“Buck, I’m sweeping leaves here in the back, but you should know some assholes are passing me with their lights off. Watch out.”
“Roger,” he replied as quietly as he could.
The fire produced enough light to see the highway without needing headlights, but he’d never turn them off while on the job. He watched his side mirror until the dark shapes came up in the lane next to him. As Monsignor warned, these jackasses had all their lights off.
“What are you guys doing?”
Six orange and white sedans rolled passed him in a tight formation, with not a single light on between them. The stenciled lettering on the sides announced they were police from Jackson, Mississippi.
They didn’t slow or stop for the people of Hays, instead keeping their speed well above the legal limit of seventy-five miles per hour, almost as if they wanted to sneak by. The town was only a few miles wide, so they didn’t have far to go.
When he drove out of the city limits and got away from the fire, he wasn’t surprised to see the police cars turn their headlights back on. They turned on the gumball machines for good measure, then put the hammer down and raced out of view.
Why are you out here in Kansas, Mississippi?
Were the Hays police and fire department off in another state, too?
He felt bad leaving all those people, but he couldn’t save a whole town on his own. There was only one thing on his mind, and it involved rescuing who he could.
He spoke softly into the CB mic. “We don’t stop until Colorado.”
Twenty-One
Limon, CO
“Are those two still sleeping?” Connie asked Buck.
“Yep. He did good getting to me, but he spent it all.”
“It’s eight in the morning?”
He tapped the digital clock on his radio. “No, it’s actually seven. We crossed back over into Mountain Time.”
“You must go crazy crossing time zones over and over.”
Buck chuckled, which was a sure sign of fatigue. He was far beyond the Federal Motor Carrier regulations for the number of consecutive hours he was allowed to drive. He had been over the limit by the time he’d made it to the truck stop in Missouri, then he’d added on another overnight shift.
It made him loopy.
“I need you to look at the atlas. Get me the shortest route to Red Mesa, Colorado.”
She pulled out the book and went to the index. While she did that, she continued to chat quietly with him. “I had the worst dreams last night, and they weren’t even about Phil. I imagined I was in a gigantic fire with no hope of ever getting cool.”
He thought of Hays, which was three hours behind them. Connie was supposed to be asleep, but he couldn’t recall if she saw any of it.
“We all have bad dreams out here,” he declared. Buck planned to prove that wrong when he finally hit the rack because he was certain he’d dream of having Garth safe with him again.
The thought of sleep made him sleepy, so he squeezed the steering wheel and really opened his eyes to let more light into his brain.
“Ah, here we go. I found it.” Connie pointed to the page and traced roads with a long fingernail.
“Where do we go?”
“There’s a turn-off up ahead. We go through the town of Kiowa, then we’ll be at Sedalia. It takes us right to Red Mesa.”
“Is it that road?”
Up ahead, an exit ramp went up to a bridge over the interstate. A lonely two-lane blacktop road went left into the grassy, rolling hills in the distance. Much like Nebraska and Wyoming, there were almost no trees from horizon to horizon.
But there were people up on the bridge.
A police car had tipped and rolled onto its roof off to the side of the exit ramp.
“Shit,” he added. “The sign says this is the way to Kiowa. Are there any alternatives?”
“Not unless you want to go up into Denver, then turn south. I bet we’d hit a lot of traffic in the city.”
He pulled out his lucky coin. “Here, flip this. Heads, we get off here. Tails, we go through Denver and avoid these folks.”
“Really?” she deadpanned. “You’re leaving this to chance?”
“Just flip it, please.”
She did as she asked, then read off the result. “Heads.”
He looked at the people, the bridge, and the highway ahead. Connie glared at him sideways like he’d lost his mind.
“We exit here,” he said with certainty.
He had never put too much stock in chance, so the coin was more for show. He did like it when he and the coin agreed, however.
Connie snatched up the CB mic. “I’ll let those guys know where we’re going.”
He debated waking up Garth and Lydia but decided to let them sleep as long as possible.
Never wake a sleeping baby.
That made him laugh way more than it should.
Stay focused!
Buck studied the people as he slowed and exited onto the ramp. The police car was from somewhere in Indiana, but he went by before he could read the town name.
A young girl in a colorful summer dress ran to the side of the street, waving at him to lower his window. He had to slow anyway to make the left turn at the bridge, but he remained wary.
“Hi!” The girl waved happily like this was a charity car wash.
“Hey,” he replied coolly. “We’re going to Denver.”
“We need a ride to Amarillo. That way.” She pointed south, which wasn’t the way anyone around there was going. I-70 went east and west, so she wasn’t going to have much luck.
“What’s in Amarillo? A boyfriend?” He hoped to keep thing civil with the girl, but some of the characters on the bridge ahead didn’t look as pleasant. He wondered how she had gotten mixed up in things.
“The police dumped us on this bridge last night. Radio says we have to go to Amarillo or Cheyenne to get safe from the Godzilla monsters. We picked Amarillo because it starts with A.”
His eyes nearly left their sockets, he was so surprised by her statement.
“First of all, Cheyenne is closer, so you should go there. Second, why did the police kick you out? And third, why are you going anywhere at all? Who told you there were, uh, Godzillas?”
“There was a crazy Japanese guy on the TV. He told everyone to go to Denver, but later he came on and said he discovered there were many places to get safe. Someone told us he looked scared and was constantly looking over his shoulder, like in those old monster movies, so I guess we just assumed. Anyway, Cheyenne and Amarillo were two of them he said had no monsters.”
“Mon— Oh, never mind. Why did the police drop you here? Did you guys tip their car over?”
“Oh, definitely not. It was, like, there when we arrived. The police were very nice, but we wanted to get out. Denver is cold, you know? We wanted to go somewhere warm.”
Buck almost ripped his face off at their stupidity, but he began to feel sorry for the girl and her friends. The twenty or thirty people on the bridge were all about her age, many dressed like they’d come from church or school. None of them had anything more substantial than a backpack, as far as he could tell.
“And all your friends got out of the police cars, too?”
“Uh huh. A nice group of state troopers picked us up on the highway and squeezed us in with other people they rescued, and then brought us out here, but we didn’t want to go on. We’re all from the University of Dayton, in Ohio. Go Flyers!”
A few girls on the bridge cheered with her.
These idiots are going to die out here.
“Hold on a second,” he said to the girl below his window.
Buck took a moment to think, then glanced at Connie. Her face was unreadable.
“What?” he asked her.
“I can tell you have a plan. Hell, you always do, but this time I can’t figure it out.”
She was right, of course.
It simply took him another minute or two until he knew exactly what i
t was.
Limon, CO
Garth sat up in bed, aware that he wasn’t moving. After being on the run for days, sitting still seemed abnormal.
“Where are we?” he asked.
The truck’s cabin was empty.
“Oh.”
It was daylight outside, and his head didn’t feel like it was being smothered by cling wrap anymore. He figured he’d gotten a little sleep.
He slid out of bed and put on his shoes. A memory of Dad pulling them off and putting him to bed last night crept out of the darkness as if it had been stored in a deep well.
“This is what a hangover must feel like,” he mumbled.
The gear from the trunk of the taxi had been piled in the rear area of the big rig’s cabin. His tent, the sleeping bags, and the bottled water were all accounted for. Even his rifle and the last gun case had been shoved in there.
“Lydia!”
He shuffled to the door and flung it open.
His dad and some other people stood near the back door of the trailer. The strangers appeared to be a little older than him, many with athletic-looking backpacks, like modern-era college students. He didn’t see a young woman dressed in an old-school floral dress with a bonnet, however.
Garth climbed out of the cab and was still watching the people when his foot slid on something wet and he fell to the pavement and landed awkwardly.
“Holy shit!” he blurted before he checked to see if anyone had seen his gaffe.
All clear.
The side of the truck was slathered with bug guts. Someone had cleared much of the step with a rag, but he had managed to hit enough slop to lose his footing.
It looked like someone had crunched up the insects into a mush, dumped them into an industrial mixing bucket, and then chucked the mess onto the front of his dad’s truck when he was doing eighty. Some of it had splashed onto the front and sides of the trailer, although it was mostly liquid, not solids.
“Geez, Dad, where have you been driving? Hell?”
He trotted down the side of the long trailer and found Lydia. She was helping people into Buck’s cargo hold. A big pile of chili cans lay next to the roadway.
“Dad, what the heck are you doing?”
Buck gave him the big smile, which was beyond rare. He vaguely recalled seeing such a grin when he had first learned to walk. He had gotten it when he’d shot his first rifle. Garth absolutely remembered the big smile when he’d brought home his first girlfriend. It was his dad’s visual confirmation that he’d done something special.
“Garth!”
Buck walked over and bear-hugged him. He didn’t even mind the smell of sweat and the old-man cologne his dad liked to wear. After what they’d both been through, no one smelled too good.
“I’m so glad you made it.” Buck put him back down so they could talk.
“I wrecked my car,” he said, disappointed.
“And you paid for it! Don’t you remember? I really did it this time. I took off my belt and gave you a good whompin’!” He faked the action of side-arming a belt at him.
Garth laughed. He’d done so many things the past few days that deserved a good belting…
“No, seriously, you’re here, and you’re alive. I don’t care if you wrecked a car doing it.”
His shoulders slumped. “I’ll pay to have it fixed,” he told his father.
Buck guffawed. “We’re way past that, son. A damaged car doesn’t even register on the shit-o-meter. We’re trying to stay alive here.” He motioned him farther around the back of the trailer to see people climbing in.
Garth kicked one of the chili cans on the ground. “You’re dropping your load?”
He and his dad snickered for a moment before Buck continued, “No, just a couple of pallets. Enough room to fit these kids. They got dumped on the side of the road and weren’t going anywhere fast. They were all with the same group and there’s no one else around, so I decided we could risk scooping them up. They don’t know it yet, but they’re going to Denver with us.”
“The cops I met said they were going to Denver!”
Buck smirked. “You told me that last night.”
“I did?” He wondered how much of the night would come back to him. About the only thing he remembered for certain was waking up in the front seat of the taxi and seeing Lydia smile at him. Buck might have been there, too.
“Yep. It confirmed where we had to go. I’ve been driving in a circle around Denver for the past two days. At first, I wanted to get away, but now it appears like it is the place to be. Something big is happening, son.”
“You listened to me?”
Buck smacked him on the back of the shoulder right when a bundle of orange fur ran by.
“And you got me a dog?”
Buck gave him a thumbs-up. “We’ve got a lot of work to do, Garth. I’m taking these Ohio kids with us. We’ve got to keep moving, though, because I’m not sure how much time we have.”
Garth swallowed hard. “What can I do to help?”
Buck almost let go of another big smile. “Your friend Lydia is assisting people into the back. I need you to make sure the front grill is clear of locust bodies. She’s been running hot the past few hours, and I think it’s for lack of airflow. Can you do that?”
He flashed a snappy salute. “Oorah, sir!”
Buck saluted back.
We’ve got this.
Twenty-Two
Search for Nuclear, Astrophysical, and Kronometric Extremes (SNAKE). Red Mesa, Colorado
After Faith spoke with Dez, she was interrupted by the security people. They insisted everyone prepare for the overnight hours. She was unable to make another call because the soldiers mingled in the aisles of the auditorium so small groups of people could use the restrooms.
She returned to the upstairs conference room where her managers were spending their confinement, but she arranged to have Missy summon her to the auditorium the next day.
Bob almost blew it for her. “What are you doing down there? Planning a coup?”
He’d said it loud enough for the others to hear, but no one laughed because he was still on everyone’s bad side. He didn’t laugh either, because his face was black and blue from the swelling in his broken nose.
“I’m taking care of my people, I’ll have you know. Missy did an excellent job of keeping things going while we’ve been up here studying the collider issues, but now that my job is essentially over, I’d like to help where I can.”
She had no intention of rolling over for Dr. Johnson and her mysterious bosses, but she wanted everyone to think that, including any asshole in the room who might decide to turn her in.
“Fine. Go.” Bob seemed hurt.
On the chaperoned walk to the auditorium, she wondered if Bob was putting on an act too, or if it was all the pain from his face.
“Hello, Benny.” She’d gone back to the same seat, intending to take the phone again.
“Hi, doctor. I’m not giving you the phone unless you let me report all this.”
She was taken aback. “You didn’t call them last night?”
He seemed sad. “No. I told you I would do this your way. I’m trying to stick to my word. But you told me you were going to make one call yesterday, and you called your sister as well. That was low, you know?”
“Don’t worry. I only need to make one call right now.” She was hoping to call CERN again, but she had to smooth things over with Benny first.
“My paper?”
She smiled. “Call ‘em.”
He dialed the number on his wife’s phone while she thought over what she was going to say. She spent all night thinking about Dr. Johnson’s description of SNAKE as a lifeboat. It was well-established in her mind that the time errors hadn’t happened inside the sixty-two-mile circle created by the supercollider, and Mr. Shinano had broadcast that to the whole world, so why weren’t people already packing in?
Why is he keeping people away from the lifeboat?
�
�Hello, this is Benny from Local News. Can you connect me to Mr. Hamm?” Benny leaned over and looked at his feet, the same as she’d done the previous evening. The din of numerous conversations kept the guards from hearing him talk.
Benny was silent for a time, then he chatted with someone who had to be his boss. After a minute of introductions and counter-questions, Benny handed the phone to her.
“This is Mr. Hamm. He’s the editor of my department. If you have anything to share, he’s your best chance.”
“Thank you, Benny.” He handed the live phone to her. “Hello? This is Doctor Faith Sinclair.”
“Hello, Doctor. Nice to meet you. Benny has given me your background and vouched for your credentials, so I’m willing to call this conversation well-sourced. Will you be willing to talk on the record about what you are doing at the SNAKE facility?”
“Yes, but you have to broadcast this right away. People are in danger if they don’t get to SNAKE as fast as possible.”
“With all due respect, we already know that.”
Faith was shocked. “Because of Mr. Shinano?” The Japanese businessman had talked about it on television, but she had assumed his efforts failed because there weren’t crowds of people at the front door.
“Certainly. Mr. Shinano started it, and FEMA and Homeland Security have picked up the slack. Yesterday, fifty cities were added to the list of safe zones. Shinano came back on the air and confirmed that each one of them will make people immune to the unpredictable effects outside.”
She still couldn’t believe it. “He went back on? I’m here at SNAKE, and I haven’t seen anyone except the military.”
“Uh-huh,” Hamm replied. “There is a giant outdoor parking and camping zone between Sedalia and the Hogback. Tens of thousands of people are there right now.”
The underground collider was mostly under the foothills near Denver, but there was a portion of the loop that extended beneath the flat grasslands on the east side of the Dakota Hogback. She had always imagined that flat area as the sliver of a crescent moon because it was only a minor part of the circle under the steep hills, but if there was one place in SNAKE suitable for parking cars and rescuing a crowd of humanity, it was there.
End Days Series Box Set [Books 1-4] Page 84