Gary 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." Gary looked for East Avenue on the map, but couldn't find it.
"Thirty one," John said.
"Route 31? Gary 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," Gary 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," Gary said, "it'll take us north or south, and that opens a lot of ways in to the city."
"Sounds like a done deal," Frank said, as he turned on the air conditioning in the Jeep.
"Hey," Gary said, "don't you feel a little guilty driving around in a stolen Jeep with the air on?"
"Nope, If you're gonna steal something make it something nice, I always say," Frank replied, with a smug look on his face. "Besides, it's getting hotter out, isn't it?" he asked, turning the conversation back to something more serious. "I mean I'm from Washington of course, and you never know what it's going to be like there. Cold in the mornings, usually, even 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," Gary said. "It can get hot in the summers, maybe edge up to the eighties, even low nineties on very rare occasions, but not this high. I really gotta believe that there's another reason for it. Could be its heat from the missiles, depends on where they hit, but I really doubt it. Maybe Frank's right, maybe the poles have changed. Of course its 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 five, six years ago?"
"I did a short article on that," Frank said. "Moved it, right?"
"About six feet," John said, "and that was just a quake, not a nuclear blast. Who's to say what a large blast would do? Or several large blast's for that matter? I don't pretend to know."
"I don't guess we'll be finding that out right away," Annie said.
"No... More wait and see," Gary 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," Frank 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." Gary laughed as he passed Frank another beer. "Your license," he said.
"Guy's?" Annie 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."
Frank looked down at his dirty shirt; he could use some clean clothes too. He had tossed the suit coat, and the tie had gone the same way, but the white shirt he had put on three days ago was still on, and it 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're 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," Gary 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," Annie said, "there's the lake, right?"
"True enough," Gary 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 Gary's last statement.
- 2 -
Frank had been able to pick up speed once they had left Mexico. The pavement was fairly even, and after the first three or four miles they had left the vines behind completely. Still, he would go no faster than thirty miles per hour. There were several blind hills, and curves, and although there were not a lot of abandoned cars and trucks, they seemed to be in the least likely places.
The traffic, as they had rightly assumed, began to pack up just before Oswego where 104 B came back into 104. By the time they reached it they were back down to a crawl, weaving in and out of backed up traffic in both directions. The four wheel drive had come in handy, as several times they had to go over the curbing and into a field, or someone's yard to get around it. By the time they reached Oswego, they were ready to stop and rest. John pointed out a large shopping center on their left, and Frank pulled into the mostly empty parking lot and rolled up to the front doors of a large department store. "Thrifty Deal?" he asked John.
"Chain store," John replied. "You can find a little of everything."
The other two Jeeps pulled in behind them as they were getting out. Frank walked up to the front doors and tried to open them. "Locked," he said.
"That's okay," Gary smiled, reaching back into the Jeep. "I've got the key." He handed the jack handle in his hand to Frank as he walked up to the glass doors.
"Well," Frank said, "I guess here goes." He swung the jack handle at the door and the glass shattered into millions of green-tinted crystals that skittered across the pavement.
"It's my first real crime," Frank said, turning around with a large grin on his face.
Just then a loud alarm began to whoop from within the store, and a split second later an even louder alarm, mounted in a steel box above the doors, began to bray into the quiet afternoon air. Frank, along with almost everyone else, had turned and began to run back towards the Jeep when it went off. The jack handle clattered to the pavement.
"Holy shit," he sputtered.
Annie was doubled over laughing, leaning up against the Jeep for support. Frank looked at her stupidly for a few seconds and then smiled. Most of the others began to laugh as well, breaking the tension the alarm had caused.
"Y-Y-You," she tried to say, but couldn't stop laughing. "I thought you were going to have a heart attack, Frank," she said, once she had gained some control. She held her stomach and began to laugh again. Frank began to laugh himself, along with everyone else.
"Well...it scared me at first," he protested. He hadn't been the only one, he knew. Gary's eyes had looked as though they were going to pop right out of his head, he recalled. He seemed to be all right now though.
Gary walked forward and picked up the tire iron from the pavement. Standing on tip toe pried the metal box open. He hit the large siren inside with the jack handle, until it finally screeched and then quit. The other alarm inside was still going off. He disappeared into the store, and a few seconds later that one stopped too. Gary came back outside and peered sheepishly at the small crowd, most of whom had finally stopped laughing.
"If we're gonna do this on a regular basis," he said, "we better pick up some real burglar tools while we're here." Everyone laughed again. But the laughter died down quickly, and once it had they all crunched across the glass and into the store.
The power was off, it turned out. The alarm had been backed up by battery, and had apparently switched over automatically when the power went off. The mood changed once they had gotten into the store. Just the fact that no one did come when the alarm had gone off would have been enough, but the empty store had also contributed its share to their somber mood. It served as a reminder that they still had met no other people at all. They had traveled over seventy miles and seen no one, and it reinforced what had happened in all their minds. No cashiers at the empty checkouts, no police cars screaming into
the parking lot to see who was breaking in, there was nobody, anywhere, it seemed.
Although the power was off, the water was not, and they availed themselves of the employee showers after they had quickly moved through the store and picked out what they needed. They had gone together through the deserted aisles of the store, unwilling, or unable, to split up.
Frank, his hair still wet from the cold shower; dressed in a faded pair of jeans and a blue chambray work shirt, leaned up against the wall outside the rest room with the other men, and waited for the women to come back out. They talked quietly among themselves as they waited.
"You think Rochester will be the same as here?" Dave asked. He had seemed especially shaken by the alarm in the parking lot, and still seemed shook up over it.
Mike stood silently next to Gary, tapping the heel of one work boot against the cinder block wall. "It does sort of seem like everyone is gone," he said, as he stopped tapping the boot heel and straightened up.
"Could be," Gary said, solemnly. "It really could be, but I don't think so. I think there are probably people right here in Oswego. They're scared, is all. I can't say as I blame them either, they don't know any more about what's going on than we do. Even if they saw us come in, I don't think they're about to come running up to say howdy. I wouldn't," he paused, before continuing. "If I saw a bunch of people come driving in, I'd probably want to stay away. No police means there is no protection, and they don't know who we are, or even where we came from, or what we want for that matter. I think though, that there are people. Maybe it's just going to take some time before we all get back together. I just can't believe we're it, I guess."
"I have to agree with you, Gary, "John said. “If we were to stay here awhile, I would bet we would probably see someone. The curiosity would bring them out, I think."
"I agree," Frank said. "I was none too keen on approaching you guy's back in Watertown either. I thought about avoiding you, as a matter of fact, just going in the other direction."
"Glad you didn't, Frank," Gary said. The other men nodded agreement as he spoke. "I can see though where a body wouldn't want to. Especially since there was more than a few of us carrying guns, or rifles, at that point. I am glad you did though. I sure as hell wouldn't have wanted to end up with that Ron Saser trying to take charge. He was already pushing it pretty hard. Probably would of shot him myself if he had tried. Who the hell knows what a guy like him would do."
"You don't think they'll follow us do you?" Mike asked.
"No telling," Gary said, "but I wouldn't doubt it. Guy's like him are all over though, and I suppose we'll run into a few just like him eventually. Not much we can do except to be careful, I guess."
"Think we'll make Rochester today?" Dave, asked, as Gina and Connie came walking out of the rest room.
"It's not far, only about another sixty, maybe seventy miles," John answered, "but I doubt it. We will probably get there tomorrow sometime, depending on the stalled traffic of course."
"That's about what I figure," Gary chipped in, "probably late tomorrow at that."
Annie and Lisa opened the door and walked out, and the small group prepared to leave.
Everyone, at Gary's suggestion, had changed into sneakers or boots in case they ended up walking. They had taken the time to pick up extra clothes, as well as some more canned goods to replace what they had eaten, and Frank had found some Quick Cold in one of the side aisles.
Quick Cold had only become popular in the last couple of years as a retail item. Before that it had only been used by the medical profession, to transport anything that needed to stay cold, or frozen. Organs for transplant, fresh blood, and countless other things. The plastic bags contained a small stick shaped tube. Frank had filled three large coolers with soda and beer, and tossed in several of the bags after snapping the small cylinder within, to activate the chemical the bags contained. They had instantly frosted up and began to cool the warm cans.
After they had loaded the Jeeps, they had left the abandoned shopping center and began to work their way through the seemingly empty city. When they reached the first bridge they were forced to stop.
The bridge was still standing, that was not the problem. The problem was that it was packed bumper to bumper with wrecked and burned out cars and trucks. A large city bus also sat within the wreckage. Dave and Frank scrambled over the cars to see what had caused the huge accident.
At first it seemed that the wreckage went on forever. But as they neared the second bridge the problem became apparent.
The bridge, or more properly put, the twisted steel girders and huge chunks of concrete that had been the bridge, lay at the bottom of a deep gorge, partially submerged in the water. Reluctantly they scrambled back over the cars to tell the others that were waiting.
"Think we could move them?" John asked, as Frank and Dave returned. "I saw a wrecker back up the highway a bit; we could go back and get it."
"Wouldn't do any good," Frank said his voice somber. "The second bridge is nearly gone. Even if it weren't, I don't see this one standing much longer either. We took a look at the underside from the other bridge, and a couple of the pilings are cracked pretty badly. I wouldn't trust it. There is another bridge though, looks like only a couple of blocks over. It's still up, but I can't tell from here whether or not it has traffic on it, the sides are enclosed."
"Which way, Frank?" Gary asked.
"Looked like down a little ways," Frank said, pointing back the way they had come. "Take the next right, and it should be only a couple of blocks away."
"Well," Annie said, trying to sound positive, "let’s go find out."
They piled back into the Jeeps, and after some careful maneuvering, managed to turn them around and head back the way they had come. Frank made the next right and started down the street, while Gary and John, as well as Annie, watched for a bridge on the side Streets that bisected the one they were on. Frank had just slowed to cross a set of rail road tracks, when Annie suddenly yelled out.
"There!" she shouted, pointing down the tracks.
Frank looked in the direction she had pointed, which happened to be down the tracks.
"Shit, that figures," he said, "a rail road trestle".
The trestle was a newer one, and the sides were enclosed steel with concrete reinforcements. Probably why I didn't realize it was a train trestle, he thought, and then said aloud. "Well that blows that, but there ought to be other bridges. This can't be the only one."
"Actually," Gary said, from behind him, "it ain't necessarily bad news."
"What do you mean?" Frank said, staring back down the tracks at the bridge.
"Well, just what I said. It's still a bridge ain't it? It's not a rickety old wooden one either, solid steel and concrete, it'll hold us, and it does cross the river right?"
Frank looked at the bridge doubtfully. "I suppose so, but... You think we could fit across it?"
"I've seen cars and trucks both on trains," Annie exclaimed, "they would have to fit, or else how could they carry them on the trains without smashing the hell out of them?"
"Good point," Gary said, "how about you park this buggy, Frank, and we go take a look at the bridge."
The other two Jeeps parked, and all of them walked off down the tracks to look the bridge over.
The wooden ties, and the tracks that lay upon them, were well supported. Heavy steel girders ran the length of the bridge, and were supported by massive concrete pilings sunk into the river bed far below. Frank peered down through the ties at the concrete. It was cracked in a few places, but all of the pilings seemed still to be firmly anchored in the river bed. "Do you really think it would hold us?" he asked.
"If it will hold a train, Frank, it will hold us," Gary replied.
"I mean the cracks, wise ass," Frank said. "The pilings are cracked. They seem to still be solid, but... I don't know," he finished lamely.
"Tell you what. You drive one, and John and I will drive the other two. Everybody else can walk a
cross. I'll go first even. If it looks the least bit shaky we call it off, and search for something else, Okay?" Gary argued.
Frank thought for a moment before he replied. It might be a good idea after all. Where else were they likely to find a bridge that wasn't blocked off with traffic? The bridge did seem solid, and it couldn't hurt to try he supposed.
"Okay, but I'll start out. You watch, and you damn well better let me know real quick if she starts to go. I'll be pretty pissed if you dump me and my new truck in the river," Frank finished, smiling widely.
"Wouldn't think of it," Gary said, solemnly.
"See you on the other side," Annie said.
Before Frank could reply she quickly kissed him. "For luck," she said, a bit breathless. Annie turned, and along with the others started walking across the bridge.
Frank watched her go. The kiss had taken him by surprise.
"Ahh, Frank," Gary said grinning, "better close your mouth before the bugs start flying in." Frank closed his mouth with a snap, and looking a bit embarrassed, walked off towards the Jeep.
John threw Gary a wink, and they both walked out onto the bridge to wait. Frank started the Jeep, backed around, and drove slowly over the ties towards the bridge, straddling the rails as he went, and he was still thinking of the kiss as he edged slowly out onto the bridge. He looked across and saw Annie waving from the other side. He waved back and then brought his attention back to the truck.
"How's she look, Gary," he asked out the open window, as he inched cautiously out onto the trestle.
"You might scratch the paint a little, but the deck didn't budge a bit when you eased on to her," Gary replied. "I don't think they brought too many auto-carriers across this deck though, more like freight cars. You only got a couple of inches on either side."
The Nation Chronicles: Book Two (The Nation Chronicles Trilogy 2) Page 2
