiled through it.
"I know a couple of places to look," she said, "for guns, I mean, and I'm hungry too. Do you think the food is safe to eat?"
"I hope so," he said. "I've already tried some, so if it's not, I guess I'm in trouble."
Arlene looked apprehensive.
"Seriously, almost everything has preservatives in it, and as long as we're careful we should be fine," Joe said quickly once he realized he had alarmed her."
She walked out into the darkened hallway with him and then turned to lock the door, as she did she noticed that she had picked up her purse. Force of habit, she thought.
She debated for a second, and then tossed the purse back into the apartment. She walked away leaving the door open. No sense dragging the past along with me, she thought as she followed Joe down the stairs and out into the street.
Even though Joe had told her, she was still surprised when she saw how terrible the city looked. The avenue was choked with stalled cars and buses, and debris from fallen or damaged buildings lay everywhere. It was almost over-powering, and she had to fight to keep the tears from coming again.
She had stopped to look, and Joe had stopped as well.
"Okay?" he asked.
"Yes, I think so, it's just such a waste," she replied quietly.
She began to move again, staring around at the damaged buildings as they walked off down Longwood Avenue.
Good bye, she thought, as she walked the silent avenue, I don't think I'll miss you.
Frank and Jessie
On their way West
The single Jeep had become a small caravan, winding its way west, picking up others as they went. Long before they reached city of Webster the stalled traffic began to back up, and they lost a great deal of time winding their way through it, or where that was not possible, pulling into the center traffic divider to get around it.
Even the center divider, a narrow sloped grassy area double the width of the two lane highway, began to fill up with stalled vehicles, and several times they were forced to get around some other way. Fortunately the areas along the highway were crowded with small restaurants, shopping malls, and gas stations; the closer they got to Rochester, and they all had feeder roads. Roads that were mostly empty now.
The parking lots were fairly empty, and they managed to get around the stalled traffic that way.
When they reached Webster it was nearly 6:00 PM, and a light rain had begun to fall. The exit and entrance ramps were packed solid with cars, and impassable. As a consequence they were forced to drive the Jeeps down the side of the steep embankment to the road below. Some cars appeared to have either been trying to enter or exit using the wrong ramps, and the results had been catastrophic.
Most of the cars were crushed and blackened shells. A large gasoline tanker sat amid the wreckage. The tanker had apparently tried to exit the entrance ramp and had crashed and burned.
It looked as though gas, from the ruptured tanker, had spread the flames under the entire bridge, and everything had caught. Frank supposed that several of the cars gas tanks had probably exploded too, helping to fuel the inferno.
Once they had negotiated the steep and muddy embankment and driven out of Webster the stalled traffic eased up.
"Most likely everyone stuck to the main routes," John said. "I'd hate to see what the Thruway looks like though, it's probably packed tighter than a drum." The others nodded agreement.
Even though the stalled traffic had lessened, they were still forced to detour off the road several times to avoid accidents or vehicles that seemed to have been abandoned in the middle of the road. It was well after 8:00 PM when they reached the four corners in the small village of Fairport, and the sky was beginning to darken. The rain was coming down harder.
Frank angled the Jeep into a small gas station and they all ran towards the door which had been left propped open, thankful they were out of the rain.
They were no sooner inside, when the rain began to pelt the tarmac outside in great sheets. The sky darkened rapidly and a stiff wind kicked up, blowing the trash that littered the streets through the air.
Frank was staring out the wide glass window when suddenly the street lights began to glow. Within a few minutes they were all glowing brightly, illuminating the wind driven sheets of rain. Jessie walked over and flicked on a switch next to the door, and bright fluorescent lights buzzed to life overhead. She clicked on several of the other switches next to the first one, and the outside sign, along with the pump islands lit up.
"Looks like you were right, Gary," Frank said. Gary, grinning, blew lightly on his finger tips and rubbed them on his shirt. "Elementary, my dear Watson," he said, still grinning.
He was still grinning a few seconds later, when Lisa began to point out the window and screamed excitedly.
"Look!" she exclaimed, "a car, people!"
Everyone quickly crowded toward the windows to look out.
A long, gray, older Lincoln sat at the curb idling, its wipers throwing great sheets of water from the windshield. The darkened side windows gleamed, reflecting back the bright glare of the station lights. Lisa, and several of the others were waving through the glass in an attempt to get the driver's attention.
"Where did it come from?" Frank asked, puzzled.
"I don't know," she replied. "I turned around and there it was. Aren't they going to come in?"
"Maybe they're afraid," Jessie said, shrugging her shoulders. "They must see us."
Everyone stood silently for a few seconds staring out at the car. It still sat at the curb, and it appeared to Jessie that the person or people inside it were not going to come in. Just as she had the thought though, the car reversed, and began to slowly back up towards the entrance to the station.
When it reached the station entrance, it pulled slowly onto the edge of the pavement and stopped.
"What are they doing," Mike asked, sounding slightly afraid.
Everyone else turned towards Frank expecting that he might be able to answer the question.
"I don't know," Frank said. "Could be they're afraid, just like Jessie said, I guess."
"Might be better to flick off the inside lights," Gary said, in a low tone of voice. "It doesn’t look as though they intend to say hello." He peered out at the gray Lincoln.
Jessie reached over and flicked off the inside lights.
Almost immediately the Lincoln's headlights came on and it pulled ahead slightly, angling the beams into the station interior. The lights flicked up to high beams, flooding the interior in harsh bright light. Almost as soon as the lights had flicked up however, they winked out.
Tiny spots floated in front of Frank’s eyes and he quickly blinked them away. The car was backing slowly into the road, away from the station.
"What the hell is he doing?" Dave asked, looking at Gary. "What the hell was that all about?" he asked again.
"Whoever it is, they're curious, I think," Gary said.
"I didn't much like that either," Frank said as he looked over at Dave. Bob stood beside him, his eyes locked on the car.
Once the Lincoln reached the roadway it pulled slowly up to the stop sign at Route 250 and once again sat idling, its lights still off. Frank tried squinting his eyes tighter, to see into the darkened side windows, but they almost seemed pitch black, like a limousine, he thought.
"What should we do," Gina asked? Frank looked at her, and it was obvious she was frightened. In fact, he noticed, everyone, himself included, seemed frightened. Except Bob, who still seemed as he had for the last couple of days. Out to lunch, Frank thought. Mike was the only one who had brought a rifle into the station with him and Frank noticed it.
"Mike, give me that," he said motioning at the rifle.
"Be careful, Frank," Gary said, "no telling what they're up to. I don't know if it's wise to go out there."
"Don't!" Jessie said, turning to face Frank. She seemed on the verge of panic.
Earth's Survivors: box set Page 179