Broad America: A Post-Apocalyptic Adventure (End Days Book 3)

by E. E. Isherwood

  After it was gone, he got the sensation that something big was about to happen. It was at odds with the normalcy of local traffic or the birds chirping in the nearby bushes and trees.

  The others’ expressions showed the same worry.

  “You guys feel that?” he asked quietly.

  “Yes,” a corporal named Barry Grafton replied. “My hair is standing up straight on my arm. Look.” He held out his bare wrist to prove his point.

  Phil did everything he could to fight the unsettling feeling. It was like he was being watched by a hidden camera while also holding two live wires that must never be joined. One misstep could kill him.

  “This wasn’t in the brief,” Grafton added.

  The other two chuckled nervously.

  “We’re all on edge. Have you ever trained doing MOUT when everything was normal except a major case of the willies?” He smiled at his fellow soldiers. “We have it easy. Knight has to go into the parking lot and walk up to the front door.” He tapped his M4 to signify why they were there. “So let’s find a position we can live with, then get ready to support their arrival.”

  They’d arranged it so Phil would have three minutes to get set up. Right on cue, the Fox’s engine roared, and it bashed through the hedge about a hundred yards to the south. The driver kept the speed at about twenty miles per hour, but he drove right for the front entrance of the main building. The path took him over a pristine lawn and through a small executive parking lot.

  “Ten seconds,” Phil relayed.

  Private First Class James MacIntire set the M249 light machine gun on its bipod and aimed it at the target building. Their role wasn’t to crush the opposition, but if the Fox got into an ambush, they would be able to provide covering fire so the truck could back out of the kill zone.

  “He’s pulling up to the door,” he relayed. “We have bystanders watching.” Phil leveled his M4, although it seemed small and useless given the powerful energy he imagined was swirling around them.

  “Showtime.”

  I-80, Wyoming

  Buck popped the Peterbilt into gear when he saw daylight between most of the buffalo trotting across the highway.

  “We’re not waiting until they all cross?” Connie said with reservation.

  “No, we’re going to push into the back of the herd and lead the procession of vehicles behind us.” To that end, the Peterbilt lurched through the first few gears and stuttered forward.

  “Break 4. Follow me. Don’t fall behind.” Buck had three trucks trailing him, and he couldn’t afford for one of them to get pinched by the traffic. Most of the people were still out of their cars talking to each other, so he was confident his plan would get them ahead.

  Ten seconds later, his tail gunner checked in. “Sparky here. We’re all moving with you.”

  “Roger,” he shot back before putting the mic in the cradle.

  “Holy shit,” Connie exclaimed as they headed into where the buffalo were still clearing out. “Where is the highway?”

  Now it looked like the interstate had been draped with a rocky blanket. Millions of hooves trampled over the roadway and kicked up rocks and dirt as the animals crossed the lanes.

  The tires of his truck crunched the rocks like they were on a primitive gravel road.

  “Probably a few cow pies out here, too.” Buck laughed.

  “Yuck. Remind me never to follow a herd of buffalo,” Connie declared.

  “There’s safety in the middle, but you get rocks and dust in your face. That’s why you want to be in the lead. The frontrunners probably don’t know how good they have it.”

  “Or maybe they do,” Connie surmised.

  Mac stood on his hind legs next to Connie. He’d been disinterested in the mammoth herd of animals until there were only a few left, then he whined and panted like he wanted to go out and play with the stragglers.

  Connie settled him down. “We’ll get you a friend soon, but we can’t stop here.” She wrestled him off the sill of the window and guided him back into the space under her legs. At first, Buck imagined he was pissed at being denied a view of the buffalo, but he laid down, curled up, and sighed a few moments later.

  “Good boy, Mac,” he said aloud.

  We’re both putty in her hands.

  He laughed to himself. Being at the mercy of the redhead cowgirl was the last thing he had ever expected, and he was certain Mac hadn’t seen it coming, either.

  The heavy truck cut through most of the debris with no problem, but the deeper he got into the path of the herd, the more frequently he had to maneuver around the remaining buffalo still trying to get across. Much like driving in snow, his tires slid and shifted on the debris.

  “Whoa!” he said when the steering wheel grabbed in his hands like the tires wanted to go hard to the left.

  A baby buffalo hopped off all four feet to avoid getting branded by Buck’s bumper.

  “Sorry, lil’ dude!”

  Buck looked back and saw his friends sliding around on the rock-strewn pavement too. None of the cars had begun to move, even after they were hundreds of yards across. Some of the rocks kicked onto the roadway were almost as large as soccer balls and would be hazardous to smaller cars.

  “See?” he said while purposefully looking at his side mirror. “We’re doing them a service. We get to go first, but we have the job of smashing the rocks and clearing the way.”

  The situation improved as they neared the far side of the stragglers. There were fewer rocks in the lanes, and only a few of the slowest buffalo still plodded across the roadway, desperate not to fall too far behind their herd.

  Brown rumps shuffled to the north, destined to disrupt whatever towns and highways were in that direction. The cumulus-style dust cloud would herald their arrival.

  He scanned the horizon, suddenly aware he would see other herds if they were out there. Getting stopped multiple times by more buffalo was something he wished to avoid, so he had to stay vigilant.

  The phone rang in its cradle.

  “It’s working again!” he shouted.

  “Who is it?” Connie asked with excitement.

  “Garth!”

  CHAPTER 18

  Near Georgetown, Delaware

  “I feel like a million bucks,” Garth said as they drove through the quaint tree-lined countryside in rural Delaware. His broken window created a harsh draft inside the modified taxi, but it felt good to be alive and safe on the open road.

  “You would be John Jacob Astor if you had that much money,” Lydia replied.

  He looked at her, wondering what she was thinking. The name meant nothing to him, but it sounded like she was serious. However, before he could ask a question, he was distracted by her long blonde hair blowing in the wind.

  “You took off your bonnet,” he remarked casually.

  She smiled at him. “Yeah. When you opened my window, however you did that, I was overcome by the fresh air. I love how the wind feels. I’ve never gone this fast in a wagon!” Lydia leaned her head out the open window a lot like a dog would, and the wind made her hair flow and whip.

  Once they left Elwyn’s place, Garth had opened her window to clear out the fresh paint odor, but he hadn’t anticipated what it meant for the pioneer girl.

  He forced his eyes back on the road. There weren’t many cars on the two-lane highway, but his dad had reinforced the idea that he should always keep his eyes on the road no matter what.

  Seconds later, he pulled out his phone, held it up next to the steering wheel, and pressed the button to activate voice command, doing it all without looking down.

  “What are you doing with that?” Lydia shouted in the wind.

  “Calling my dad. He and I have been playing phone tag all day. ‘Call Dad.’”

  Lydia shifted in her seat. “I love tag! You will have to show me how to play with your telephone.”

  Garth chuckled to himself as the phone rang on his dad’s end.

  “It’s ringing!” he said excitedly.r />
  The phone rang many times, for at least a minute, and he assumed it was going to fail as it had before. However, he held on because any ring was better than none. If he was patient…

  Finally, there was a click, and a voice said, “Hello?”

  “Dad?”

  “Garth! Hell, yeah! I’m so glad to hear your voice.”

  “Me too,” he said, keeping one hand on the wheel. “Where are you?”

  “Didn’t you get my texts? I’m in Wyoming. We were stuck behind a huge herd of buffalo crossing the highway, if you can believe it. I sent you a picture of it.”

  “I think our texts aren’t going through all the time. I’d remember if you had told me about buffalo.”

  They traded stories for a few minutes. Garth told him about his idea to paint the taxi so it wasn’t a huge target. He also explained his dilemma with getting gas, and his dad seemed pleased to hear how he had figured it out.

  In return, his dad shared his stories about Utah and Wyoming.

  “So, Dad, I’ve got my gas and a like-new ride. I’m heading home this afternoon. I do have Lydia with me, but I promise she’ll sleep in a separate room.”

  Buck laughed. “I trust you to do the right thing. You are a man now.” He hesitated like he wanted to say more.

  “Dad?”

  Buck turned serious. “Son, listen. They are talking about this blue light as if it has made all of the world’s military equipment go haywire. The President came on the radio and said some nations are thinking about using nukes because they might soon be obsolete.”

  Garth held onto the wheel as if losing his grip would result in a fiery wreck. “Dad, are you serious? They would really do that?”

  “I’ll be honest with you, Garth; I don’t know. I’ve talked it over with Connie, and we both agree it is unlikely. However,” he stressed, “we’re two civvies out here in Bumpkinville, Wyoming. We have no idea what’s happening back in civilization. We can’t say it is impossible.”

  “What should we do?” Garth replied, his voice cracking on the last word.

  Lydia was now back inside the window and watching him. He figured his change in tone must have been obvious.

  Buck went on. “You are safe in Delaware?”

  “Yes. We came on the ferry to this state, and we haven’t gone far from the landing, but we aren’t exactly there right now.”

  Dad spoke in a muffled voice to someone else, presumably his friend Connie. Garth was interested to know more about the mystery woman because he’d seldom seen his father with a companion.

  Not since Mom died.

  “Hold on. Connie and I are looking at the atlas. Do you have a map with you?”

  “No. I brought the tent and sleeping bags, but I don’t have any maps.”

  “Shit,” Dad said under his breath. “I should have anticipated that in my bugout bag. A basic map of the US would have been easy to stick in there.”

  Connie said something he couldn’t pick up, but his dad seemed to repeat it.

  “Interstate 64, Garth. Go south all the way through Delaware and Maryland on… Highway 13. Can you remember that? It will take you to a long bridge over the bay, and then you’ll be in Virginia. You will literally run into Interstate 64. Take it west. That will keep you well clear of Three Mile Island and any fallout from it.”

  “South on 13. West on 64. Got it.”

  “I’ll have to get back to you on where we’re going to meet, but I want to stay away from all the major cities.” His dad paused for a full five seconds. “In case the worst happens.”

  Garth watched the road, unable to reply right away.

  “You good, son?” Buck asked, his voice thick with worry.

  His first reaction came out of nowhere: anger. He didn’t want to head west, away from home. Away from his best friend. It wasn’t only dangerous, it was a colossal disturbance in his existence. His dad had an elaborate plan to ruin Garth’s entire life. It was pure Dad being Dad.

  But he choked down that first instinct and tried to think about Dad’s position. He was doing his best to get back home.

  No, he’s doing his best to get to me.

  “Are you positive I should leave New York? I’m sure I can get this taxi back home. We can leave if it looks like any war is starting. I’ll listen to the radio religiously.”

  “I know you could make it. I have no doubt of your skills, after what it took to get out the first time. But if there is a war, even a small one, New York is going to be a target. You’ll have maybe fifteen minutes of warning, assuming the radio is working. You’d never get out of the city in time.”

  “This is crazy,” Garth reasoned. “I’ve never driven much before, much less a thousand miles.”

  Dad laughed in a sympathetic way. “Before a few days ago, you didn’t drive at all! There’s nothing to it. I could do a thousand miles in one day if I didn’t keep running into bullshit, sometimes literally with this herd. Once you are on the interstate, keep your eyes on the road, don’t interact with people if you can help it, and drive west. You’ll do fine.”

  “All right. I trust you know what’s going on. I can do this, Dad. If the cell towers are working again, I might even have the internet. I can use online maps to find my way west. That will make it easier.”

  He felt a little better knowing his dad had faith in his abilities.

  “We’re going nowhere fast out here,” Dad replied. “Keep your phone close, but if all else fails, head for the sunset, okay? Drive west. We’ll drive east. Get yourself a map next time you get gas and take bypasses around big cities, right?”

  “Got it. How do I get gas?”

  Someone spoke to Dad, and his muffled reply suggested he held a hand over the phone. When he finally came back on, he sounded excited. “We’re through the herd and back up to highway speeds, so we’re going to make up some time. I’ll be back to you in a jiffy, okay? We’ll keep in touch for where we’re going to meet up.”

  “Okay,” he said, still driving. “We’ll be fine. Talk to you soon, Dad.”

  “Love you, son. Keep the wheel-side down, okay?”

  Garth laughed. “Love you, too. Will do.”

  He hung up and thought about the grave turn the conversation had taken.

  Lydia watched him as if waiting for her orders.

  He frowned. He’d had his mind set on going home and showing Lydia all the things that were important to him. Maybe even cooking for her, but all that was gone after one short conversation. Dad was right, though. If the shit had hit the fan, staying away from city dwellers was the key to surviving. Garth turned to look at Lydia. At least he wasn’t alone. She was a survivor. “Looks like we’re heading west.”

  I-80, Wyoming

  “When it rains, it pours.” Buck almost set his phone back in the cradle after talking to Garth, but he caught sight of the text notification. “It looks like I’ve got a text message from Mr. Williams.”

  Connie didn’t miss a beat. “Who is—”

  “My boss. Well, more like my manager. He arranges the pickups and drops for the shipping company I contract with.” He handed her the phone. “Can you read what he says?”

  There were only a few cars on the highway, mostly from westbound turnarounds who had peeled off from the long line of vehicles waiting for the buffalo herd to clear out. Still, he wasn’t going to text and drive.

  “It says, ‘Buck, I’ve had ten drivers give up the ghost in the last two days. I’ll lose my shirt on the insurance payouts alone. Please tell me you are going to get our load to White Plains.’”

  He glanced at Connie. “He used my nickname. It’s literally the first time he’s ever done it. I think he’s desperate.”

  She smiled at him. “What did he call you all the other times?”

  “My real name is Blake,” he said as if she’d pulled out one of his teeth.

  “Aww. That’s a cute name.” She reached down to Mac, who remained in a ball at her feet. “You have such a cute daddy.”


  Buck clenched his jaw and pretended to be mad. In truth, there wasn’t much she could say that would make him angry at her.

  “So, anyway…” Buck drawled. “I talked to him right after the blue light hit, and I told him I would get this through for him. Do my job, basically. That’s what I’ve been telling our friends in the convoy too, but I made the statement before I saw the full effects of the blue energy wave. And before the red wave, and that was before there was a whiff of nuclear war.”

  He stopped talking and stared straight ahead.

  “Buck? You there?” She seemed to know when to pull him out of his reverie.

  After a long sigh, he chanced another look at her. “I can’t believe the world has come to this, but I’m considering not pulling this load to White Plains, especially if Garth meets us out on the road. Best case, I delay my delivery for a week or two.”

  “And worst case?” she asked.

  “Worst case is something bad happens with this nuke issue, we meet Garth, then find a comfortable patch of woods to call our own. Try to make the best of whatever resources we can find, and if the world eventually gets back to normal, we come out.”

  She sat back in her seat and crossed her arms as if getting comfortable for a long ride. “There is an upside, you know?”

  “I’d love to hear it,” he remarked without enthusiasm.

  “We’ll have all the chili we can eat.”

  That struck a gong inside his psyche.

  I’m not a thief!

  The more he thought about it, however, the more he realized she was being practical. If there was a calamity, he was sitting on a gold mine of survival rations. The metal cans would last a long time. They could get him and his people through the worst of what might be a tough slog.

  “And I’ve got a can opener,” he said, deliberately chuckling.

  The thought made him look at his trailer in the side mirror. The container practically glowed in the sunshine, but his mind was playing tricks on him again. The endless supply of chili was a fantastic resource to have, but it would also make him a mountain-sized target if people found out what was back there.