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Dark Road (Book 7): Deception

Page 3

by Miller, Bruno


  Not too long after they refueled, Bradley fell asleep, but Emma was still awake and content to stare out the window. Every once in a while, Ben would reach back and give her leg a loving squeeze, followed by the best rendition of a reassuring smile he could muster. She would smile back briefly but hadn’t spoken in a while, unless he counted fussing with Sam over sharing the seat—an argument she lost every time. She usually ended up with Sam occupying even more real estate on the small bench seat.

  He was genuinely worried about her. Bradley, too, for that matter. Maybe he was just being the overprotective father he was guilty of being from time to time. At any rate, he was doing the only thing he could for them right now, and that was putting miles behind them.

  To pass the time, he and Sandy made small talk, but there were periods of silence, and Ben felt like everyone was okay with that. He was. They weren’t seeing anything new or different than they had on the trip east, but the charred remains of houses and piles of rubble had a way of eating away at your thoughts. Ben tried to occupy his mind by planning the route home and, more immediately, deciding on their possible destination tonight. But inevitably, deeper thinking crept its way back in. The landscape was a constant reminder of what had happened and what was to come.

  Ben glanced in the rearview mirror to check on the Jeep, something he probably did way more than he needed to. Joel was holding a good distance back from the Blazer and maintained a hundred-yard gap or so. At these speeds, that would give Joel enough time to react if Ben had to hit the brakes. They were making pretty good time and were able to maintain a decent speed along most of Route 113. The four-lane road made navigating the sea of wrecks fairly simple, and although some of the weeds in the median were taller than the hood on the Blazer, the big truck pushed through without hesitation. So far, the Jeep seemed to be holding its own as well. Ben’s biggest concern was hitting something while crossing overgrown areas.

  The possibility of getting a flat from glass or random debris was very real. Those things could be avoided pretty easily on the blacktop, but every time Ben had to venture off-road, it was forefront in his mind. The Jeep had a full-sized spare to match its oversized tires, but that wasn’t the case with the Blazer. Its spare was an original, equipment-sized tire, and it was at least three sizes smaller than the aggressive off-road tires Joel had outfitted the truck with.

  Using the spare was possible, but the potential for causing even more mechanical problems would be high. With that much difference in tire size, they’d be putting a lot more pressure on the other three tires, among other things. Ben imagined it would impact the handling of the truck in a big way.

  He could already tell how differently the truck was responding to his input due to the fact that it was loaded down with gear. The extra ammunition was probably the biggest culprit for the sluggish feel. They’d picked up quite a bit at Jack’s, enough to warrant two trips with the hand truck. He was careful to pack the boxes of ammunition he wouldn’t need to quickly access along the floor or under more urgent supplies, but he could still feel the heaviness as he maneuvered around obstacles in the road.

  Ben kept his eye out for an older-model Chevy, or anything with five lugs, really, that was closer in size to the tires they were running. So far, no luck. Even if it wasn’t a perfect match, it would be better than what they had. The Jeep had a five-lug wheel, but it wasn’t a match. He had already thought about that when they were at Jack’s and measured. Even if it fit the Blazer, it wouldn’t accomplish much, other than leaving the Jeep without a spare.

  If their route home took them remotely close to Cloverdale, Ben planned on stopping to see Vince and the little outpost he and the other townspeople had created there. Vince could probably hook them up with a suitable spare or at least help them figure something out. That was, of course, if Cloverdale was still on the map. They were having a tough time with their nightly attacks from that gang. How long could they remain an oasis in the post-apocalyptic desert that most of the country had become?

  Ben harbored a small amount of guilt about leaving Vince and the town behind in their hour of need. And if it wasn’t for having to get to his kids in Maryland, he would have gladly stayed longer and helped out in any way he could. After all, if it weren’t for Cloverdale, they might not be here today.

  He felt like the town had a good chance of making it, outside of having to endure nightly attacks. Maybe that had changed for the better. He hoped so. They did seem to have a good supply of resources and for the most part appeared to work well together as a team. Ben pictured their faces as they sat around the table, having breakfast the morning they left Cloverdale. He thought about Reese, the young lady who had so kindly offered her services and was able to patch up Gunner. Then there was Mary, who gave off a welcoming, grandmotherly feel and reminded Ben of his own mother in more than a couple of ways. And last but not least, there was Cy, Vince’s son, who was maybe only a few years older than Joel and someone Ben thought Joel could relate to.

  But the real reason Ben thought of Cloverdale often was because it made him feel good inside. It gave him a reason to hope for the future, and in his opinion, it was the saving grace about the current state of humanity. It was also a good environment for the kids—all of them, but especially Joel and Allie. For them to have others close to their own age would be great. Of course, Ben was anxious to return home to Durango, but there was no guarantee as to what they would find there.

  What if his house had been vandalized or worse? In these dry conditions, an out-of-control forest fire could start easily and run through the mountains. It wouldn’t be the first time. The last big burn in the San Juan Mountains lasted weeks and consumed over fifty-seven thousand acres of forest. A small fire, historically, but that was only because firefighters intervened and were able to contain it. A fire now would burn unfettered and destroy anything in its path. Ben tried to put the thought out of his mind. Maybe it wasn’t this dry back home. But as they passed another tree that looked more dead than alive, he doubted it very much.

  Chapter Six

  It was going to be decision time soon, and Ben weighed the options in his mind. Retrace their route here and head west once they were above the Chesapeake Bay or push farther north into Pennsylvania and ultimately pick up Interstate 80? Taking I-80 would allow them to pass thirty to forty miles farther away from Pittsburgh than the I-70 route had taken them on the way here, and that was very appealing.

  Knowing what he did about the fallout near Pittsburgh, Ben was more than happy to drive an extra hour or two in order to avoid exposure a second time. Once they passed by Pittsburgh and the fallout zone, they could slowly make their way south and pick up I-70 again.

  Ben didn’t have any issues with retracing the route they had used on their way to Maryland, but he didn’t want to do it until they were about halfway through Ohio and well past Pittsburgh. He’d studied the map quite a bit at Jack’s and figured Cleveland would be a good place to start heading south again. They’d want to head south at that point anyway, in order to avoid the city. From there, they should only be a day’s drive from Cloverdale, if all went well.

  Ben couldn’t ignore the tactical advantage they would have by traveling home along the same route they had used to reach Maryland. He liked knowing what to expect and where to expect it, for the most part. That was an edge they wouldn’t have if they took the northern route around Pittsburgh; they had no way of knowing what conditions were like along the unfamiliar interstate. Ben had never traveled through that area of the country, although he imagined it would look about the same as everywhere else, and he wasn’t overly concerned with the conditions of the roadways there.

  What worried him the most was the people they might encounter. They had dealt with most of the problems they encountered during the trip east, so he didn’t expect they would have any issues when they went back through those areas. The people and situations that still posed a threat could be avoided or dealt with. Plus, there was Cloverdale, a kn
own quantity and a no-risk—or at least a low-risk—place to refuel, resupply if needed, and, most importantly, get some rest that didn’t involve setting up a tent.

  Ben wasn’t looking forward to sleeping on the ground tonight, but he thought it was a fair trade. Giving up the comfort of a mattress for a change of scenery and the satisfaction that they were heading home would be well worth the sacrifice. If they could keep up this pace, there was a good chance they could get into some decent mountains tonight. He envisioned finding a place in the woods, well off the road and close to a river or stream if possible. Someplace that hadn’t yet been ravaged by the dry conditions and baked to a dust-covered crust like everything else they had driven past so far today. Fresh-caught trout for dinner seemed like too much to hope for, but it didn’t stop him from thinking about it. He’d be happy enough to find cool, clean water that was free of any smell or peculiar taste.

  They had filled all their water tanks and bottles at Jack’s, but the water there had a funny taste to it. Even running Jack’s well water through the purifier didn’t seem to fully remove the sulfuric odor and unpleasant taste. Ben was going to see if he could talk all the kids into washing the water bottles out tonight and refilling them with fresh, filtered water, provided they could find a clean water source. It would be a fair amount of trouble and would involve a lot of pumping with the handheld filter unit, but it was well worth it, he thought.

  Ben glanced down at the fuel gauge. He’d been watching the needle slowly creep toward the quarter-tank mark for the last half-hour or so. He hated to break the rhythm they had going, but it was time to start looking for a place to gas up. He wondered how Joel was on fuel as he began to do the math in his head.

  The Jeep only had a fifteen-gallon tank, six gallons less than the Blazer, but it made up for the difference with gas mileage. It probably got around fifteen miles to the gallon or so. He’d be lucky if he was getting half that in the Blazer. If he watched the needle long enough, he swore he could actually see it creep toward the bright-orange E on the fuel gauge.

  Ben stuck his arm out the window and put his hand on the door panel but pulled it away from the metal immediately.

  “Geez, that’s hot!” Ben yelped, more surprised than hurt.

  Sandy looked at him and nodded as she used a rag to soak up the sweat around her neck. Ben was willing to bet it was close to a hundred degrees if it wasn’t there already. It reached that temperature yesterday while they were working in Jack’s outbuilding, so there was no reason to believe it wasn’t nearing those temperatures again. Even the wind that blew in the open windows felt like a blast of heat and reminded Ben of being too close to the open door on a wood-burning stove. It was hard going on all of them, but his real concern was the vehicles.

  “We need to stop soon anyway. We’re running low on gas. Maybe start looking for something with a shaded area.” Ben looked at Sandy, then back at the kids.

  “Yeah, that would be nice.” Sandy took a drink from her water bottle and struggled not to make a face as she swallowed.

  “It really is better if you make it into tea,” Ben joked. Sandy smiled and rolled her eyes as he repeated what Jack had told them all countless times.

  Ben reached his arm out the window again but only lightly tapped his hand against the searing-hot door panel, hoping Joel would see his signal soon so he could pull his arm out of the sun. Joel flashed his headlights a few seconds later, confirming that he’d seen his dad’s signal, and for the next half hour or so, they rode in almost total silence, searching for a gas station that looked suitable and somewhat secure. They passed a few places in more congested, less hospitable areas. All of them were ransacked and bordered by looted buildings—clear signs that a struggle of some sort had taken place there.

  They drove on for what seemed like forever until there was more space between each building and burnt-out pile of rubble. Eventually, they found a place that looked better than any of the other options they’d passed, or at least he was hoping it was better. After what happened at the last place they stopped, he wasn’t willing to settle until they found something he liked.

  Of course, he never would have guessed the fuel stop in Delaware would have turned out the way it did, and that place looked fine initially. The truth was that there was no way of knowing what dangers lay in wait at any of these pit stops, no matter how innocent or how isolated. Stopping in more rural areas was the best bet, but there was still no guarantee of a hassle-free stop. Ben thought about what happened to Allie at the fuel stop in eastern Colorado.

  That place looked like it was a ghost town before the EMPs did their damage, and they nearly lost Allie to a couple of kidnappers there. Ben shuddered as his mind wandered to how things could have turned out, then let off the gas and allowed the Blazer to coast toward the gas station. Joel was close behind him and continued to close the distance between the two vehicles now that they were preparing to stop. Ben could see Gunner’s silhouette through the windshield of the Jeep as he stood up on the center console, his tail swishing back and forth in anticipation of the stop.

  Ben gave his full attention to the gas station as soon as they hit the slight incline of the entrance to the parking lot. Emma did her best to hold back an overexcited Sam, who was whining at the prospect of escaping the confines of the truck for a while. Sam wasn’t the only one; Ben was looking forward to stretching his legs a little, too, now that they were here.

  Joel followed in the Jeep as Ben drove the perimeter of the property, careful not to overlook any portion of the parking lot or building as they crept by. On the second loop around the property, Ben parked under the canopy near the pumps. The tank filler caps were nearby, and he guessed they had enough hose to reach the underground tanks while pumping from the shade.

  The Jeep pulled in behind them, and Joel turned the engine off. Ben climbed out of the Blazer and stretched in an effort to alleviate the stiffness he felt building up in his back since Delaware. He was disappointed that the familiar aches and pains from driving had returned so soon. Before heading to the back of the truck to unpack the fueling equipment, he snagged his .338 Lapua and began to unzip the bag.

  “Do you think we’ll need that?” Bradley leaned forward from the back seat and pushed Sam back as she tried to squeeze out between the partially open door and the body of the truck.

  “Just a precaution. That’s all. Everything is fine. I just thought maybe we could take a few minutes here after we fuel up and eat something.” Ben hoped it was fine as he pulled the rifle from the bag and spread the fully unzipped case across the hood. He had a clear shot up and down the highway for at least a mile, except for a few hidden areas around the exits and entrances to the interstate. If anyone approached using the road, he’d spot them easily and with enough time to prepare—hopefully.

  “It’s okay to get out here, then?” Emma asked.

  “Yeah, go ahead.” Ben watched as Sam forced her way past Bradley, who had given up trying to stop the exuberant dog. Returning to his self-assigned role of lookout as everyone exited the vehicles. He was encouraged to see Joel holding the AR when he slid down from the driver’s seat in the Jeep. He hated that they had to take these precautions, but there was no choice. The sooner everyone accepted that preparing for the worst was common practice, the safer they would all be.

  Chapter Seven

  The sign in front of the gas station read Turkey Hill Mini Market. It was a decent-sized convenience store and gas station, but it was a standalone building with a large covered pump area separated from the main building by about twenty yards of parking lot. The pump area was big enough for both vehicles to easily fit underneath the shaded area, one of the few reasons it appealed to Ben from the highway. Another plus was the store’s location just off the interstate and the surrounding open fields, the original crop long since dead and withered, choked out by waist-high weeds and grass. The overgrowth was almost tall enough to prevent him from being able to clearly see in all directions. The overgro
wn vegetation would only worsen with time, but at least for now it wasn’t a problem; they could see a good distance in almost every direction. The only other thing preventing them from having a 360-degree view of the surrounding area was a Cadillac dealership across the street. For the most part, it looked untouched, unlike the broken-into and pillaged-through store behind them. Then again, why wouldn’t it be? A new Cadillac that didn’t run was pretty low on the list when it came to survival. And the dealership building would contain little, if anything, of value when it came to survival. The sun’s glare off the overpriced SUVs and cars reminded Ben of the wall around Cloverdale. That was the only real value these vehicles held now. That and maybe their batteries, as the Major had figured out.

  It was different now that he had the kids with him and he didn’t feel so pressed to make good time. There was more of a relaxed feeling to the trip, and sure, he wanted to reach Colorado as soon as they could, but it was more about being cautious this time around. There were still bad people out here, and they needed to remain vigilant at all times, but Bradley and Emma were with them now. It was more important to get home safe than it was to get there fast.

  There was also no need to push themselves or the vehicles beyond what they were capable of. The trucks needed to cool down as much as they did. The Blazer was running a little on the hot side for Ben’s liking. As he’d been watching the fuel gauge fall, the temperature gauge steadily rose. It was close to the danger level but had thankfully stopped and hovered just below the red warning zone.

  There was no need to risk mechanical problems in the name of speed; they were making good time. Already well into Pennsylvania, they were on the western side of Lancaster and probably only an hour or two from Interstate 80. If his calculations were correct, they should make it to the mountains by nightfall or sooner. Of course, that could all change, as he well knew, depending on how many more times they stopped for fuel and if the roads stayed decent.

 

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