Part 6 – A Rough Road East

  The next morning, the four of them untangled themselves and piled out of camper truck and into a low mist that hung in the trees around the ravine. The air felt cool and damp, but the acrid stench of smoke was laced through the mist, a reminder of the destruction that remained unseen beyond their veil.

  Rob dropped the camp stove down and started a pot of coffee and a pot of oats while Maria chased Shadow and Ranger through the grass and Lisa checked on the animals.

  Sarah stood beside Rob at the truck, her eyes scanning the terrain around them; waist-high green grass stood still with droplets of dew and a thick stretch of oak trees to the north and the stand of ash and alder they were parked against penned in their little ravine nicely.

  She pulled a blanket around her shoulders and watched the others, then turned to Rob.

  “Who knew end-of-the-world sleep would be so good in the back of a camper truck stuffed with friends,” she smiled.

  Rob stretched his neck side to side. “Who knew,” he grinned.

  He looked at her for a moment. “Sorry about going all pessimistic on you in the hardware store yesterday.”

  She looked at him. “I’ll take pessimism over bull-shit optimism any day,” she said, taking a deep whiff of the first scent of brewing coffee.

  Lisa joined them at the truck while Maria continued to chase Shadow and Ranger. She looked at both of them and scowled. “You know what I realized this morning? Coffee beans don’t grow on oak trees. This is going to get serious,” she said, leaning in for a whiff coffee as Rob chuckled and poured four mugs of steaming black coffee.

  Maria chased the dogs into the back of the truck with a laugh, then leaned against the wheel well. “God, I’m gassed,” she wheezed.

  Rob handed out the coffee mugs and they all wrapped their fingers around the mugs and savored the bitter bite of strongly-brewed coffee.

  Lisa looked up at him. “So, what did you do before this, and where the hell did you get this behemoth EarthRoamer from,” she smiled.

  Rob took another sip and looked at the three of them. “It’s a sad story,” he said, looking at each of them.

  “It’s sad times,” said Maria, like a shadow had floated across her.

  Rob nodded. “I was a biochemistry professor at the University of Calderna – only a few years, and my wife was diagnosed with a 6-week death sentence,” he said.

  “Holy shit, Rob,” said Sarah.

  “She died just over a year ago, and after I nearly drank myself to death, I started volunteering for, you know – hotlines; veterans crisis support hotline was one of them,” he said, staring into the grass and the mist. “I met Lance through there. He and I started doing a lot of hunting, backwoods trips... just, you know, solitary wilderness stuff.” He paused for a beat.

  Sarah reached over and took his hand, squeezing gently.

  Lisa, quiet for a moment, fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “What, um... what happened to Lance?” she asked, her voice tentative.

  Rob’s eyes flicked downward, a shadow crossing his features. “He died on a motorcycle about five months ago,” he said. “His wife wanted rid of this,” he said, gesturing toward the EarthRoamer. “She gave it to me, and I made a donation to their son's college fund. Lance was an off-gridder. There are all kinds of manuals stuffed in the drawers in the back. Might come in handy.”

  Lisa reached over and took his other hand, giving it a quiet squeeze. Maria didn’t say anything –she leaned against the truck and rested her head on his shoulder.

  Sarah's grip on his hand tightened. She didn't say anything either, but her eyes were distant. Rob wondered if she was thinking about someone she'd lost, too.

  Rob looked at her, but she just shook her head.

  Lisa fiddled with the hem of her shirt. "My dad died when I was sixteen," she said quietly. "Cancer. Took him in three months." She looked up at Rob. "I get it."

  Maria leaned her head on Rob's shoulder. "My mom used to say grief is just love with nowhere to go." She paused. "I didn't understand that until she was gone."

  They stood like that for a moment – four people holding coffee mugs, leaning against a truck in a ravine, while the world burned beyond the mist. Then Sarah drained her mug and set it down. "We should get moving," she said.

  "How far,” asked Lisa, as she finished her coffee.

  "Another day. Maybe two,” Rob said, his eyes toward the east. "We’ll need to drive on some highways, too. So, it might take us longer."

  Lisa stood. "Then let's get going."

  Three hours later, the EarthRoamer crept quietly along a canyon road with mountains on either side; steep and craggy, with pine trees clinging to the sides of sheer cliffs like mountain goats. Sarah had Rob’s phone plugged into the truck and she trying to figure out where they were using off-line low-resolution maps with no GPS button to show their location.

  They had passed a couple of towns already; there had been people in those towns, but it was the most haunting experience any of them had ever had. In one town, people stood on porches and in front of burning stores and just stared, watching them pass in motionless catatonic rigidity, but their heads swiveled to mark their passage.

  The other town was off the main road a bit, and billowing black smoke poured into the sky as they passed. There was a road-block set up at the entrance to the town, but it looked like the ‘guards’ were trying to keep people in, not keep people out.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  As the canyon opened up into more wide terrain, Rob looked around and slowed. “Oh, I think we are coming up on State Route 49,” he said. “I think we are about two-hours south of Alta Sierra.”

  Lisa looked at Maria and shuddered, and then Sarah looked up from the phone. “God, could you imagine? The State capital – I bet it’s a war zone,” she said. “Please tell me we don’t have to pass through there.”

  Up ahead, SR-49 came into view, and their hearts sank as they saw the road littered with vehicles and smoke billowing from what looked like every other car.

  “Shit,” breathed Rob, looking at the women. “No, we are headed south into canyon country, then further east. But this doesn’t look good,” he said.

  Maria looked at him and then grabbed onto Sarah’s hand, and Lisa pulled the 9mm out of the glove compartment.

  “What’s that for,” squeaked Maria.

  Rob just looked at Lisa and nodded, and then the EarthRoamer slowly crept onto the SR-49 south-bound on-ramp.

  State Route 49 was a horror-show carnival of chaos. The north-bound lanes were packed with abandoned bumper-to-bumper cars, all bunched up and crammed between Jersey barriers. There were scavengers rummaging through them; men and women in balaclavas with crowbars bars and baseball bats, and other men and women scurrying into hiding places when the EarthRoamer rumbled past.

  The south-bound lanes were jammed with cars, too, but the density was significantly less and the shoulder and median still had some real estate they could navigate. There were overturned big-rigs and burned-out military vehicles; a SWAT van was pock-marked with bullets and the wheels were on the rims and there were dead everywhere.

  But as they drove further south, they realized that it wasn’t the destruction and chaos that was the most unsettling – it was the watchers—the ones standing in the fields beside the stalled cars, staring blankly at nothing. The ones gathered in camps along the median, motionless, like they were waiting for something that would never come.

  There was something wrong about these people; their stillness felt out of place in the fight-or-flight chaos unfolding around them.

  There were screams in the distance, blood-curdling shrieks of desperation, and there were distant gun shots, too.

  Maria put her hand on Rob’s knee and held Sarah’s hand tight, while Lisa kept the 9mm at the window, scanning the cars as they passed them.

  The median between the north- and south-bound lanes was about 50-yards wide, and there were small little camps set up all along the route, and almost every one of them was filled with men and women that just marked their passage with blank stares.

  A mile later, a man stepped away from a truck that had its hood up in a field off the right shoulder of the road, and he dry-washed his hands on his shirt and stepped up to the shoulder of the road as the EarthRoamer approached.

  The man was disheveled in grime-caked chinos and a blue button-up shirt that was stained and smeared, and he parted his hair with his hand and waved them to a stop.

  “Rob, no,” begged Maria. “Something’s not right.”

  Rob looked at the man and then at Lisa. “Keep your eyes on that side,” he said, then looked forward at the man. “Around this side, fella,” he called out, as he put his hand on the Glock19 in his door.

  The man walked slowly around the truck with a smile that was all tight lips. His eyes were dry and scanning the inside of the truck as he made his way around to the passenger side.

  Rob held the Glock19 at the truck window. “That’s far enough,” he said, looking at the man.

  "Hell of a world, ain't it? You folks look… prepared," said the man, with a grim and eager assessing glare.

  Maria squeezed Rob’s knee tight and she leaned across him. “We can’t stop. We are sorry,” she said with determination.

  The man spread his arms at his sides. "Whoa now, I'm not asking for a ride. Wouldn't do that. Just… my truck." He jerked a thumb. "Fuel pump, I think. Died right here. Got a siphon hose? A gallon? Just enough to get to my brother's place. He's got a farm up near the ridge north of here. Safe place,” said the man, as if safety was last word he would have chosen.

  The man’s eyes finally landed on Maria's face, but they didn’t see her; she could feel the man’s gaze, like he was evaluating a resource. Then his eyes slid past her to Sarah and Lisa. They lingered a beat too long.

  Rob kept the Glock19 in sight and looked at the man, then at the surroundings. "We don't have gas to spare. Good luck."

  The smile finally vanished. Not into anger, but into a blank, curious intensity. He cocked his head, like a bird studying a worm. "You don't? That's a mighty big truck. Sounds like a diesel." He tapped his ear.

  "I know my engines. You've got a trailer, too. Lots of… supplies." The man took a half-step closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. "You and the women… you're set up real nice. A man could do a lot with a rig like that."

  Rob pointed the Glock19 at the man’s eyes, but Sarah reached for Rob’s leg. “Rob, drive now,” she demanded.

  From behind him, behind the truck with its hood up, a woman’s desperate scream pierced their ears and reverberated through the EarthRoamer; the desperation was like a pick-axe to each of their souls. Everyone in the cab knew exactly what that scream meant.

  The man’s eyes snapped to Sarah. A new, chilling smile emerged – this one reached his eyes, but not in the warm kind of way. It was a smile of recognition, like he'd found what he was looking for.

  "She's got a strong voice. Just like the one back there." He glanced toward the field, where the screaming had stopped. "You should listen to her. She knows what's coming." He took a full step back, spread his hands again. "You go on ahead. I'll be fine right here. This is a good spot. A lot of traffic comes through… eventually."

  Rob wavered, hesitating. He could take this man down, but that wouldn’t save the woman in the field; he knew it and this man knew it. And who the hell knew how many more were out there.

  “What you gonna do, cowboy,” the man grinned.

  “Fuck, Rob! Three more coming out of a ditch on my side,” pleaded Lisa, as she had the gun out the window, waving it in men’s faces, men who had just emerged from wrecked cars.

  Rob ground his teeth and put the truck in gear and started to move.

  “You run off, Rob. We’ll come and find you and your pretty ladies,” the man grinned, wiping his hands across his chest.

  “Go, Rob,” begged, Lisa, as men were reaching for the trailer.

  Rob gunned it and the EarthRoamer lurched down the road, leaving a swathe of dust and exhaust and depravity in its wake.

  Nobody spoke for 10 miles. The highway blurred past – more cars, more bodies, more smoke. Rob's hands were white-knuckled on the wheel. Maria was crying silently, her face pressed into Sarah's shoulder. Lisa stared out the window, the 9mm still in her lap.

  They were in canyon country now, at least according to a sign, and the land seemed to be sloping downward, as if the world were slowly sliding off a sheet of glass. SR-49 southbound was still a chaotic nightmare, but they kept moving forward. To their right, off to the west, there was a deep canyon and then a plateau further on, followed by peaks that seemed to rise straight out of an angry earth.

  Ahead of them, the land dropped away and as they rounded a corner, there was a massive bridge that spanned an incredibly wide canyon. A sign on the bridge said ‘Delterra Canyon Bridge’, and the bridge itself was littered with all kinds of vehicles; civilian, military, and unmarked government trucks and vans.

  They crossed the bridge and the road emptied into a maze of shattered checkpoints and burned-out husks of cars and trucks. After they turned east on a road called the ‘Attaran River Highway’, Sarah finally broke the silence. Her voice was hoarse. "We couldn't have stopped."

  No one answered, and she looked across Maria. "Rob," Sarah said, louder. "We couldn't have stopped."

  Rob didn't look at her. "I know,” he said, but his hands were shaking.

  Ten minutes later, Maria looked up at Rob and then at Sarah. “Were those, um,” she started. “Was that man sick,” she asked.

  Lisa looked at Sarah and then at Maria and she nodded her head. “I think so. The ones that were coming from the cars on this side, they reminded me of Eastport and the, um – the stairwell,” she said.

  Rob looked up the road. There was a deep river canyon on their left, the same one they’d crossed over on the bridge, and as they approached a town in the distance ringed by billowing smoke, he veered off south again. He turned to Maria. “That guy was a predator – he was either sick or just joined the party when the madness broke out,” he said.

  Sarah looked at Rob and then stared back out the window. “He was something else. Something broken,” she said grimly. “He was enjoying it.”