Earth's Survivors Apocalypse (15 page)

Candace had also grabbed one of the warm beers and grimaced at the taste as she climbed in beside Mike, and said, “So, you going to keep this buggy? I mean this was supposed to be a short test drive, and I don't know how I'm going to explain the scratches to my boss.”

Mike reached over and picked up the factory sticker from the floor boards where he had tossed it, after tearing it off the rear window back in Watertown. They had been playing this little game most of the day. After what had happened they were all attempting to lighten one another's moods, and it seemed to be working, at least most of the time, except with Ed. Ed had simply withdrawn into himself, and no one seemed to be able to draw him out.

Mike let out a long whistle as he looked at the sticker price at the bottom. “I haven't made up my mind yet, lady, do you suppose your boss would mind if I kept it awhile longer?”

“No, I guess not,” she replied, “but you'll have to keep me along with it,” she finished, laughing.

“Oh,” Patty said from the backseat.

“Well, okay,” Mike said, playing along. “I guess that kind of makes the sticker price worth it. What did you say those payments would be?”

They joked back and forth as they drove along the road, and Bob and John joined in from the back seat. It helped to take their minds off their situation a great deal of the time, and Mike was actually growing to like Candace. After she had decked the young kid back in Watertown, he had immediately liked her. Not because she hit the kid, although the kid had deserved it, but because she seemed to have her wits together, and wasn't afraid to do whatever she had to, to protect herself and stay alive. She had seemed pretty shaken at first, and he had wondered whether she would be able to get past it and go forward. She was trying to see past it. That was all any of them could do, Mike thought, just try to get past it to whatever was in front of them.

The whole group had begun to tighten up, he realized. The others had all gravitated towards Bob, himself, John and Candace. They had discussed that. It had made Bob especially nervous. While it was true he was used to taking charge, this was not the same thing as running a business, he had pointed out, and he wasn't so sure he liked it. He accepted it though, as did the others, although it was a reluctant acceptance.

Eventually the subject turned towards the more serious topic of Rochester, and what to expect when they got there.

“I can't tell you everything about it,” John said, and then continued. “Most of what I know about it is a couple of years out of date anyway,” he said pausing.

“Well, anything you know is more than we know now. For instance, when we get there what's the best way to get into the city? Or should we stay out of it?” Candace asked.

“Well, it's a big city. I think we should go in, but I think we'll probably have to give up the Jeeps, due to traffic. The best thing to do would be to get off 104 when we get to Fairport.”

“Fairport?” Bob asked, looking at the map once more.

“It's a long way around, sort of, but I think it might be the best way in. I think we have to get down in the city, at least at first anyway, just to see what there is. Like Bob said, who knows? Could be that the police are still there, or at least someone in authority.”

“Nice pipe dream,” Bob returned.

“You're probably right,” John answered, “but I would bet that glow we could see across the lake last night was Rochester, and if it was, that means the power is at least still on. They just gave the okay last year to Rochester Gas and Electric to fire up that new nuclear plant out in Livingston County.”

“Where's that,” Mike asked.

“Well, Rochester is in Monroe county, Livingston county starts out past Henrietta, which is a small suburb of Rochester. It's maybe fifteen miles or so away from the city itself, I guess. There was a lott'a bitching when they first proposed it, but it ended up being built anyway. Anyway, I'm starting to sound like Bob now, I guess. The whole thing's computerized from top to bottom. Oh they have people working there, but they're only there in case something goes wrong, not to run the place. Even if something does go wrong, the computer shuts the whole thing down, not people. They supply electric for the entire city with it, with some to spare. All the excess power that the place produces gets sold to New York City. They built a new plant to handle it downtown, on Broad Street. It's a way from the lake, so if that was Rochester we saw last night, the plant must still be up and running. That means there may still be some sort of control there, you know, police, or something, at least other people I would guess anyway...”

”...You know, I think I am becoming a Bob clone. I guess I should get back to what I was saying before I started running at the mouth. Fairport looks like the best route in. We can get off at Webster and shoot across 250 straight into Fairport, and from there we have several routes to choose from. There are quite a few loops that surround the city, Can-of-Worms it's called. Most of the traffic would be there. They rebuilt the whole system just  a few years back so it would be easier to get around the city. Almost all the old routes in and out were pretty much secondary after that, you know, really light traffic, but all of those routes in should be pretty well open.”

Bob traced the route on the map as John spoke. “Looks good to me too,” he said. “Looks like we can get pretty much anywhere on the east side of the city from there.”

“We can,” John agreed, “but don't let that map fool you. It's not as straight forward as it appears. I think we'll head out on East Avenue from Fairport. Try that first, and see.” Bob looked for East Avenue on the map, but couldn't find it.

“Thirty-one,” John said.

“Route 31?” Bob asked.

“Yes, straight out of Fairport. It's really East Avenue still to me, but I think they list it as Route 31 on the map,” John said.

“Got it,” Bob replied.

“It doesn't go straight in anymore like the map shows,” John warned, “They changed it, but it goes far enough to hit Winton road.”

“According to the map,” Bob said, “it'll take us north or south, and that opens a lot of ways in to the city.”

“Sounds like a done deal,” Mike said, as he turned on the heater in the Jeep.

“Hey,” Bob said, “don't you feel a little guilty driving around in a stolen Jeep?”

“Nope, If you're gonna steal something make it something nice, I always say,” Mike replied, with a smug look on his face. “Besides, it's getting colder out again, isn't it?” he asked, turning the conversation back to something more serious. “I mean I'm from Watertown of course, and you never know what it's going to be like there. Cold in the mornings, usually, this time of year. Summer doesn't last for long, and I guess I expected it to stay cooler here too.”

“It does stay cooler, or at least it did,” Bob said. “It can get hot in the summers, maybe edge up to the eighties, even low nineties on very rare occasions, but not as high as it was earlier. I really gotta believe that there's another reason for it. It seems to be swinging back to cold again though. Of course it's right back to the friggin' scientists you know,” he continued, “only time will tell on that one, I guess. Remember that Japanese island that had the quake about thirty, thirty five years ago?”

Mike said. “Moved it, right?”

“About six feet,” John said, “and that was just a quake, not a meteor blast. Who's to say what a large blast like that, coupled with a super quake, or whatever it was, would have caused? Or several large quakes, volcanoes for that matter? I don't pretend to know.”

“I don't guess we'll be finding that out right away,” Candace said.

“No... More wait and see,” Bob said. “I'd sure like to get my hands on a compass though, but who knows if a compass could tell us much? Probably not anymore, I'd guess. Shit, where the hell can you find a good scientist when you need one?” Everyone laughed, breaking the tension that had been building, as it always did, when the conversation turned serious.

“Hey,” Mike said, as he thrust his open hand over the seat back, towards the rear. “You guys hogging all the beer back there? No wonder you're both starting to sound like a couple of fifth grade scientists.” Bob laughed as he passed Mike another beer. “Your license,” he said.

“Guy's?” Candace asked. She waited until they looked at her. “Well, I was wondering, if, well... When we get to Oswego, if we could stop and get some clean clothes? I've been in these for two days now, and if there's no one there, in Oswego I mean, I'd like to stop and get some clean ones.”

Mike looked down at his dirty shirt; he could use some clean clothes too. He had jumped into the same clothes he had been wearing the day before, everything started. That meant the same stuff for three days now, and he looked it. Come to think of it, he thought, we could all use some clean clothes. And a shower wouldn't be bad either. Aloud, he said, “I vote yes, does anyone know where there's a shopping center, a mall?”

“There are a couple just inside the city limits,” John said, “They should have just about anything you'd want.”

“It would probably be a good idea to stop,” Bob said. “It would give us all a chance to clean up too. Of course that's if there's running water.”

“Even if there isn't,” Candace said, “there's the lake, right?”

“True enough,” Bob replied, “but we may not be able to get close to it. I'll hope for running water myself.” A chorus of
'Me too'
greeted Bob's last statement.

Mike spread his fingers apart and looked from face to face. “Well, let's get this show on the road.”

L.A: Billy Jingo

Evening: March 9th

He came up from sleep fast, Jamie's face above him, her voice a low, panicked whisper.

“Wha...
What...
What?”

“Downstairs...
It's downstairs, people...”
she didn't finish but she didn't need to. A crash came to his ears, but he could not tell if it was from the downstairs hallway. At least he hoped it was the downstairs hallway, not the stairs outside of their apartment, or, God forbid, even closer.

He jumped from the tangle of blankets, started to pull his shoes on, and then reached for his machine pistol instead as another noise came from the hallway. This time it did sound like the downstairs hallway; the steel gate that closed off the lobby. Billy thumbed the safety off the machine pistol and ran for the apartment door.

The hallway was nearly completely black. The hallway windows let in the light from outside, but it was very little. No more streetlights, safety, just roving gangs of rapists and murderers. He slowed and felt his way to the staircase. He sensed her before his hand brushed against her.

“Don't you fuckin' shoot me, Billy Jingo.”
Beth whispered tightly. A small penlight clicked on and he could see her leaning against the wall from the upstairs apartment.

“No,” Billy said. It was stupid, but he could think of nothing else to say. “Going down,” he told her. He made the stairs and headed down toward the lobby. Behind him Beth had turned out the light, but he could feel her following behind him.

The noise became louder as they made their way downward. Billy tried to count the steps as he went. Fifteen to the landing, turn to the right, feel for the banister. Fifteen more to the bottom, but he missed the last step. He had made himself count the steps just earlier that day in case he had to navigate them in the blackness.

He nearly fell before his foot found the floor and he regained his balance. He could hear them breathing now though, smell them. Just fifteen or so feet across the lobby. He felt Beth’s hand brush against his back. A second later she pressed up against him and whispered in his ear.

“When I flick the light on them, just shoot!”

“But what if...”

“Fuck 'What if'...
Just shoot. Who do you think it would be, the fuckin' Avon lady?” Silence fell. The noise stopped. “Goddammit,” Beth muttered.

A second later the penlight came on. It was like a floodlight in the narrow hallway. The gate was broken, forced part way open at the top. Another few minutes and they would have been through. Six men and one woman were illuminated by the beam. Two turned to run, the others seemed transfixed in the beam from the penlight, then three of them suddenly went for their rifles where they had left them by the door, one simply raised his pistol and pointed it at Billy.

His rifle was in his hands, but it was like the beam had frozen him too. He did not begin to fire until after Beth's pistol began to fire. The noise was huge, everything in the closed in space. All six of the men fell, thrashing on the floor, one began yelling, but a quick burst from Billy's rifle silenced the yelling. It was over fast. So fast that Billy had not even thought to breath.

He stood frozen, looking at the dead. Two still moved. He walked forward and shot both of them in the head, one by one. The beam left them and moved to the doorway.

The aluminum door frame was buckled in the doorway. The safety glass had been smashed out and lay on the floor in one spider webbed sheet. Two heavy sledge hammers lay just outside the doorway. Another three were scattered among the dead by the steel gate.

“Son of a bitch,” Beth breathed.

“Jesus. You don't think they would've gotten in, do you?”

“Are you fuckin' kidding me?” Beth asked. She shone the light up and down the door frame. “We'll need a steel door and a welder to fix that,” She said.