No Road Out (The Displaced Book 1)

by M. J. Konkel

  “A meeting? What's it about?”

  “Not sure, but I think it is just to get as many people together as they can and figure out what is going on. You should go. You have been out and around and seen as much as anyone today. And it would be good to have a cool head there, so they don't tell people to do something foolish. I don't like the idea of that foolish Span trying to pretend he is our leader in all of this.”

  “I can't. I need to be looking for Karen.”

  “Go to the meeting. That may be the fastest way to find her. Maybe there have been some fishermen that have already taken boats up that way or maybe other people have come down from there already.”

  “Mm. You're probably right. All right, I’ll go to the meeting. You'll watch Robbie and James again?” Joe took another bite.

  “Of course! That's what grandparents are for,” answered his mom.

  “How old is this chicken that I've been eating? I mean it tastes all right, but it is a rather tough and chewy.”

  “That's not chicken,” his dad replied.

  Joe stopped chewing the chunk he just stuck in his mouth. “What is it then?”

  “Like I said, Jerry Comlin stopped by. And he brought a couple of steaks cut off that dino you shot.”

  “You mean this is …?”

  “You bet! We are probably the first people ever to taste dinosaur steak.”

  Joe took another bite, chewing slower and tasting more deliberately. “What time does that meeting start?” asked Joe with a yawn.

  “Around eight. Did you sleep at all last night?”

  “Not much. I am going to take the couch now and get some shut-eye, so I am wide awake in the morning.”

  “That is a good idea. And, Joe, Karen is all right – wherever she is right now,” said his mom.

  “Yes, I know she is. I wish I knew where that is though.”

  “Good night and try to sleep. Let it be in God's hands.”

  “Thanks, Mom. I'll try. But you know I've never been very good at just leaving things up to God. Sleep well.”

  The next morning Joe got up early, and after a quick bite of a bagel with peanut butter spread on it, he walked over to the school gym, carrying his shotgun with him. He was not going to go anywhere without it anymore.

  How a day changes everything, Joe thought. Outside the gym were about a dozen teenagers brandishing their own guns. Joe knew all the kids. This was a community that spent a lot of time in the outdoors so many of the kids had already spent many hours duck hunting, rabbit or squirrel hunting and a few had even taken down deer. They knew how to use their guns and they were acting as a guard for the community. Joe saw that there was excitement in the kids as they had an important role that just might include shooting dinosaurs. What kid wouldn’t want to do that?

  Joe went inside and found a few of the other teachers and Principal Currents gathered near the entrance. He told them about Karen being missing and he told them of his adventures from the previous day, all the dinosaurs that he saw and all the dead-end roads he came across.

  Mark Span was tapping a microphone at a podium and uttering into it over and over, “testing, testing.” Mark was the city's deputy mayor, but Joe couldn't help but still think of Mark as Spanky, his childhood nickname. Spanky pleaded, “OK, please let's get this meeting started.”

  Joe saw that the wires for the amp went outside and he heard a generator running out back. He hoped that wouldn’t attract unwanted attention. People started to fill up the bleacher seats facing the speaker for the microphone. The buzz of conversation continued even as people found seats for themselves. Joe and many of the teachers stayed along the side wall just to the right of the basketball net, a spot they typically occupied when there was a school gathering. The deputy mayor asked for quiet two more times, but the hum of hundreds talking continued.

  Principal Currents stepped out away from the wall. “Quiet down, everyone!” he yelled. And when the noise level quickly softened to a hush, he added, “We need to get this meeting going, folks.” He turned to Deputy Mayor Span and said, “The floor is yours, Mr. Span.”

  “Good morning, people.” He paused, expecting everyone greet him back or, maybe, give him applause. The room was quiet, except for the generator running outside. “Okay. I think everyone already knows that since the storm that passed over us the night before last, strange things have been going on around our town. Numerous people have reported seeing dinosaurs of different types. If you haven't seen one, go out back. Our deputy sheriff has been good enough to bring one along so that everyone can see one or at least what's left of it. I was told this one was shot in the head yesterday morning by one of the teachers from this school. I am not sure why he was carrying a gun around the school, but luckily, he was. So where are all these dinosaurs coming from? Nobody here knows yet. Reports are coming in that all roads out of town just end a couple of miles out there. We have no electricity, no TV reception or radio reception either. Even dish network service is gone. No one has phone service. Well, it’s like in one of them weird science fiction shows like Lost. Only we are the ones lost.”

  “So, does anyone have a clue as to what the hell is going on?” someone from the bleachers shouted out.

  “Well, that's a good question,” Mr. Span stammered.

  “Come on! It's damn obvious what happened. The question is how it happened,” Joe shouted. “How did we get transported back in time, at least 65 million years into the past? We are not in the twenty-first century anymore.”

  “That is pure conjecture. How can you know that?” Mr. Span demanded. Joe saw that Span and probably most in the room wanted to believe that the dinosaurs just appeared in Brown's Station somehow and the marines would come storming in over the ridges any minute to save them. Most of the people in that auditorium had to know deep down though that the marines were not coming. It was obvious to Joe that they were going to have to save themselves if there was any saving to be done.

  “The dinosaurs were supposed have been wiped out 65 million years ago by an asteroid strike. We have to be at least that far back in time. The rest of the world that we know appears to have vanished. The landscape and vegetation out there are all changed too. Does anyone have a better explanation?”

  The room was buzzing again as he shifted back to the wall with the other teachers. People were agreeing with his logic, but the problem with that was they also had to accept that there was no way of going back. They were permanently stuck. And they would never again see those left behind, like Karen.

  Someone shouted, “So what are we going to do?” The crowd became silent as everyone waited to hear what Mr. Span had planned.

  Mr. Span only shrugged his shoulders.

  Someone shouted, “He doesn't know! They don't have a plan. Why are we here then?” The room broke into an uproar with everyone talking at once. Mr. Span moved away from the microphone to an area where he became engaged in animated discussions with Mary Tankyard, a banker, and Mike Elkins, a realty agent – trusted friends of his.

  Joe walked to just in front of the microphone. “Everyone, listen please. It is not fair to expect Mr. Span or city hall to tell us what to do.” The mayor and the sheriff were missing – people that would have provided leadership. It was leadership that Mr. Span had tried, but miserably failed, to provide. “We are only a day past the storm that started all this. We are all struggling to understand this. Mr. Span was right to get everybody here to discuss what has happened and what we can do.” Joe doubted that it was Span who really called for the meeting. “We will need help from everyone if we are going to get through this crisis. I think that the first thing we should do is get a better idea of what we are up against. That will mean getting out of town and seeing what is out there. I don't suppose anyone here has an airplane?”

  No one volunteered one. But someone asked, “What would we be looking for?”

  “Are we really alone or are there other scattered pockets of people out there? Did we really get transporte
d into the past or did the dinosaurs getting transported to our time and there is still some type of residual field that is preventing us from communicating to the world just beyond the woods?”

  Someone shouted, “What could do that? That is nonsense!” Joe recognized him as the man in the red SUV.

  “It probably is nonsense. But what could transport us millions of years into the past? The point is we just don't know.”

  Al Tentis, the firefighter, asked “No one seems to have an airplane. Any other suggestions?”

  “We use the river as a road and go up and down it a bit to see what is out there. Listen, folks. We are in deep trouble. I don't think that we will get through this alone. We will all have to use our brains and work together if we are going to survive. To keep this from turning into chaos, I have a suggestion. Each of you here can start talking to people around you. If your local group thinks your idea is good, come up and share it with everyone.”

  *****

  Sitting in the bleachers, Tim leaned over towards Darrel and said, “Brains! Then Lonnie will be of no use.”

  “Stupid asshole,” muttered Lonnie, sitting behind Darrel and Tim. He swatted Tim across the back of his head.

  Tim continued, “Ow! Stop that. It is probably aliens. You know, like in UFOs that did this. We should go up front and tell everyone.”

  “You're an idiot,” Lonnie replied.

  The room started to buzz with everybody talking to someone around them.

  *****

  Officer Rodgers, the state patrolman was the first to come to the microphone. “People, we should all keep safety in mind. Always travel in groups of at least three people and always have at least one gun with your group, more is better. Keep your eyes open at all times. Keep young children indoors and don't go outside of the city limits without telling others what you are planning to do.”

  Al Tentis was up next. “Does anyone have a shortwave radio?” Many had radios. Two people had shortwave radios that could also broadcast. They would search the airwaves to see if anyone was stranded somewhere and broadcasting.

  Nancy Adamsky, who had worked as a local postal carrier came up. “I think that we should conserve gas as much as possible. We should save it for the generators for now. We should walk or bike around town and only use the cars sparingly. Besides, it is good exercise.”

  Al Jackson came up next. Al use to work at the lock and dam just upriver, but recently retired. “I have a houseboat moored out by the river. A group of us could go downriver and see what is down there. I suggest that we take one of those shortwave radios with us so that we can keep in contact with everybody else back here.”

  Joe shouted out, “Upriver should be explored first. La Crosse is the closest city to us and we should start there.” Al pointed out that he would have to go through the locks up at the dam and he didn't think they would be operational, so he should go south instead. The next dam was supposed to be fifteen miles south of the town, but if everything else from their world was gone, it was probably gone too. He would leave the next morning, along with two other volunteers. A fisherman said that he would launch his boat above the dam and go upriver about twenty miles or so to see what was up that way.

  While everyone was busy tossing out more ideas and suggestions, an elderly lady came up to Joe. Joe recognized her as Joan Lynch (or was it Finch?) from church, but he did not really know her.

  “My late husband had a hot air balloon. I think that it is still in a shed out on our place. It has not been used for ages. I don't even know if it is still works. But if it does, do you think that you could use it?”

  Joe widely grinned. “Yes, thank you very much. I think it might be just what we need.” Maybe with the balloon he could find and rescue Karen. But what if she was not to be found? Still it was the best chance that he had. He had to know. He turned to a few friends around him. “Can any of you give me a hand checking out this balloon?” Several quickly volunteered.

  Chapter 10

  Karen Spechright finished her shift Thursday night at St. Andrews at the same time as Janus Paige, one of the nurses working in the emergency ward. They ran into each other walking to their cars out in the parking lot.

  “Hi, Janus. If I had known that you were on this shift too, I would have suggested that we should have car pooled.”

  “Yeah. That would have been good, but I just got the call this morning asking if I could switch to this shift. Lynn was scheduled to be on this shift, but she called in sick last night. A case of the flu from what I heard. She had a flu shot like the rest of us last fall.”

  “Well, the shots will not cover every strain of the flu.” Karen then suggested, “How about I pick you up tomorrow?”

  “I don’t work this weekend, but I'll do the driving on Monday then if I'm still on this shift. I am not sure when Lynn will be back or if they will have someone else cover for Lynn next week.”

  “That sounds good. Have a good night and drive carefully! It looks like a storm is brewing.”

  “Yeah, looks like it could be a bad one. Have a good night too. See you on Monday.”

  They both got into their cars, Janus into her large black SUV and Karen into her little green hybrid. Karen got quickly onto Highway 85, heading south towards the bridge over to Brown's Station as Janus pulled into a gas station.

  The rain had just started to come down when Karen turned on the radio, tuned to WWAZ out of La Crosse. An old tune, Riders on the Storm by the Doors, was playing. The disc jockey must have thought it appropriate for the night. As she got a few miles south, the storm quickly picked up in intensity with heavy winds coming out of the south and west violently buffeting the car, causing it to swerve left and then right on the slippery road. Karen debated with herself as she reduced her speed. Should she pull over and wait it out or should she go on? She decided to continue for a while, but at much reduced speed. No more than 20 mph. The rain was coming in a torrential downpour by the time she started steering to the right through Dead Man's Curve, a large S-shaped bend in the road that avoided a steep ridge on the left that jutted out toward the river and a swampy area on the right. It was coming down too heavy! She carefully pulled the car over onto the shoulder as the visibility had suddenly become so poor she worried she might even go off the shoulder and into the swamp – she couldn't really see where the shoulder ended. She guided her car more by feel than sight as she felt when the tires were off the pavement and onto the gravel. She could hear nothing but the heavy pounding of the rain onto the roof. She parked and patiently waited. She kept the wipers on, but the rain came down faster than the wipers could clear it away. It was late, and she wanted to be home with her kids and in bed with her husband.

  The radio hissed a lot of static along with the music. The disc jockey announced between songs, “And … was Who’ll Stop … Rain by Creedence Clear... Revival. There is light rain … in the area and everyone not … should be … to drive safely as roads may become ... Next we ... another oldie … Comes the … Again by the Eurythmics.”

  “Light rain? This is light rain?” said Karen, unconvinced.

  The rain started to perceptively lighten up, but then suddenly changed to hail the size of golf balls. Karen cursed as they bounced off her hood and roof, sounding like someone beating on a drum. She was not looking forward to calling their insurance agent in the morning and explaining the origin of all the dents.

  *****

  A short distance away out on the river the hail was coming down the size of softballs and across the river, the hail was even larger.

  *****

  The engine stalled and when she tried to restart it, the engine rolled over but would not start. A lightning flash blinded her temporarily, but she heard no thunder. Then just as her vision started to return to normal, she saw a green wall of lightning coming towards the front of her car. Or at least that was the best way she could describe it. She gasped and covered her face as it swiftly passed through her and the car. All she felt was a light tinglin
g sensation as it moved through her and a small static shock as she brushed her hair with her knuckles. Turning around, she witnessed the phenomenon fade away and she felt a small thud as if she just dropped down an inch. She wondered if one or more of her tires had suddenly popped. The radio played only static at that point.

  “What was that all about? This night is getting stranger and stranger by the minute,” she muttered. She wondered if the freaky lightning knocked out the radio or if the storm between her and La Crosse was blocking the reception. She turned it off as she couldn't stand the sound of the steady static.

  Even faster than the storm had descended, it dissipated and transformed into just a light drizzle falling from the dark night sky. Karen tried again and this time the engine started back up. She got out and circled around the car, checking to make sure the tires weren’t flat. As she got back to the driver’s side door, she was startled by the crack of a branch breaking behind her. She whipped her head around and heard the branch hitting other branches on its way to the ground. She thought the storm must have weakened it. The night was spooky and had her on edge. She got back in the car, put it into gear and slowly pulled back onto the road. Her alertness level was high. That was fortunate because as she approached the mid-point of the next curve, the road just ended. The pavement stopped and where there was a road just that afternoon, it had become a deep, dark forest. Karen's heart was pounding so hard that she would have heard it if she hadn't been so focused on the woods. She stared, dumbfounded, for a good solid minute. As she grew to accept that she was awake and not dreaming and the woods were indeed real, her brain began to function again. She started to think of what she should do.

  She fumbled in her purse for her cell phone. It displayed 'NO SIGNAL.' She turned the car around and headed back towards La Crosse while telling herself that what she saw just couldn't be real. There had to be some explanation, even if she didn't know what it was yet. Maybe the whole night was some crazy bad dream, but pinching her arm hard didn't help. Maybe, due to the storm, a whole part of the ridge just slid down onto the road? Five minutes back up the road and there too the road just ended at the edge of a stand of thick dark woods. She drove one more time to the south-bound end of the road just in case it might be suddenly different. She felt a little lightheaded and was convinced that she must be hyperventilating. She slowed her breathing and that did help after a while. She turned off the car, locked all the doors, opened her window a crack and sat still in the night. Having no idea what was going on, she was very frightened, very confused and felt very alone. She stayed in the car that night without any sleep, just listening to frightening sounds coming out of the black night and watching her cell phone, hoping that it would suddenly pick up a signal again.